Oct
05

Well, that was short lived, I guess I should have known from the start, but when you are in the middle of something, it’s hard to see the end…

As my mother loves to say ” I am never with out a man long… ”  and I  guess she is right, well, this time at least.  My divorce is getting close to it’s end, and at the conclusion of it, I will be vacating our place in the middle of nowhere…  And will be off on new adventures, this time with not only the Handful, but also the Lumberjack in tow!  So, while I will still post till the end of this great adventure of singledom (which will most likely be the rest of my life – or at least my mothers, regardless what Betty says), I fear it will be less and less frequent as I try to set up a new home, and relocate my business, while still working 3 jobs, being a parent to the handful, and melting the Lumberjack into all aspects of our daily lives…

 

If you are interested in following the new blog – about my insane attempts at house and home; DIY and cooking; and kids and work, let me know, you are more than welcome to come along for the ride…

Sep
27

Sep
27

Then

Now

 

Somethings in life make you step back and pause and think, what just happened here?   I have been having a lot of these lately, especially since the Lumberjack essentially started living with us (he still has his own place, at least till the big move coming up, it’s just that he’s just here with me and the Handful most of the time now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way!)  And, well, things are different then they were before…   When a man lived with us before – that man being the kids father…

It is a lot of little things, let me illustrate with a game of now and then…

Then (with the kids father) :I got full on pneumonia so bad I almost had to be hospitalized and he made me go out and look for cows that got out in the rain.

Now (with the Lumberjack): I barely sprained my ankle and he wouldn’t let me clean up after dinner, brought me everything I needed that night and the next morning let me sleep in for almost 4 hours while he got the kids off to school and entertained little #5.

Then: If the man didn’t like dinner it might get thrown across the table at me…  He never washed a dish or prepared any of the meals.

Now: Lumberjack does dishes every night and takes over dinner making at least once a week, and if he is home early enough from work hops in to help get dinner done.

Then: I did all the laundry and if the socks were folded wrong I had to redo them, if The man couldn’t find something or it was stained it was my fault.

Now: Lumberjack matches all the socks ( my least favorite part of laundry probably because I never managed to do it “properly” and there are just so many!  sizes color, lengths it could drive a girl mad!!!)

 

Do you see the difference?  I certainly do!  But it still amazes me anytime My Lumberjack does anything, well, nice, it’s just not something I’m used to I guess…

 

 

Sep
20

So my ex has maintained for years that he has never cheated on me.  Aannnndddd, I believed him, I mean why wouldn’t I right? ( insert eye roll).

But once I had to use his computer for work because mine was broken, and when I went to skype chat my boss for  a meeting I found a rather interesting chat left open with a local home wrecker.  Now, I don’t remember how he explained that one away, but he did and the chat disappeared.  Whatever,  then when he moved out and was spending all his time at her house, and introduced the kids while still couch surfing at his buddies, I knew the truth.  Funny thing is he still denies it to this day, even though her multitude of babies by many daddies all call him Daddy-o and they all live together like the fucking “Brady Bunch” ( well on the weekends when mine are there), hmm, well maybe more “yours, mine and ours” or “cheaper by the dozen” then Brady Bunchesque, but whatever, you get my point.

So, anyhow flash forward to yesterday when I decided to try and put things in actual boxes for the big move.  I boxed the pictures I just put on the wall a month and a half ago, I opened  up some drawers to look and see what was in them, and in among the signed football pictures and concert shirts, a random picture or to, newspaper clippings of our neighbor in the middle of the country that was arrested for having sex with her students, was an email that someone printed out in 2009.  Can you guess what it was?  Yep it was of a lady friend, actually a co-teacher from the time who was also married and had kids and she is scantily clap and naked and provocative in all her glory…   And it made me laugh.

See, back in the day I and her husband had our suspicions, I asked him not to hang with her after work he got mad, I let it go.  Her husband forbade them to see each other and she got a new job.  I believed his lies for so long, oh well, what am I going to do about it now?

I thought about calling and asking if he wanted them back, My mom said to send them to his dad, frankly I don’t want to stir up any shit, especially not something from 4 years ago, many states away, when my ex is not my problem any more.  Maybe I should send him to the man eating home wrecker he is with now so she knows the kind of man she got, but that would be doing her a favor, and I am not that kind. But I am very tempted to post them on the internet somewhere with her real name…

Sep
20

Or at least farther east then I am now by about 4 miles :).  Sometimes things in our life, aren’t really our choice, but how we react to them is.  For instance I have to move, I was given up to 90 days at the beginning of the month.  My mother feels this is unfair and absurd and is choosing to dwell on the fact that I must take the handful and he livestock and the farm and my business and move it all somewhere else and stay in the school district.  She keeps saying “what kind of Judge kicks a woman and her children out on the street?”  Well, no judge actually does that,  but if a woman doesn’t want to pay an ungodly amount of money to appease her ex husband and feels that she and the children would be better off somewhere else, then she will have to go.

Lucky for me I found somewhere to go, somewhere perfect for the handful, that will do for the livestock, where I can set up shop and keep running my business.  Actually, it will be a much better fit because I do not give 1 rats ass about hunting or fishing, I do not have any desire to sit in a freezing dripping maple hut for hours at a time all February long, I am not a logger, and don’t have 20k to dump into a house that will never be big enough for the handful.  Yes, I will miss the stars at night and that we can be as loud as we want and don’t have a neighbor in sight, but I’ll adjust I always do…

So we are moving. We are moving to a house with actual bedrooms, enough that only the very youngest will have to share, a house with heat, where we can be warm in the winter everywhere in the house, not just in the living room with in 3 ft of the fire, a barn yard that doesn’t require me to walk a 1/4 mile in 3 feet of snow to feed everyone all winter long.  A house where I can afford the payments with out killing myself every month, and a house close enough to town that I won’t spend hours in the car each day driving to and fro.

Frankly, I can’t wait, just hope we can somehow manage to move before the snow flies…

Sep
19
Sep
18

someecards.com - Mom, I love you, but I never want to be you, I would rather die first...
My mom, I love her to pieces but she really has a pessimistic, angry, jaded view on life.  She can take something that most people would see as  a positive, and quickly turn it to a negative.  She was recently visiting and I got 2 earfuls and a half on her philosophy, even though she has manged to complain since she went home that we never had a chance to talk…

But she did her usual damage while here.  This time she focused her sites on the Lumberjack (frankly I don’t think she will be happy until I am a  miserable, lonely, workaholic like she is, but that’s another story…)   He is not good enough for me –  he doesn’t make enough money (she has no idea how much he makes or doesn’t make), he only has a job (versus the almighty career that he should have), he doesn’t own his own home (what young single man with out kids, a live in girlfriend, or wife does?), he hasn’t made his wealth (apparently all of your wealthy should be earned in your 20′s or you will be in the poorhouse the rest of your life),   he’s unmotivated (no idea where this one came from since he went to work every day she was here and was on call most nights), and that he’s only interested in the package (well, some things only come in packages, but more on that in a minute…)  Then she moved on to me and why I should break up with him – that I just want sex (That is what vibrators are for, not boyfriends), that I am pussy whipped (not even possible, he has a very nice cock thank-you-very-much),  that I must be with him because he is cheaper than hiring a farm hand (umm, he doesn’t do farm work for me, and I do hire farm hands…), That I need a man with more money than me (again with the money!), That he’s cheap (we went to a party and stayed over camped in the backyard – apparently she feels he should have taken me to a hotel instead – insert eye roll – it was a party where everyone camped out, it was not a romantic hotel getaway…) and did I google him? (why yes I did, doesn’t everyone?), Did I find what she found the creep on the other side of the country that looks nothing like him, whose father has a different name and ( most importantly) isn’t him who got arrested once? (OMG! – that is just an insane reason not to date someone).  Then she started talking about the package…

Now most people when they talk about a “package deal” or say that someone has the “whole package” it’s a good thing.  You know they have everything on your list, or they come with extra bonuses.  Now I don’t know what the Lumberjack actually does see, or what he thinks he’s getting, but my mom has her theory, and it’s a doosey of a theory.  Apparently he wants me for my money ( have I ever mentioned that I am a poor farmer who happens to be a single mother of the handful?), for my families money (the only family he’s ever met is my mom and as you can tell that went swimmingly well…), for my house ( ummm? It’s  a crap hole, really trust me on this one) and for sex, that is all.  all I can say is Oh – My – God and shake my head…

What’s my real package?  I know what it is, and it’s not really that great.  It’s just me and The Handful.  We are a package, you can’t have me with out them.  Money? Assets?  Yeah, sure I have plenty if you count my beat up minivan and my 4 cows, and the wealth of holey towels and beat up blankets I pile on the all 6 beds in the winter, my families money – well the only family left is my mother and I’m sure you can guess what’s going on there (plus I’ve been written out of the will more times than I can remember so It’s really a mute point), oh yes and the house – the house which I now have 76 days or less to vacate – but more on that later.  I guess maybe he wants me for sex then ( I’m sure he could find sex that came with less extras if that’s all he wanted).

I don’t know, maybe he likes what he gets when he’s  here –  little people to play with, boys to throw the football around,  a lunch to take to work, loud and crazy dinners, cuddling on the couch watching tv, a warm bed with a nearly naked woman (I tried going to bed naked once and he asked where my clothes were – weird I know I just figure he likes unwrapping the package), and all the other little things that are just part of life…

Sep
18

Betty and I were having a conversation the other day, about how everyone was telling her she needed to hitch her wagon.  Wagons are large and heavy and hard to pull by hand with just one person, you don’t get very far, you get  increasingly tired and worn out, and there is a long road ahead of us all.   Preferably she should find  a hitch with money, a good job, and who would care for her and the wild boys, but any old hitch would b better than none.  I of course jumped right on board with this train of thought and said, yep this is what she needed, a good hitch to carry her and her wagon through life.

I didn’t even have to think about it for her – it’s what she needs, but then last night after spending the day deciding what needs to be packed for the big move coming up, and yet another oh so lovely conversation with my mom about how I need to stay away from men because they are evil and only want one thing from a woman (and with my mom we are not talking about sex, but rather money), I got to thinking what if I wasn’t a wagon, but a hitch? And is that a problem?

Now I know it probably shouldn’t make any difference in the long run, who’s the hitch and whose the wagon, but maybe it does?  The man is traditionally supposed to be the  bread winner, the head of the house hold, the final say in debates, the decision maker, and the hammer in disciplining the kids…   But…  I’ve done that ( well except for the bread winner part) and it ended horribly, and really isn’t something I want to repeat.  And the more I thought about it, I don’t envision The Handful as baggage, but rather as high spirited horses ready to run and pull and struggle forward through life.  So if I’m attached to them, then I must be the hitch, I’m the head of the household, the hammer, the final say, and the decision maker along with being the bread maker and baker!  And if I’m the hitch, then don’t I get more say in what my wagon contains?  I mean their are plenty of wagons in life waiting for a ride, but only so many hitches, and only the lucky ones wagons get towed along, so maybe it’ not such a bad thing to be the hitch…  But, oh boy!  I hope their wagon is tough, because we are going for a wild and crazy high speed ride with those spirited horses of mine!!!

Sep
09
Sep
09
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