Recalled To Life

Cue the world's smallest violins . . .

2010-05-31T09:35:00.006-05:00

Look up the phrase "fair weather friend" in the dictionary and you will probably see a picture of me.

Gah!

I'm the worst!

Never in my wildest dreams, did I think there would be a day (or the last two months) where I was unable to find time for blogging or reading all your blogs.

But I think of you all often and throughout the day of my ho-hum yet dangerous job. Seriously, I had a punk pull out a switchblade and start cleaning his nails in an attempt to intimidate me because he and his pregnant, non US citizen girlfriend were ineligible for food st*mps due to his full-time college student status . . . I ignored the knife and he eventually put it away but I was reprimanded by my supervisor for not leaving my office or calling for help (I did attempt to call my supervisor twice, but she never answered her phone)!

Oh the job.

My first appointment of the day are expedites, usually men who just got out of the big-house and are currently homeless . . . which then, makes me think about the vileman and what he will do when he gets out.

Not that you all remind me of educated punks and ex-felons.

No, no, no!

Every morning I put on a silver bracelet along with my "GRRR" bracelet (it's black and matches everything and they look really nice together, and many people have commented on them and so, I always think of Debbi every morning.

My friends from the Frances Kuffle Amazon blog and the AFG blog . . . Vickie, Lori, Anne, Jen, Cindy, Laura N. and Helen.

Friends I met blogging as the Gr*mpy Ch*ir D*eter . . . Sharla (happy anniversary), Jill, Cammy, Michelle, Patience, Eva and Wendy.

You all have been such a great support system to me and I shall be a better blogger buddy soon!
***
The kids are very active in baseball and t-ball. Everyday either a practice or game.

I get home from work, grab waters and kids and head to the baseball field. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Sometime, we don't get home until 11:00 pm.

This has been going on since April. The t-ball schedule ends on Tuesday bringing about two to three days of relief.

Baseball ends sometime next month.

And with that said, I shall write again sometime in June!

Working for a living

2010-04-06T20:50:00.003-05:00

So, as some of you may know, I started a job on Feb. 8th.

I'm sooooooo tired.

And this job thingy, is seriously invading my internet time!

I work for the great state, in the public assistance department, where I interview clients and determine their eligibility for benefits.

I spent the first three weeks on the job reading policy and procedure and filing.

Then four weeks in training classes . . . on policy and procedure.

One week back in the office . . . where I realized "real life" cases don't equal "classroom 'perfect world' scenarios".

For the next two weeks, I'm in the "real world" training class, working cases but with supervision.

It's a tough, tough job.

And the pay sucks.

I really want to like this job.

Anyway, the kids are in their busy season - baseball, t-ball, dance competitions, band competitions/concerts, school programs . . . just eating into my "me" time where I would read blogs and post on occasion.

Maybe this weekend I'll get a little caught up.

So, you ask for "the details" . . .

2010-03-18T22:26:00.003-05:00

"Take one slimy, greasy, slick criminal defense lawyer and one sociopathic ped-o-vile . . . between the two of them, there probably isn't much of a heart, maybe only a little bit of aorta." - Doc Manette

Anyway, the DA called me the week before vileman's trial to inform me that vileman was going to plead guilty in exchange for three years and I wouldn't have to testify.

A few days before his plea jail time hearing, I heard from the lovely lady (the lady who showed up with vileman's records at my temporary order hearing and the divorce hearing) letting me know that the nice man (the detective) wanted to talk to me.

I had a nice conversation with the detective. He said vileman's lawyer had a "heart to heart" talk (See first paragraph of this post) with the vileman about plea bargaining instead of going to trial, because the case was "airtight" and if he went to trial, he would probably end up doing the maximum of 10 years. (Sorry, very, very long sentence.) The detective seemed very pleased that vileman was going away for awhile.

Vileman must have had second thoughts about going to jail, because he showed up almost two hours late for his hearing.

***

With vileman out of the way, I was able to join facebook as . . . me!

One Man's Pain is another WOman's Glee

2010-03-10T19:30:00.003-06:00

$11,888.00 paid to a divorce lawyer
$4,140.00 paid to counselors
$601.00 out-of-pocket expenses for divorce (travel, lodging, copies, postage)
$1,485.00 in moving and storage fees

Cost to see the vileman's mug shot Tuesday night, on the website where he was booked on March 8th to begin serving his 3 year sentence . . .

Priceless.

Sand Through the Hourglass . . .

2010-02-21T18:10:00.003-06:00

Time is running out for the vile one.

Soon, I shall close the last chapter of this horror book.

I'll keep you posted as it might still be delayed by a few weeks.

Snow!

2010-02-11T22:57:00.003-06:00

It's been a long time (approximately 5 years) since I have seen snow and yippie! we got it today!

Sorry all you blizzard victims but I'm like an 8 year old when it comes to snow.

****

On February 1st, (weigh-in day), I was happy to see that I had maintained my weight loss from December. I weighed exactly the same as I did on January 1st. Though I didn't lose, I didn't gain either. Not even an ounce. And that makes me happy!

I Am My Own Worst Enemy

2010-01-28T13:34:00.002-06:00

First, let me say a big old thanks to Cammy, Jill and Cindy for their great suggestions and help with my resume. I used every single suggestion and have started to get a few nibbles from the new and improved resume and kick but(t) cover letters.

Now, if only someone other than me did the interview!

I am no longer articulate! (My gray matter is as smooth as glass.)

And apparently, I have the skills of a good politician . . . as in not answering the question asked and instead talking about something different and nodding my head in agreement . . . at the same time.

My favorite thing is to call the company I'm interviewing at by the wrong name!

Man, you should see the look on the interviewer's face when that happens!

If anything, I might have a career in writing a book on "NOT what to say or do during job interviews for dummies".

****

I have had a sinus/cold thing going on for the last 6 weeks.

Now if I were auditioning for a role as Rudolph, there wouldn't be a problem but going to a job interview with a shinny red nose (because it is so chapped that I have had to resort to rubbing Aquaphor around the nostrils) is very unattractive.

"No, I rarely call in sick . . .cough, cough."

****

I'm worried most about (should a job offer be offered my way) asking off for vile's trial. I guess I will cross that bridge when I'm lucky enough to have a job.

Bruised Butt . . . Not Battered

2010-01-12T09:47:00.007-06:00

After I posted yesterday and sent off an email, I ventured down the stairs to warm up my coffee and on the fifth step from the bottom . . . I fell down the stairs. It wasn't a movie prat fall but(t) a fall landing on my butt, legs stretched out, as if I was riding a snow saucer down a hill . . . thump, thump, thump, thump . . . thump.

It was a 4.8 on the Richter scale.

As I sat on the floor, stunned, I immediately thought "please God, don't let my butt be broken".

I got on my hands and knees and pushed myself up, though my bottom was feeling some pain, I'm pretty sure the extra padding kept the tail bone from breaking.

But(t) it still hurt.

Walking it off by pacing around the foyer, I was overcome with relief that nothing was broken and begin to laugh hysterically. The thought of going to the hospital with a broken butt would have been too embarrassing. Of course, had this been Reuben's time, I would have been a celebrity going into the hospital with a Reuben-isque broken bum. Back then, the doctors would call in nurses, interns and orderlies to admire my awesomeness of dimples, lumps and bumps . . . but(t) the reality is, I'm living in the 21st century.

The grouchy nurse, angry that a size 14/16 was staring her/him in the face, would yell down the hall for all to hear . . . "were gonna need bigger gauze!"

Also, I was relieved I wouldn't have to explain the cough syrup on my breath, as I had just had a hefty sip of Delysm 12 hour cough syrup* for a nagging cough I have had since mid December. (*I'm pretty sure Delysm doesn't make one groggy nor does it have a warning that one should not operate heavy machinery or walk down wood stairs with socks on.) Phew, no rumors of me being "under the influence" to deal with.

But(t) the moral of this story for me is this: something (the straw) did happen and it didn't break my back or butt. I survived and giggled out loud at my misstep. And once the coffee mess was cleaned up, I realized I didn't implode! I chose to carve out some relaxation time for myself.

So I made a cup of herbal tea and took the other stairs with carpet (to soften any falls).

P.S. - Very brusied but(t) not broken!

That Girl

2010-01-11T10:23:00.004-06:00

Lately, I have felt that if any more straw is thrown on this old camel's back . . . implosion might occur. Then, I spoke with my big sis yesterday morning and she told me to start telling myself or chanting "this is only temporary, this is only temporary".

She also reminded me of a conversation that I had on June 25th when I asked my then husband "Is this the only phone call you can make?"

Jailed vile husband: "Yes!"

Me: "Then you made the wrong phone call." Click.

I need to channel that girl who was so strong and smart that horrific day.

Off to go chant . . .

Those Sneaky Pounds and other things:

2010-01-05T11:21:00.005-06:00

The morning of January 1st, I got out of bed, groaned and pulled out the Tanita hidden under the bed.

Might as well see the damage.

I had to get on and off that scale five times before I accepted the number on the read out dial . . . 167.4 pounds!

Yee Haw!!!!

Not only do those pounds sneak up on you, apparently they can sneak off too!

Haven't weighed 167 in over 6 years (which didn't last long) though, I did see a blip of 167 in November of 2007, it was only for a few hours . . .

Since losing on the Crack the Fat diet, I was maintaining around 173/174.

****

I'm going to be emailing some of you with an attachment of my resume as a rich text file. I do not have Microsoft Works (only Tasks) and cannot send a doc file. Anyway, I would love, love, love any advice you might have (I promise I can handle constructive criticism) on improving my chances for getting an interview!

I have applied for many administrative assistant positions because that is where my strongest skills are but have not been able to secure interviews and I would love, love, love any feedback you might have.

Every rejection email/letter that I get has me wondering . . . why? My former supervisors have all given me great references (for the one interview I scored for a foodstamps clerk), my criminal background is clean, etc.

Any advice would be appreciated.

****
Vickie wanted to know if I cut my hair myself in the bathroom (I thought that was so funny and it gave me a much needed laugh . . . I was kind of dramatic about it!)

The girl who has cut my hair for the last year . . . had a bad day. I asked to go shorter and it looked like some weird version of the Kate (of Jon and Kate) thing . . . only ugly. So I waited three days and went to another hairdresser and asked her to just give me a pixie. Currently, my hair is as short as Jamie Lee Curtis' on those laxative yogurt commercials.

Short.

****

2009 Had Such High Hopes . . .

2009-12-29T11:06:00.007-06:00

Have you ever had trouble reading the last few chapters of a book because lack of time or exhaustion preventing you from finishing it?.

I sooooo wanted to close the book on vileman by the end of 2009.

Not going to happen.

Now his trial is set for late February 2010.

I wonder how many more victims he violated from the time he got out of jail in July 2008 to present time?

I had such high hopes for 2009 - a divorce the first week of the new year and the house sold in first month of the second quarter. . .

But it seems to be ending with a fizzle . . .

Still no job - I feel so unworthy.

I cut all my hair off - I feel so ugly.

Screeeeeeeech . . .

Best to put on the brakes and not think about things that make me feel like dog doo.

I will find a job in 2010.

My hair will grow out.

Time to Soar

2009-11-30T11:22:00.006-06:00

Seeing how we are now in the good tidings and merry season, I shall not try to grumble and moan too loudly about everything that has gone so wrong the past three weeks. I need to keep on keeping on but I have to wonder what the tipping point is?

Is there a DNA component that has a person hitting bottom and rising out of the ashes like the phoenix? Or is there a component that makes a person throw up their hands and look up at the sky declaring defeat?

I hope, hope, hope, I have the phoenix DNA.

At my last job, over 6 1/2 years ago, I worked with a woman who had a black doom cloud hanging over her head. Trouble just seemed to follow her. I have been thinking about her a lot lately, wondering if she ever had any potential and just gave up on striving for things she wanted to achieve by giving in to the ultimate sin of "settling".

Was she once a vibrant, thin, good natured woman? Did life beat her down so much that she put on 60 pounds, took up smoking, settled for a low-wage job where she wore the same stinky sweater with pockets (to hold the cigarettes) everyday? Did she give up on her children and fail to help progress them along? What happened to her?

I hope, hope, hope, I don't become just like her.

***

Think of all my blessings . . .

13 and 6 mean everything to me. Everything I have done has been in the best interest of them. That includes not going back to work right away (this is a very sore subject with a male figure in my family.) As Vickie likes to say "should of, could of, would of". I don't want to regret being home for them during a very difficult time in their life.

I had a flat tire three weeks ago. I was at the country town library where the out of school suspension kids flock to after their class is over (ironic, I know.) As I walked to my car, a young delinquent pointed out that I had a flat. He offered to fix it . . . . for money. I told him thank you and that I had no money on me so I would fix it myself.

One of the other gang members shook his head and told me he would fix it for me, because he said "my mom could be in the same predicament as you and I hope someone helps her." It took the gang one hour to break my jack and change the tire. But I was happy they helped me and offered to write their probation officers and a judge a nice letter.

The 13 year old and I are going to practice changing the tire so that he and I both can learn. But first, I'm going to buy a better jack.

***

Last month the healer sent a huge package to the ADA's office. It included all correspondence from vileman that he has written to me and the kids plus all emails he sends (his bond restrictions are supposed to keep him off the Internet except for job hunting purposes.) After the ADA received the package, she called the healer to report that "if it were true, (duh!?! they had all the evidence) then he was in violation of his bond restrictions".

Nothing ever came of it. Which leaves me to believe that (1) they think it is domestic or (2) they are going to present it during his trial and probably subpoena me to testify. Grrr. Or (3) they know his trial is coming up at the end of December and maybe the info they have will keep him from getting another continuance.

I'm losing my faith in the judicial system.

***

I haven't been able to comment or post because (very embarrassing) I could not remember my password to this account. Ahem. And like the smart cookie that I am, the email address where they send the password info should you forget, required that password that I couldn't remember.

It finally came to me after days and days of trying . . . and I now feel quite merry.

The Sponge Cannot Absorb Anything Else

2009-11-10T11:22:00.005-06:00

I am saturated.

And ready to implode!

Time for relaxation techniques to kick in . . . and implemented immediately.

I haven't heard any feedback regarding vileman's liberal use of the internet and other no no's.

***

Must. Think. Of. Something. Positive.

****

I have maintained an 11 pound weight loss for the last few weeks, though I haven't been cracking the whip.

*****

Vileman's trial has been reset to the week after Christmas. He is at the very top of the list and I know that the prosecutor assigned (he has bounced all over the ADA staff) just wrapped up a very high profile murder case.

I might be writing a very long letter to Santa Claus regarding adding someone to his naughty list.

No News . . . Yet (tick tick tick . . .)

2009-11-05T11:08:00.008-06:00

Still waiting to hear something about anything!

In the meantime, I'm hunkered down trying to secure some temporary seasonal retail employment while still doing the full-time job hunt.

I so wish I had something of the good news variety to let you know about.

But I got nothing.

I have been staying away from sweets (there's a bit of good news!) and sticking with the fat cracking diet. The few slacks that I bought last fall when I thought I was going to be looking for a job, are about to be too big - (some more good news!)

Switching gears, last week Abbey from TBL was on the radio and mentioned there was a romance going on behind the scenes . . . after watching Tuesday's episode, I think I might have figured out the duo . . . (Trainer and young pretty trainee . . . )

I'm off to read Jen's review of this weeks TBL episode . . . maybe she mentions something about it.

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick . . . . . .

2009-10-31T11:38:00.005-05:00

The waiting is the hardest part.

Thursday and Friday, were horrible eating days. The worst of the year and possibly the last few years.

I was running around gathering information and making copies and the stress of it all (plus the dreaded first day of lady cycle) had me incorporating an old habit . . .something I haven't done in several years . . .

I invited an old companion to accompany me. Her name is "Little Debbie" and she supplied the zebra cakes.

After I inhaled the package of two small nonfood items, I realized I hadn't even tasted them. So I pulled out a second package of two and ate them slower. (Bringing my calorie content to around 900 for four individual zebra cakes.

By the way, they were not tasty.

When I got to my destination, I threw the box away for fear I would consume the entire contents, trying desparately to remember why they (the cakes) brought me comfort a few years ago.

The magic wasn't rekindled.

Friday, I failed to eat breakfast and realized it was already time to pick up the kids from school and I hadn't eaten anything all day. I was wired from too much coffee.

Thank goodness I have the snack bag in the car for the kids (which has never bothered me or triggered any binges).

Two individual bags of goldfish crackers later, I was now craving carbs.

Made the kids witches broomstick breadsticks (from pizza dough) when we got home. I ate mine with butter.

***

I know it might not sound so bad or be considered a binge in some peoples' book but it isn't really about the food. It's how I handled the stress. It was handled destructively. And not just one off day but two. And we all know that if it isn't nipped in the bud, two bad days can equal a week and so on . . . until you weigh more than you have ever weighed.

This morning I had a boiled egg and a sliced apple first thing.

My face and fingers feel and look puffy.

I think my best course of dealing with the upcoming issue is to eat healthy, get plenty of water, exercise and wait it out like a human. Not a zombie feasting on anything that moves past me.

Problem Will Be Solved (Keeps fingers crossed . . .)

2009-10-28T19:11:00.002-05:00

Thank you all so much for your support and comments regarding you know what.

I believe the problem will be handled by the end of the week and I will keep you informed . . .

until then, I edited my last post, so as not to tip someone off should someone happen to find this blog. I hid the comments for the time being also.

I will write more once I know more.

Thanks again for all your support! I so, so, appreciate it.

My Life in the Left Hand Turn Lane

2009-10-26T09:06:00.011-05:00

It always seems like I am turning left, whether taking the kids to school or returning home, or running errands.

Weird.

***
The girl (6) went back to school today after missing most of last week (she went to school on Wednesday but said she felt horrible and when I picked her up after school she had a temperature of 103.8). She has missed a total of eight days already this year and I suspect today, I will get the computer generated letter telling me she has excessive absences and if she misses seven more days she will not be eligible to pass first grade.

Grrr.

I understand that the school district legally has to notify you that your child is frequently absent and passing school might be jeopardized, but . . . since school started, the nation has had a very early flu season with two flu(s) floating around!

Six ran a fever for eight straight days . . . starting on Thursday and ending the next Friday. A child could easily miss 5 to 7 days of school for each case of flu (seasonal and H1N1)! I think over 15 absent days is the cut-off, so two bouts of flu and your out!

Grrr.

And the school does not want you to send your child to school sick.

The first three days six missed happened the third week of school and I think she might have had a mild case of the H1N1 flu - fever, body aches and diarrhea. Turns out that week, she was NOT the only one home ill. The absence rate was way high compared to last year at that time.

I'm not worried about six not passing first grade because of illness/absences. She is smart. ***We interrupt this old lady rant to insert some proud parental bragging rights*** At the beginning of the school year, the teacher tested all the kids on reading and math skills -Six got a perfect score on word recognition, something the teacher in 17 years of teaching had never seen before. And six already reads the wpm required of first graders to pass to second grade. ***End of bragging.***

What I am worried about is the necessity to change the rules this school season due to the already high absences related to the two flu(s). And the flu season has just begun. Parents should be able to keep their kids home to recover and not feel pressure to get them back in school based on the absence rate. (I understand this is very hard on working parents too, because it's tough to ask off work all week or longer to care for an ill child.)

****

The Book of Possibilities Replaced with a Plan

2009-10-23T11:06:00.004-05:00

The movie "Last Holiday" with Queen Latifa is one of my favorite "feel good" movies and I just loved the character's "book of possibilities". She made the book scrapbook-like and put in it, things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go and recipes she wanted to try.

There is a scene in the movie where she is looking at her book and crying because she hadn't implemented any of her possibilities, that is, until she thinks she only has a few weeks to live.

Only when she thinks she is dying, does she begin to live out her possibilities.

I don't want that to happen to me.

Debbi has a great Friday quote post today that got me thinking about this possibility/dream /action/plan thing.

For instance, the other morning when I was taking 13 to school, we were listening to the radio and the dj (Kidd Kraddick) was talking about single parents. According to some research he quoted, 1 in 5 single parents never dates again. Then he went on and described that single parent . . . sweat pants (I was wearing blue jean shorts), tee shirt (check!) flip flops (check!), no make-up (I prefer fresh faced but . . . check!) and so on and so on . . .

13 just looked at me like I was from outer space because, I was saying "check!" with each description.

Now the dating thing, I'm currently not interested in as we all know why (thank you vileman for making me currently not trust males) but I think right now, it's okay that I shy away from that part until I'm ready.

But I don't want to look like I have given up on myself either.

Right now my biggest "dream" is to find a good job. This job will be the most important job of my working career because it has to be something that I am satisfied with, that pays the bills and allows the kids and I to move into chapter two of this journey.

I haven't really written down a plan to find this great job. Oh, I've dreamed about the possibilities of finding great job and cashing my paycheck. I have been job hunting on the internet, large company websites, and the newspaper but I haven't sat down and decided what it is that I want to do, or at least narrowed it down. Instead, I have been applying for things I think I could do, even if it isn't something that might interest me.

I need a well thought out plan.

Exercising is another dream/possibility without a plan.

Sometimes, I daydream about doing yoga every morning and then walking after the kids get home from school or riding the exercise bike in the shop should it be raining. I need an exercise schedule stat! But more importantly, I need to implement the exercise schedule . . . STAT!

So, over the next few days, I will be making doable plans.

Time for a will

2009-10-21T09:01:00.013-05:00

This morning I'm running a temperature, a very low grade one. I usually run below 98.6 (around 97 degrees due to thyroid disease) so anything close to 100 is a temperature for me . . . a million little violins are playing . . .

Six went back to school this morning after being home since Friday with an "upper respiratory infection" . . .because doctor is tired of the flu diagnosis paperwork and testing for all patients with flu like symptoms . . .

While waiting for 6's dance class to end last week, another mom offered me an Avon book and said she was the Avon lady. I told her I used to use the Anew products. She studied my face and handed me some Anew product samples (the Anew line has products specified for each age decade 30's, 40's, and 50's . . . apparently your skin doesn't require anything new when you are in your 60's, 70's, 80's, 90's, or 100's ) . . . that's right, after studying my skin, she handed me samples for . . . . . .

THE 50's AGE GROUP . . . . the 50's and older age group!

. . . Don't like Avon lady . . . I'll buy Olay.

Tomorrow 12 turns 13 . . . he will now be called a teenager for the next five years . . . the adolescent-hell years . . . I can already feel my wrinkles deepening . . .

Today, I will be working on my last will and testament . . . because I have a temperature and I look old.

Take out the fat - put the fat back in . . .

2009-10-17T12:40:00.004-05:00

After re-thinking my resume, I decided it wasn't doing me any justice and retooled it. My original version was pared down because years ago, I had heard your resume should only be one page long. So, last year when I wrote my resume, I took out a lot of the "fat" and instead of highlighting my accomplishments, I focused on my job duties.

So, after a lot of research, rewriting, utilizing the right "buzz" words, and getting rid of a job on my resume (it aged me and I read you should only have the past 15 years of work on the resume -also, I have no desire to be a financial paraplanner and would not be looking for jobs in that area) I'm now ready to retry the job search with the new and improved resume.

Wish me luck!

***

I spent a lot of time re-tooling the resume last week but in between breaks, I cleaned out my closet and the four foot lockers full of clothes that no matter how many times I weed out - still seem to never make much of a dent (sort of like my credit card balances).

There is a show called "Closet Cases" with Lloyd Boston that I love to watch on Saturday afternoon (Fine Living Network). His advice is to make three piles: Stop, Go and Yield . . . I did that and managed to get two large trash bags full of clothing for donation to Goodwill. My goal would be to have one foot locker for out-of-season clothing storage.

***

Six got sick Thursday night. She said her head hurt. She was also running a fever and I was afraid she was going to have the flu - she had a field trip scheduled for Friday at the pumpkin patch and she couldn't go because Friday morning she still had a fever. Boo Hoo! I felt so bad for her (second thing she didn't get to do) but I promised when she felt better I would take her to the pumpkin patch.

This morning she has had no fever, just a runny nose and a wet cough. Hopefully it is just a cold.

***
The rain finally stopped yesterday and the sun is actually shining today - the temperatures are in the low 70's - a beautiful fall day just waiting for me to enjoy a nice walk.

Have a great weekend.

Another Rambling Post

2009-10-12T09:14:00.007-05:00

It has been raining and raining and raining for the last few days. Prior to this past week's rain, it rained for almost 10 days straight a couple of weeks ago . . . the ground is soaked already! Not complaining, because this summer we were in a drought - no rain for 40 plus days and when it did rain it was a short sprinkle - not a soaker.

I just don't like gloomy days.

****

Vickie, the high school drill team puts on a camp every year for the younger girls to have the opportunity to dance with the drill team during half-time at one of the football games. I signed 6 up and she went to the two workshops last week but unfortunately, the weather went from 90 degrees on Thursday afternoon to 50 degrees and rainy by Friday afternoon. When I picked 6 up from school she had a runny nose, so I decided not to let her perform that night. I know that the weather doesn't make one sick, but I didn't want to chance her getting worse, especially with the flu bug going around this area. She would have been miserable sitting on the cold bleachers waiting for half-time. And this kid's teeth start to chatter at 72 degrees.

I did get to see her perform the routine several times on the football field on Tuesday night during their practice. Still, I sort of feel guilty about keeping her home that night.

They do it again during basketball season so she will have that opportunity, plus it's indoors!

***

Since the weather turned chilly with temps staying in the 50's for a few days, it was time to buy jeans for the kids. I warned 12 ahead of time that we were going shopping, told him the stores we were going to go to and in what order, and that I didn't want to hear any complaints or how much longer? or how many more stores do we have to go to? sassy talk from him.

He was very good. 6 is always good because she loves to shop.

Unfortunately, 12 is at that awkward slim stage where nothing fits in the waist without being high-waters. We finally settled on 28 x 30's at Old Navy. He probably needs a 27 inch waist. We also picked up solid colored long sleeve tee shirts for layering under his short tee's. Old Navy has the softest tee shirts.

Last stop was at Aeropostale for hoodies and more tee's. (By the way, the boys at this small country junior high school dress way, way nicer than the girls. I have seen only a handful of girls that looks stylish.)

Anyway, the kids each got some warm clothes and I feel blessed that I had the money to buy them. I know a lot of families are financially strapped and having a hard time making ends meet and I hope this recession eases up soon.

****

Well, with the dampness came a very slow internet connection - so off to do some chores.

Have a great week!

Favorites

2009-10-09T08:50:00.006-05:00

Time for a less paranoid post, so I'll put away my wrinkled trench coat, but only temporarily.

A couple of weeks ago, Hanlie passed the baton on a meme - 10 secret things about yourself. I have already spilled all secrets/skeletons, etc. so I thought I would switch it up and do my current 10 favorite things:

Favorite Breakfast:
This is a recipe from the Crack/Fat Diet but I do not add any artificial sweeteners as suggested in the book:
Mix 3/4 cup of egg beaters with one individual package of plain oatmeal. Add one scoop of protein powder and more egg beaters if needed. Pour into a small omelet pan, cover and cook on low heat, when omelet set, flip over for a few minutes. Serve with low-sugar syrup or low-sugar jam/jelly.

Favorite Lunch:
Buffalo Chicken - Wingless Wrap
On a Flat-Out Wrap, spread one tablespoon of low-fat blue cheese dressing mixed with a little Frank's hot wing sauce. Layer chicken on top of the dressing. Top with shredded broccoli slaw. Roll wrap and slice in half. Serve with sliced honeycrisp apple.
This wrap is full of fiber, veggies and protein.

Favorite Relaxation Technique:
I'm a bundle of nerves these days and you will find me doing this several times throughout the day:
Get on the floor and lie on your back. Spread your arms and legs out, making an "X". Close your eyes and breathe in through your mouth and slowly exhale through your nose.

Favorite TV Guilty Pleasure:
The Rachel Zoe Project
Rachel needs to use the above relaxation technique. I swear, I can almost smell her Starbucks venti coffee breath through her permanently pinched little mouth. She also has two drama queens as style assistants: Taylor, a white haired, no eyes, grumpy gal and a male assistant stylist (I can't remember his name) who cries almost every episode.

Favorite New Fall TV Show:
Glee
Though it has a lot of adult humor, I only cringe a little when watching this fun show with 12 (who will be 13 in two weeks). Makes me want to sing and dance. And Jane Lynch's PE/Cheerleader coach trying to sabotage the Glee club because they took a small portion of her budget (she wanted a fog machine) is the funniest character in this show.

Favorite Magazine:
All You
I have only seen this magazine at Walmart. The cost is $2.49 but it has $$$'s of coupons in it (the only reason I buy it). Some coupons are for free products and there are lots of make-up coupons.

Favorite Cheap Entertainment:
Redbox rental videos!

Favorite Time Spent with 12 & 6 That Involves Spending Money:
Seeing a movie together that we all enjoy. "Up" was a wonderful movie. "G-Force" . . .not so much.

Favorite Time Spent with 12 & 6 That Involves Discussing Money:
Pig piling on the bed and talking about what we would buy if we were rich. 6 really likes this game. She loves to describe how she would decorate her room . . . horses, horses and more horses painted on the walls.

Favorite Parent Time (currently):
Watching 12 play football and making a great tackle. Watching 6 dance with the high school drill team.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

2009-10-06T11:33:00.005-05:00

Cracking the fat hasn't been as fat cracking as I thought it would be BUT, I haven't been exercising, either. I'm starting the 7 week cycle back over this week (as you are supposed to if you need to lose additional weight) but not going to redo the carb-deplete week - just starting back at week 2.

The other day I noticed in the garage, that my dad had his old exercise bike still around. I can promise you, my dad hasn't exercised on it since 1990. When 12 was a baby, I borrowed it for a couple of years and actually had some success with weight loss when I alternated between the bike and aerobics (this was before I bought a treadmill). The bike looked like it was still in pretty good shape. . . probably because it had about the same mileage that Grandma put on her car, which she only drove to church on Sunday morning. ***Insert rant***My parents do not throw anything away. They are not hoarders like extreme hoarders but they sure hold on to things they don't use or haven't used in years. For instance, they moved here from Tulsa in 2005. You would think that the rusty, 37 year old tandem bike that my older sister and I rode for fun when we were in 7th and 3rd grade would have been given to the junk yard instead of paying to have a moving company haul it here, where it sits in my dad's workshop . . . along with the 1957 Chevy he has had for years and "is gonna fix up". ***End of rant***

Sorry, it's amazing that I have no sentimental emotions toward objects and pretty much left behind years of stuff from the old life. It all can be replaced.

Anyway, the exercise bike has been pulled out, cleaned-up and put away in the shop for easy access. Now that the weather is a wee bit crisp (gosh I love, love, love! autumn) I got no more excuses . . . time to get out and walk and use the exercise bike.

The kids and I watch TBL on Saturday nights on Bravo and 6 asked me if I wanted her to be my personal trainer. She showed me a bunch of exercises she does in PE class. How sweet is that?

****

I spoke with Lori the other day and she said something that Det. Colombo hadn't thought of . . .she says it sounds like vileman is on the run . . . yikes!

If he is on the run, he won't be bothering us.

Still won't be letting my guard down.

Channeling Det. Colombo in a Minivan

2009-10-01T10:04:00.008-05:00

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

- Sun tzu

Yesterday, I sat around and spent a little time thinking of scenarios of why vileman lost his job. I used the old strategy "if that happened then this would happen" and came up with an answer that I'm willing to accept.

After vileman got that job last year, my dad looked up their website and printed out the job application. We were shocked anyone would hire him with an indictment hanging over his head. But, the application never asked have you ever been indicted? Instead it asked "have you ever been convicted of a felony". Since vileman hasn't been convicted yet, he didn't lie on his application. So, I'm thinking that maybe the company didn't want a possible lawsuit against them for firing an "alleged" s*x off*nd*r. (Sorry for the weird spellings . . . don't want any google drop ins to this sight.)

Also, if someone tipped off his boss about the indictment and that is why he was terminated, then vileman would have blamed me, or someone in my family. He would have been angry enough to call my parents residence or emailed his wrath. (My family would have never told his company about him because my children benefited from that job: great health care insurance and child support.)

Vileman didn't tell his family. If he was terminated because of his indictment, he would have been indignant, outraged and defensive and would want to blame someone and let someone(s) hear him, so I pretty sure he would have told his family.

Maybe he quit to work somewhere else? Nope - he would have contacted his family if he had quit that job to take a better job.

He could have done something illegal and got arrested. But, I think his arrest would have gotten back to the first arresting detective and he would have notified me.

Though vileman's previous company didn't monitor his email/web searches or history, I would think he might be a little more discreet and not use his business computer for illicit downloads. I know his bond restrictions dictate that he has to report to a community supervisor. He has the right to check his work computer (vileman wasn't allowed to have a personal computer) and load monitoring software on it if he thought necessary. Since vileman has not sought any treatment, maybe the urges made him careless. This is my first best guess at what might have happened.

Through the process of elimination, my second guess is going to be he broke a company rule. (I don't know if I ever mentioned that on the day vileman got arrested, he borrowed a company vehicle to drive to the scene of the crime where he was arrested. When the detectives asked me if he always drove the blue Ford? I looked shocked and told the detectives that wasn't his car. They all three shook there heads and decided it was a company car. I laughed when they said that and made a comment something along the lines of "what a dumb ass" and we all shared a good belly laugh).

Maybe he got caught taking kickbacks as he was in purchasing.

Whatever it was, he was too embarrassed to let anyone in his family know he had been terminated.

***

With no fancy title and power, comes the loss of those perks to keep you busy and not thinking about doing time. And when you travel to the New Orleans office as often as he did, the lifestyle of going to Hornets and Saints games plus home town's teams, well you end up with a lot of free time on your hands.

Vileman would probably (and I know I'm right about his) cry on whomever's shoulder about missing his kids but he kept busy with things that vile would find fun. We have never seen any sign that he has spied on us or followed us since moving here.

But that was before he lost his job.

He stayed at the same hotel chain when he traveled to the other office and I know he has many many hotel points for free nights. Country town has that hotel, so yesterday before picking the kids up from school, I drove by and checked the parking lot for his car. I'm going to do it everyday until I know he has been put away or hear something about where he is.

I have a list and phone numbers of his former friends from Oklahoma. Since a lot of them own their own small businesses, I suspect he will be notifying them for job leads.

His silence is deafening!

And very scary.

Not paralyzing scary.

****

Ironically or good timing, last Friday, 6 saw the healer to discuss not going with vileman should he show up at her school or see him(we did not know about his job loss at this time). The healer worked with her for almost 1 1/2 hours and I know she gets it.

I don't worry as much for 12, because he knows and promises me he will seek adult help if vileman should ever approach him.

When the walls start to close in . . .

2009-09-29T11:35:00.005-05:00

Yesterday morning, after dropping the kids off at school, I had a nagging feeling something wasn't right with two recent emails I had received, one from vileman on Wednesday afternoon and another email from his sister, sent on that same evening. Because his sister sent her email to me at my old life's email address, (which I only check periodically), I didn't get her email until late Sunday night.

As you know, I am going on six months of not communicating with vileman. He sends an email and a certified letter/package every two weeks.

Which I just make copies, file away and ignore.

There is usually a threatening and demanding undertone to his words as in "I will not hesitate to take you to court" or "I demand that you reply to this email and let me know you received . . .." and my favorite bluff "you need to read the divorce decree as you are not complying by it".

His birthday was last Tuesday and I was expecting the email telling me how mean I am for not allowing the kids to send him a card or calling him. (The divorce decree says no contact with the children.)

Instead, his email said he wanted me to know that he sent two extra months of child support to the childsupport distribution center and that I should be on the lookout for it.

No threats, no demands, no calling me "mean".

His sister's email basically said "sorry to bother you but I'm worried sick about vileman because we haven't been able to reach him. He dosen't answer his cell phone or his emails."

Don't worry, he isn't dead . . . not that you would be worried . . .

He lost his job.

And I suspected it on Monday morning. I told my dad my suspicions about him losing his job. Pop disagreed with me and said he wasn't incompetent. So I pointed out the red flags:

#1 - His family was not able to get hold of him on his cell nor was he answering his emails. Vile had a company owned blackberry. If he had been terminated, he would have had to hand it in along with the company's laptop.

#2 - Why would he give extra child support?

Got the answer several hours later, when the mail came. The company he was employed with notified me by letter, that vile was no longer an employee. (They had to notify me because his wages were garnished to pay child support.)

I got a little pleasure out of telling my dad that my gut instinct was RIGHT.

He lost his job on the 18th. So I'm now wondering "why?"

Did the rumor mill finally catch up with him about his indictment? (Vickie, he was indicted last August and has been awaiting trial since then.)

Or did he revert to old habits and the company caught him misusing company property?

Why hasn't he sent a letter himself, telling me he was no longer employed and that the children will be losing their health /dental benefits?

Don't worry, I have kept a high deductible health insurance plan on the kids and myself since June 27th, 2008, so we are covered. Also, I have enough savings (unless something horrible happens) to get us by for almost six months.

Sorry to go on with boring details.

How are the walls closing in on him . . . well, now he doesn't have that high income to continue to pay the criminal lawyer for anything above and beyond what the original fees would cover. I can pretty much guess the days of "continued by agreement" will come to an end.

I also heard through a friend last year, that vileman found that position (director of a department) through someone at his church who recommended him. ***Insert back story****When vile got caught cheating on me in 2001 and I divorced him, he immediately ran to the church and put on a big display of going to Sunday school and joining men's groups. He would do testimonies at other churches about how he strayed and would never do that do his family again, blah blah blah***End of back story***

In the three years we lived in old life's town before I fled with the kids, we never set food in a church.

Guess what vile did after he got out of jail?

That's right. He ran to Sunday school.

What I'm trying to write (very poorly at that) is I bet his church circle has found out . . . and I know I wouldn't want to sit by a ped-o-vile.

And if his church circle has found out, then the roommate that he lives with (another divorced man that he met at church) will find out . . . and so on and so on. Maybe I should have titled this the domino effect.

Basically, his support system will begin to get smaller and smaller.

And that will drive him nuts . . . which will not be good for me or the children.

So we are now on high alert - the kids can't play outside unless someone is with them (me, my mother or father). Instead of leaving the girl at dance class, I will now need to stay at the studio.

I wouldn't turn my back on a snake and he is a slimy, venomous snake.

By the way, that is only the second time someone from his family has tried to contact me since vile's arrest. Remember his mother called on Feb. 15th for the first time asking to speak to "her grandchildren"? His sister never even asked how the kids were doing, it was all about her being worried about her brother.

I find it funny that his family of six siblings and a mom and dad, let vile sit in a jail for 8 days and never bailed him out. I would have been more worried sick about him being in jail as a ped-o-vile and at the mercy of the other inmates, but . . . that family is weird.

Okay, I have now written this shit out and need to go back to concentrating on job hunting. I'm hoping that getting it out here will free it from my mind, at least temporarily.

Perusing the Classifieds

2009-09-27T20:35:00.003-05:00

I am . . . for really really really real, looking for employment.

Gasp!

Noticed I said employment and not career.

It's going to be tough. (I know we are supposed to be coming out of the recession but funny how unemployment is way up.)

For fits and giggles, I applied on line for a warehouse packer position at a large store's distribution center. The location was very close to home and they were looking for weekend workers to work three 12 hour days. That would have freed me up for four days of still being a stay-at-home mom and the pay was a lot better than minimum wage. The ad in the paper said would need to be able to lift 30 pounds.

I could do that!

The on-line application asked a lot of questions about different warehouse equipment and how much experience you had on them. Since the majority of my 20 years work experience has been white collar professional . . . well, needless to say, I have no experience running a fork lift (seated or standing) or packing machine.

I got my "dear john" email three days later.

That job would not have paid all the bills (should the child-support stop) but it had nice benefits.
I guess they were not looking for a middle aged, female with a bachelors of science degree in sociology.

Luckily, I have lots of experience in different things, so I'm not too limited. Just a wee bit nervous about the six year gap of no work, while staying at home.

I don't want them to think I was put away in the "big house" during that time.

****

Speaking of the "big house", vileman's trial has been continued by agreement (once again!) and he is now on the October docket.

I'm thinking his time is running out and the trial will probably happen before the end of the year.

The Gray Area

2009-09-22T13:24:00.007-05:00

Today I programed the DVR to record the Dr. Oz show. (We are a day behind because of the tennis match last Tuesday).

It's supposed to be about the effects of stress on a woman's body.

I'm almost afraid to watch.

Waiting for someone to go to trial is very stressful.

Not knowing when vileman will go to trial or what the outcome will be is so stressful.

Lately, my mind has been in overdrive thanks to way too many Law and Order episodes. (L&O: Criminal Intent is my favorite.)

In my biased mind, I think how the trial will play out. I imagine scenarios and think of comebacks for the prosecuting attorney.

For instance, vileman pled the 5th to every horrific question my attorney asked him at our temporary order hearing. So, I think "hmm, I wonder if they can use the transcripts from that hearing in his criminal trial?" If so, how would the ADA know about it?

I had a few things that I thought vileman's community service supervisor should know about, but I'll spare you the details.

So, I called the detective who arrested vileman and told him my thoughts. He was patient with me and understood my position, but it seems I would just look like a revengeful ex-wife. Not a mother trying to protect her children from vileman.

Grrr.

Last week, 6 was home sick with a viral bug and while she was watching cartoons, I picked up one of my dad's cow magazines. It's focus was on stressed calves (moo moo calves) and how the stress when they are taken from their momma's for weaning prior to being sold, affects them negatively.

Apparently, these stressed out calves get sick because of the high cortisol levels that the stress produces.

It made me think about my situation and the disservice I am doing to my body.

Anyways, I will be very interested in watching the Dr. Oz show when I get back from picking the kids up from school.

*********

I'm still up 1.8 pounds - thanks to the Lady cycle week - I sort of deviated from the plan by having three carb-up days and four base-line days that week. My carb-up days were very tame, (as in high fiber cereal for dinner) so no need to beat myself up. The lesson learned is: when I feel lady cycle coming on, I need to immediately switch to carb down day and stay there until the week passes to keep the carb cravings at bay.

This week I started on the accelerated fat cycle.

********

Edited on 9/24/09: I'm finally back down this morning (had been up late last week to 2.8 pounds but by Sunday had lost 1 pound and had a 1.8 gain of water retention left) . . . weight loss to date 10.2 pounds - wished it was faster but I don't feel deprived and that is probably going to help with continuing on.

Week 5 Oh the Joys of Peri-menopause

2009-09-13T19:24:00.004-05:00

I'm up 1.8 pounds and I know it is water retention from my carb-up day on Saturday. No binge, but I did share a bag of microwave popcorn with 6 while watching "Hannah Montana the movie".

I sprinkled my bowl with a little dry ranch seasoning and some Parmesan cheese. A wee bit too salty.

Sunday morning, my lady cycle showed up . . . again. She has become very unpredictable these days, showing up sometimes every couple of weeks or not showing up for three months. I just never know.

Hence the salt craving and the reason the crazy lady was practically licking the empty popcorn bowl.

And the grumpies are here too.

I'm looking forward to the end of the week already.

Week 4 of Cracking the Fat

2009-09-07T11:40:00.004-05:00

The fourth week ended with a 2 pound loss giving me a total of 10 pounds lost for 4 weeks.

This makes me happy.

I always have my weight loss at the end of the week, so I spend the first part of the week frustrated. But now I know and I'll try not to be too disappointed on Tuesday's and Wednesday's weigh-ins.

My clothes are getting a little looser and that too, makes me happy.

I am NOT the type of person who can lose 10 pounds and drop a whole clothing size. This does not make me happy.

Unfortunately, I am at the magic number that has been a huge plateau problem for me in the past. Over the years, when I have been at this weight, it was fairly easy to maintain for months and months until I would start snacking away - then I would hit the other plateau . . . the 10 pounds heavier one. Knowing this does not make me happy.

But, I have managed very nicely for four weeks and am willing to keep on, so maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to crack this number that my body seems to love and keep on losing.

That will make me very, very happy.

Why I love my flipflops!

2009-09-04T09:38:00.003-05:00

Because they don't cause blisters.

Enough said.

***

The boy's karate instructor was forced to close shop, due to the economy, starting a new career and wanting to spend more time with his family. It's frustrating to start going to a new karate group, because you almost have to start over (because of the different kind of disciplines) and he had already worked up to a blue belt. The instructor said he was meeting twice a month with the upper belts to help them complete their black belts. He said 12 year old showed a lot of promise and invited him to join the group. *If you remember, I was very leery of this guy last year. But as the year went by, I became more comfortable with him and the other instructor. I will probably always be hyper-vigilant with adult males that work with my children. Better safe than sorry.

Anyway, if 12's schedule will allow it, he will be able to continue working toward his black belt with the same instructor.

***

Six is very embarrassed about having to still ride in a car seat. She barely weighs 42 pounds, is petite and still fits comfortably in the 5-point harness car seat.

Yesterday when I picked her up (I have to wait in an incredibly looooong car line (the first day, I had flashbacks of Hurricane Rita traffic) that is still being policed by five patrol cars (at least it's safe!) she got in the car and scooted over to the over side where there isn't a car seat and proclaimed "I think I'll sit here." When I insisted she get in her car seat, she fussed that she is in FIRST GRADE AND STILL SITTING IN A CAR SEAT! And so and so, doesn't have to sit in one!.

Too bad, because if she were to get a cold or pick up a virus tomorrow, she would weigh under 40 pounds.

It's not easy being six.

***

I'm still plugging along on the Crack the Fat Loss diet. But the weight loss is very s-l-o-w. Grrr.

Snap Out of It!

2009-08-31T09:18:00.006-05:00

So week three (cycle 2 for me), I ended up with no weight loss. In fact, by Wednesday morning, after my first two carb-down days, I was up 2 pounds.

This irritates me, because I have followed the plan with no slip-ups. Thankfully, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, all showed weight-losses, bringing me back to last weeks weight loss total of 8 pounds.

This past weeks results made me grumpy. I mumbled under my breath about quiting and returning to counting calories and eating WHATEVER I WANTED as long as I didn't exceed 1400 calories. I mumbled some more that I used to lose at least 2 pounds a week doing it that way.

Then, I decided that losing 8 pounds in three weeks wasn't too shabby and remembered that I haven't counted calories in a very, very long time. Also, this diet has seriously nipped my carbohydrate and sweet tooth cravings. A very good thing.

Saturday evening, I started walking again. I'm hoping that the cardio will shake things up a little bit this week and by next Monday, I will see a weight loss for the week.

Planning the Carb Up Day

2009-08-28T08:53:00.003-05:00

So, how crazy am I, that I'm already planning my menu for tomorrow? The Crack the Fat menu for the carb up day gives examples for the last two meals: sub sandwich and two slices of pizza.

That is not want I want. Got no cravings for a deli-meat sandwich since I already eat turkey roll-ups frequently during the week.

I want a peanut butter sandwich made on Ezekiel bread.

And my second carb-up meal will be a serving of low-sugar, high fiber cereal.

Mmmm.

Oatmeal Never Tasted So Good

2009-08-24T09:26:00.004-05:00

Today is my first carb-down day on the Crack the Fat Loss Code and I had power oatmeal for breakfast. I did continue with cycle 1 all last week (the carb deplete cycle) because I wanted to get the glycogen (the chocolate malt balls fiasco) out of my system. And according to the author of the book, it takes 72 hours to get rid of the glycogen. Last Monday night would have been the 72 hour cut-off, but I chose to continue on.

And I'm glad I did.

I started my lady cycle on Monday night and immediately felt bloated. I could literally feel the water retention filling up my body and I don't salt anything. NORMALLY, the day before, I CRAVE chocolate, which may have been why I had no resistance to 6's chocolate candy. On the positive side, I had no food cravings after that. No sweet tooth!

On the negative side, I had zero energy. Zilch.

By Sunday morning, I was down 1.8 pounds for a total loss for two weeks of 8 pounds.

Beware a tangent:

I have a lot of problems with the book. First, the editing is terrible and I have to wonder if it was even proof read. Another problem (major) her recipes should have been fact-checked/kitchen tested because several of the nutritional values are grossly inaccurate.

***

The kids are at school and let me tell you, it was a lot easier this year dropping them off. Last year, I think we all resented having to be here instead of where we thought our future was going to be. Last year, the boy had to enter a school where he did not know anyone. This year, he is at a different school (moved up to junior high) but he is no longer the new kid. When I was walking the girl to her classroom (she too, is at a new school - this school district has only two grades at each campus except the high school. So last year she was at the Pre K/Kindergarten campus and this year she is at the 1st/2nd grade campus) anyway, one of her little friends ran over and gave her a big hug.

Last year, I cried the whole way home because the boy looked so self-conscious walking into the school. This year, I didn't watch him. I turned the other way. When I finally took a peek in my rear-view mirror, he was talking with a group of kids. Phew.

No tears necessary.

Back to School Ready

2009-08-21T12:55:00.003-05:00

Backpacks, school supplies, new tennis shoes and clothes - all purchased. The 7th grader has attended his orientation, received his class schedule and locker number. His hair has been cut for the athletics program (the shortest it has been in the last couple of years and wow! The boy has beautiful eyes.)

The 1st grader met her teacher yesterday and is ready, ready, ready!

The only person not ready is me!

Waaaaaaaa!

I know this was the last summer we would have together with me as a stay at home mom and I'm wishing it was the start of summer vacation instead.

***

The garden will be ready for planting peas and beans this weekend. Last month I looked at the county ag/extension for the planting dates and could be planting up till October (turnips).

The first of September, spinach and cabbage will go in, then two weeks later the lettuces, radishes and parsnips.

The girl and I planted earlier this week, a bunch of herbs in individual pots (sweet basil, chives, cilantro, Italian parsley, oregano, rosemary, spearmint and tarragon).

***

I'll update the Crack the Fat diet on Sunday.

Have a great weekend.

Week 1 Review

2009-08-16T16:37:00.004-05:00

I started the "Crack the Fat Loss Code" diet last Sunday and other than the ham snafu, I had one small (but major) derailment.

After weighing in this morning, my weight loss for Week 1 was 6.2 pounds.

My small derailment happened Friday afternoon at the movies. I ate about 20 pieces of 6 year olds chocolate malt balls. I really don't like those things and was actually just sucking on them but once I started, I had that fat-lady can't quit thing going on (it was a very big box). I was counting them, loathing myself but thankfully, managed to finally stop.

A serving is 18 pieces with 30 plus carbs/serving.

Yikes!

On Saturday morning, the scale showed a one pound gain.

Very illuminating how "unnecessary" carbs/sugar may affect your weight, no matter how small it may seem.

Other than that, I felt it was easy to stay on plan for the whole week.

The Atkins diet has you do a two week induction period of limiting carbs to less than 20. Also, the South Beach diet's Phase I limits carbs for the first two weeks . . . so, I have decided to repeat this first cycle again this week.

I don't expect to lose another 6 pounds next week, because I realize this weight loss is water weight. I'm just giving myself a bigger loss (hopefully) before the macro cycle begins.

P.S. - I have no desire for chocolate of any form, especially dark chocolate as of yesterday. I spread four wheelbarrows of horse dookies into a plot that I plan to use for a fall vegetable garden.

It was Ham! Eeek!

2009-08-14T11:47:00.004-05:00

Instead of driving the 35 minutes to the small/mid city grocery store, which seems like a big city grocery store with INVENTORY, I chose to go to the closer small country town (where the kids go to school) grocery store.

Both grocery stores have the same name, just small country town store doesn't carry my favorite deli meat brand "Boarshead". Nor do they stock Greek yogurt which the small/mid city store does.

Anyway, should you still be reading . . .

I asked the girl at the deli if they had low-sodium turkey breast (I know the other store does - "Boarshead" yum.) She said "no", but they had a "natural" turkey breast. So I asked her to slice up about a pound and requested that she please separate with paper every 3 ounces (the other store would not have rolled their eyes for this request . . . I know, because I have watched how customer service driven they are at that store.)

By the way, the original store is very nice - with a coffee bar and free WIFI and a large speciality deli. When I go into small/mid city for counseling, I always stop by there and pick up the hard to find items.

I ran errands two days ago in the afternoon, prior to leaving the house, I tried to put a ring on my finger but my fingers were swollen. What? I hadn't had any bloat and was losing weight!

Last night I finally realized why my "natural turkey" didn't look like turkey but was instead "smoked ham". It even said "smoked ham" on the label.

At the orthodontist on Wednesday morning, I heard one of the ladies say they were closing two of those satellite grocery stores. She mentioned small country town as one of the stores expected to shut down.

I think that would be tragic and I hope the company doesn't shut it down because that would leave only Super Wallys for the townfolk to shop at.

Small country town store just needs to improve on inventory because the town is expected to grow and has already seen a growth of 50% in the last 10 years.

Small country town is growing, thanks to their school district. Three of the four schools (the high school, the middle school and the 3rd/4th grade campus) all received exemplary ratings (the highest ratings awarded Texas schools). The junior high earned recognized - (the second highest rating). Also, the high school (a little less than 1,000 students) had zero dropouts for the school year 2008/2009.

That is incredible and I have vowed to do whatever it takes to keep the kids in this school district.

***

Wow - what a tangent!

Anyway, I'm taking the kids to small/mid city today to try, once again, to get the 12 year old new tennis shoes (he was a little pain in the booty on Wednesday - the first attempt) and to go to the movies. Since we will be by the original good store, I plan to stop in for the "low-sodium turkey breast" deli meat. I'll just have to bring a cooler to store it in.

I'll be back to post on Sunday about the first week of Cycle 1 in the Crack the Fat Loss Code diet. Until then, hope you all have a great weekend.

Fear Snacking Factor

2009-08-11T10:54:00.004-05:00

You remember in January, the divorce was finalized and I was doing too much giddy eating? Well, eventually that giddiness snacking was replaced by fear snacking.

Fear snacking?

Yep.

I kept snacking when full and just couldn't place what was wrong, and I knew something had to be bothering me or why would I be over-eating?

It was fear of what the future held for the kids and I. Fear that vileman will be acquitted. Fear that he will then show-up demanding to see the kids. Fear that his guilty verdict will make this city's paper (they always print vile peoples sentences from around the state in this mid-small newspaper). Fear that I might have to testify at his trial - something I do not want to do because I had nothing to do with his decisions or that lifestyle that he lived behind my back. DO NOT want to be dragged into his ugliness. Fear that when he serves his sentence, he will show up wherever my doorstep will be. Fear I will always be looking over my shoulder for him.

Vileman keeps getting continued by agreements - his trial has now been pushed back to late September. Very aggravating to me because I'm ready to exit this transitional phase.

Quieting the fears without food:

Acquittal is probably highly unlikely.

Should an acquittal happen, he will not be able to just show up - the kids have the backing of counselors who know and will testify that it would not be in the best interest of the children to visit with him.

I will not have to testify because he did all that ugliness when he should have been at work. If it was in the off-hours, it was because he called home and said he had to work late or left his keys at the office or my favorite excuse "I forgot I drove to work and rode the bus home - so I just stayed on the bus and went back downtown."

If I do have to testify, I will be confident and not allow attorneys to frustrate me. I will take my time and think out each question prior to a "yes" or "no" answer.

I will not let "what is going to happen when vileman gets out of jail" paralyze me. The kids and I need to live our lives for today.

Phew.

To counter-act the 10 pounds gained from "snacking", I got on the Crack the Fat-Loss Code diet. Started on Sunday and this morning my weight-loss was at 5 pounds. Woo Hoo!

08/08/09

2009-08-08T12:21:00.002-05:00

Thank goodness Vickie is always there to give me a little nudge to post something . . . because I'm very lazy. I get on the internet (dial - up - GROAN) and by the time I have read blogs, I'm too impatient to post or blog myself.

The boys were out of the tournament on the third day. When we were headed back to my sister's house, 12 year old had me pull over . . . he was sick to his stomach . . . to the point where I had to bring him to the ER that night because he said the pain in his stomach was unbearable. I immediately thought "appendicitis" - but he just had a bug and was very dehydrated. The ER room was very quiet when we got there and thankfully he was seen immediately. We didn't leave until the next morning because they wanted to observe him overnight. All the nurses thought he was so cute and kept checking on him.

After I slept most of the afternoon, the kids and I went back home.

Two days later, I had the horrible stomach pains.

12 year old lost 6 pounds.

I gained 2.

State Bound

2009-07-26T22:59:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow we head west for the State playoffs with a 70% chance of rain waiting to greet us. The tournament is a little over 100 miles from home and 48 or so miles from my younger sister's house . . . so . . . we will be staying with her for the week instead of a hotel.

The only thing the boy will miss out on is swimming with his team-mates on Tuesday morning - the only day that their coach will allow them to swim.

His cousin is his age and playing with him during the day before his game will be more fun than sitting around a small hotel room.

My sister has a pool, so as long as 12 year old doesn't swim too long, he should be okay for . . . sitting on the bench during the game! (Ha!) But seriously, I have tried to encourage 12 to embrace the bench and mentally be prepared in case he is called into the game. He isn't alone. After his team won the league, they had to draft three other players from the 3rd place team. The coach warned us that the boys that will be drafted will be starters. Their team went from 11 players to 14 so 5 boys are always on the bench.

Well - lots of lightening happening - so will sign off until next week!

Busy, Busy, Busy Bees

2009-07-19T21:15:00.001-05:00

Would you believe my son is still playing baseball? I know. I know!

His regular season ended at the end of June. The team came in first, so they went to the district playoffs last week.

They won. Ugh.

Now it's off to the state playoffs next week.

Though he did play a bunch in the regular season, he was a bench warmer during the playoffs and I know the same will be true at state. Grrr.

My parents were gone for two weeks, taking care of my 94 year old grandfather (don't worry he is doing fine - he fell after being dizzy).

Did I mention we were in a drought? Did I also mention, that my mother has landscaped acres of flowers, bushes, trees, fruit trees, roses and various other plants that have to be watered? Did I mention we had no rain for two weeks and temperatures as high as 104 degrees? I knew my mother would be MAD if I let all her plants die . . . so every morning I got up, walked the dog, brought in the newspaper and set up the hoses and sprinklers.

Who knew hoses were heavy?

Yards and yards and yards of hoses.

I also was feeling ambitious and started cleaning the mold off the white fence along the pasture and driveway. I felt like a dental hygienist, cleaning teeth.

Every muscle in my back ached.

But I have a nice light tan. (I used 70 SPF and applied every hour.)

I only managed to get the driveway portion of the fence (31 panels on each side of the driveway) so I still have a lot more work ahead of me washing the pasture panels.

And the fire ants loved the taste of my feet!

***
The boy's Xbox 360 died. He wants to try the towel trick where you overheat the unit. Supposedly it works. I'm a little peeved that this happens all the time to the Xbox and it costs $140 for Microsoft to fix it, when it clearly is a problem/bug/design flaw on their part. Looks like we will be trying the towel fix.

Don't feel too bad for him, because he and his sister also have a Wii, so he is still playing videos.

***
Looked like the boy's PLEVA (remember he was diagnosed with that after his chicken pox never went away) was coming back in May, so his doctor sent us to the dermatologist. They took a few biopsies of his sores and it turns out, he doesn't have PLEVA, just itchy skin that he scratches way too much. After a round of antibiotics and some cream for the sores, his legs look almost normal.

I took him back to the dermatologist on Friday for his return appointment and he was telling the physician assistant (a man in his 30's) about staying up late playing video games. The PA asked him if he played Mario Kart and what was his handle because he will race him on line.

And that is a good example of why I have never let 12 year old play "Live" on the internet. Ha!

Gosh, I hope I'm not always going to be like this.

Fleeing the Bastille Anniversary

2009-06-25T14:20:00.002-05:00

Oh what a difference a year makes. I wish you could see and compare my old drivers license picture with my new one that I got last week.

It's all in the eyes.

Last year on the 26th of June, I sat at my parents' dining table not knowing what the future would look like for us. All I could think of was the worse case scenarios - having to foreclose on my house, losing everything, filing for bankruptcy and the fear of heinous things vileman may have done prior to being caught.

The last six months of 2008 were so uncertain, but by December I was feeling pretty darn good. The first of that month, I went back to the old place to pack up some toys for the kids and to sign some paperwork at my lawyer's office. His paralegal was shocked when I gave her my drivers license (the old one) for her to write down my DL number in her notary book. She gasped and said I looked nothing like that lady in the picture. I joked and said that yes, I had definitely aged over the last six months and she insisted that wasn't it, that the picture depicts a very sad woman.

That old photo just screams "help me".

The paralegal wasn't the only one that day to notice. Prior to heading to the lawyer' office, I stopped at my swimming buddy's house to drop off the entire "Left Behind" book series, where her 12 year old son looked at me and said "you look different."

I guess I was wearing a new attitude.

2009 has been the year of transition . . . it started off perfect with the divorce finalized on January 6th, the selling of the house in April and (keeps fingers crossed) this fall, I hope to find a job and return to work after 6 years of being a stay-at-home mom.

Those first few weeks last June, I slept with a large, heavy, lucite award given to my dad in 2000. What little sleep I got, you could bet my fingers were tightly grasped on that odd security blanket/protection. I kept my fears to myself, but the boy voiced them out loud - "I'm scared he is going to come and kill you because you didn't bail him out of jail". That is so sad, yet he knew, at age 11 (at that time), that vileman might be capable of violence.

I believe the book "The Sociopath Next Door" says one in 25 people are a sociopath and suggests the best way to avoid one that was previously in your life, is to ignore them. The author counsels not to try and spar with them because you cannot reason with a sociopath.

On April 6th, when we closed on our house, the realtor asked me if I needed to be in a separate room from vileman. I assured her I would be okay and I sat next to him. I was very civil and made small talk with our realtor and on occasion with vileman. At one point he had to excuse himself from the table because he had started crying. I chose to ignore his tears. Afterwards when I was getting in my car, he pulled me toward him for a very uncomfortable, awkward and unwanted hug.

I used a pay-as-you go cell phone when I lived there. It was the best plan for me at that time because I never talked on my cell phone and only kept it for emergencies. I kept it going when I moved up here because my lawyer and realtor lived there and they wouldn't have to phone me long distance because my number was a local number for them. On the evening of April 7th, that cell phone rang and it was vileman. Just as casual as could be, he reminded me that "Rescue Me" was coming on that night. What the heck? The man had caused my family agonizing pain and he was calling me like nothing had happened. I said thank you and hung up.

The phone was immediately turned off and it will never be turned back on.

There was no reason to ever have contact with him after the house was sold and his wages were garnished for child support and paid through that system. Time to implement the ignoring him strategy.

I used to get 5 emails along with two typed letters via certified delivery every week. He also includes letters to the kids which I will never give to them. No contact means no contact. He provokes me in the letters, but I know it is just an attempt to get a reaction from me. Since ignoring him, the emails are showing up only once a week and the mailed letters have almost stopped (though I did receive one late last week).

The best way to deal with vileman's actions, is to remind myself that he feels no shame, no remorse, no love. He is a robot.

The emails and letters he sends I read with my eyes wide open, telling myself he is a psychopath/sociopath ped-o-vile. I'm like an English teacher grading a student's paper. I take out my red pen and break down the letters, circling key phrases and writing out beside them what his intent really is.

Right now he is accusing me of alienating my children from him. He will cite that he was their primary caretaker (what!) and that they are being deprived a loving father. (A loving father who left his family penniless for 45 days and when he found a new job making $120,000/year, refused to pay child support for four months so that he could, instead, pay for his criminal lawyer.)

What I'm doing is called protecting. And I have the power of a divorce decree which outlines that he has no access or possession to those sweet babies.

Speaking of those sweet babies, they are doing beautifully. The boy even mentioned how relaxed his baseball games were without vileman coaching him from the bleachers through out the entire game.

Who knew losing 185 pounds of vileness would feel and look so good.

Welcome to Oz!

2009-06-22T19:40:00.004-05:00

Maybe a better title would be First Comes Denial then (if you are lucky) Comprehension.

Do you think the Scarecrow and the Tinman were sociopaths?

Switching movie genres, do you remember that scene in the movie Sixth Sense where Bruce Willis realizes the little boy can see dead people and Bruce's character quickly goes through all the past events and realizes that he (Bruce) ***spoiler alert*** . . . . is . . . (gulp) . . . dead?

That is exactly what happened to me after I finished reading the book "Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us" and realized that vileman fit most of the characteristics to a T.*

All of vileman's questionable behaviors through the years, played out in fast motion in my brain . . . and I finally knew what he was.

To back up a bit, over the course of the first month in counseling, the Healer begin to refer to vileman as anti-social. Then it was suggested, gently, that he exhibited sociopath/psychopath characteristics based on some of the events I told her about. I never could grasp that he was a psychopath/sociopath. I didn't want to believe that someone I was with for 13 years could have no remorse and be heartless. Also, I was thinking more on the lines of him being a sick ped-0 -vile. Seems I hit the jackpot - I got the psycho ped-o-vile.

The Healer recommended I read the above mentioned book and after leaving her office that morning, I headed to B&N to purchase the book. I didn't read it right away because I was still in that denial phase but after two weeks, I finally picked it up.

I was mesmerized and quickly found a highlighter to underline passages. At the next counseling session, I brought my highlighted copy of the book and sat down on the Healer's couch. The first words out of my mouth were "I should have known."

She assured me that when it is in your face all the time, you can't see it, as in "you can't see the trees for the forest."

The Healer went over all the characteristics highlighted in the book, then I would give an example. I won't bore you with the characteristics but instead, will tell you about an event that occurred early on in our relationship. After reading this you are going to think "girl, you are stupid"!

I had a very high tolerance of putting up with his behavior. He could do something so rude or unfeeling, and I would think to myself "what is wrong with him?" For many years, I thought I had settled for someone like him, but the truth is, he chose me.

Once, long ago, I was about six weeks pregnant when I begin to spot. It was on a Saturday morning, so vileman took me to the emergency room. After the doctor examined me, he said I was still pregnant but probably was going to miscarry and needed to go home, relax and get off my feet. When we were leaving the ER, vileman asked me if I wanted to go eat at Olive Garden. I looked at him like he was crazy. Did he not hear the doctor tell me to go home and lie down? When I reminded him and suggested that maybe he could place a to-go order from there he replied in a whiny voice "but then I can't get refills on the salad or get extra breadsticks". (Inside my brain: What is wrong with him!?)

The next morning, I woke up with horrible cramping. I asked vileman to please call my OB/GYN. Instead of acknowledging me, he asked me to give him a B J. (Yep, you read that right.) I remember being shocked and yelling at him that I was having a miscarriage and he wanted me to perform a s** act!?! (Inside my brain: What is wrong with him!?)

Later that night, since I had ruined his weekend - no Olive Garden and no BJ, he decided that he was the true victim and begin crying and boo hooing about the miscarriage as if he were the one experiencing it.

I should have walked out the door and never looked back.

But I didn't.

Girl, you stooooopid!

I didn't, because I probably thought I could fix him. And vileman needed me, so he could mimic my emotions, since he was/is incapable of feeling any.

Unlike the scarecrow and the tinman, you can't fix a sociopath/psychopath. No great wizard can give vileman a conscious and a heart.

And when I finally understood what kind of person I had been dealing with, the light bulb went on. Acceptance of what vileman is and will always be has kept me sane and strong for the last few months . . . as I deal with his wrath toward me via emails and letters. . . my next post will be how I have been dealing with him since we closed on our house in April.

*Vileman has never been personally interviewed and given the Psychopath Checklist by a forensic psychiatrist. I just choose to believe he is one.

One Sliver of Pie at a Time, Lady

2009-06-16T12:42:00.004-05:00

One scary thought running through my brain recently, has been this:

I went through a life-altering, stress filled year and I only managed to LOSE LESS THAN 15 POUNDS!!!!!!!!

Not only that, half of those pounds have crept back on, thanks to giddiness. Grrr.

So, back to doing what worked in the past:

Eat healthier (the Dash diet worked when I lost 30 pounds in the past)
Smaller portions
Drink at least 8 glasses of water each day
Keep a food journal
Take vitamins
Walk at least 5 times a week
Weight training 3 times a week
Yoga
Meditation - quiet time
Setting goals
Weekly weigh-in

Put all the above into a pie chart with each representing a slice of pie. Some slices might be cut into slivers, for instance: Eat healthier would include only lean protein, high fiber, 8 to 10 vegetables per day, whole grains only, etc.

In the past, I tried to consume the whole pie on day one, which only set me up to fail. Now that I'm older and wiser, I have portioned out a few slivers for this week and when those are mastered, I will add a few more slivers.

Goals (slivers) for this week:

Writing down everything I eat in a notebook (no calorie counting)
Walk at least 3 times
Drink 4 glasses of water per day
Take my vitamins

In two days, I have already identified a bad habit - eating 6 year old's leftovers (by the way, 5 year old is now 6). I am not a human garbage disposal and I wasn't aware I was doing this until I started writing it down.

In the meantime, I have been re-reading my favorite diet books - not for a diet plan - but for tips and reading all your blogs for motivation.

Have a great day.

S-U-M-M-E-R!

2009-05-31T14:08:00.005-05:00

Wow, the kids and I made it through the school year. Hip, hip hooray!

Last day of school was on Friday and as I watched 12 year old walk across the stage to receive a certificate for being on the honor roll for the entire school year, I was so proud of him for accepting the unexpected.

It wasn't easy at first. I remember the first day of school, he looked so awkward and self-conscious as I dropped him off. (He still looks awkward and self-conscious but so did all the other kids walking across the stage.) Twelve must be the most awkward age!

12 year old had a hard time leaving behind the old life and old friends. Several times a week he would ask if he could call some of his friends from our old life and though I would give in, the old life friends would never reciprocate the call. In other words, none of his old friends ever called him.

I started telling him "no" when he asked to call someone back there and would tell him to "call some new friends here, instead."

It's been almost three months since he has asked to call anyone from there and he enjoys texting here friends.

Not that I don't subscribe to "make new friends and keep those old" but I didn't want the boy to hear any gossip about his father (12 year old knows the truth).

Anyway, once baseball started, I think he begin to feel at home. Though he doesn't play catcher here (this team has several boys who also play on a select team, so their skills are a bit more advanced) he says he still enjoys playing. They will continue to play until the end of June. Karate goes year-round.

12 year old says he enjoyed the school year and all the field trips. (Back there, the kids got one field trip.) Two weeks ago, they went to the big city about 90 miles away to a restaurant that had knights fighting each other (didn't want to say the name) and the school chartered nice, air-conditioned buses to take the kids. This field trip was postponed because of the swine flu so I was very happy that they finally did get to go. His principal is a micro-manager, but he did plan a lot of fun things for the kids through-out the school year.

5 year old had a great year too and is currently reading on a third grade reading level. I don't think I knew how to read until I was 7. She played soccer in the spring and still has two more T-ball games left to play. Her dance recital was last night and I am ready for her activities to end!

I need a break.

I hope to be a better blogger now that my schedule will ease up a bit for a little while. I'm more of a reader/lurker than I am a writer these days.

Checking In

2009-05-14T12:00:00.007-05:00

I got nothing new to report, just have been so busy with after-school activities and illness. When I do get on the internet I have been trying to read all of your blogs instead of blogging. I'm on dial-up and it is so slow that once I have read a few blogs, I have to either go pick-up children from school, or leave to take a child to a practice, dance class, or baseball/t-ball game.

Five year old had the coughing virus a couple of weeks ago that lasted for 10 days, then last week she threw-up around 11:30 pm and didn't stop dry heaving for 12 hours. She wouldn't try Helen's honey remedy and the promethazine gel (from an earlier pukey virus) didn't help. I NEVER want to see orzo pasta again. Ever. Never. Never. Never. Ever again!

I have been following the criminal trial court docket (vileman) and for the last two months his case was number 53 on the docket but I noticed on Tuesday, that it had been continued by agreement (CBA). Which tells me, they (the police/DA) have a good case against him and his lawyer is delaying the trial to keep him out of jail. Anybody out there really know what/why the defense attorney and the district attorney agree to delay a case?

The kids and I benefit (as long as he is still working) by collecting another month's of child support. Also, the vileman still owes me $$$$ on back child support payments and reimbursement of attorney fees. He owes about 50% of the note (I received all of his 43% portion of the equity in the house) and per the divorce decree those payments start in June.

Oops! Accidentally hit the publish button - Grrr.

School will be over with at the end of the month (Yippie) and I'm so happy that I was able to stay at home this past year, despite everything that has happened. But it is time for me to really (seriously, really) look for a job before vileman is shipped off to jail.

I have two posts running in my head and know I need to get them out here so I can "let go". One of them is about finding out vileman is probably a psychopath (I use the word probably, because he hasn't been interviewed and labeled that based on an evaluation. That is the word along with 'anti-social' that the healer has used in our sessions to describe him). I don't know why I can't sit down at the computer and write it out, but for some reason I would rather put it off. Hmmm.

Anyway, off to eat lunch. Have a great weekend.

Feeling Artsy Fartsy - Recession Style

2009-04-25T11:53:00.003-05:00

This week I had a burst of artiness.

While cleaning out the girl's closet, putting away winter clothes and making room for the nice new spring wardrobe we had bought at Kohls, J.C. Penny's, Macy's and Target, I noticed most of her jeans had holes in the knees. Earlier in the year, I had patched a few of them with cute little iron on patches but since then, she had a wee growth spurt and some of those jeans were now highwaters.

The jeans still fit in the waist, so I cut the lower leg part off , hemmed or cuffed them to make shorts. (In my day, we just cut them off and washed them several times for the oh so cool "cut-offs" but I guess today that would be considered trashy.)

After a quick jaunt to Wally's where I picked up cute appliques, cute buttons and little sparkly diamond-like iron-on jewels, I proceeded to go through all her clothes that were too short, had holes in the knees and shirts with small stains on them.

A pair of very long jeans were cuffed (a large cuff) using iron-on hem tape, making them capri-length jeans. She had worn holes in the knee, so I patched them with "princess" style (not the Disney princesses, just the word "princess") appliques, pink and yellow flower appliques, and added pink beaded fringe to the bottom of the cuff.

Those jeans look so cute, if I say so myself.

A black tee shirt was revived with a large skull bones applique finished off with a nice sparkly, diamond grill/braces on his teeth. It was paired with "new" blue jean shorts which now have smaller skull bone appliques on their pockets. This is the girls favorite "new" outfit - she wore it today. It will have to be a weekend outfit because her school will not allow "skulls" on clothing.

One turquoise tee shirt that had small grease spots on it (my kids . . . even though they are given napkins, somehow little greasy fingers are still wiped on their clothes) became a one-of-a kind crystal design with a colorful butter fly applique and butter fly buttons sewed on strategically hiding any of the small spots. I added the same butterfly applique to a pair of her white shorts to make a set.

I did this all day Thursday and most of Friday morning. I matched shirts with other shorts/newly made shorts from jeans and was able to make six "new" short/tee shirt sets, three capri-length jeans and an extra two fancy tee shirts out of her out-grown in length pants, holey or slightly stained clothing.

Wished I would have done this before going to Kohls, J.C. Penny's, Macy's and Target.

Redistributing the Eggs in the Carton

2009-04-20T11:18:00.003-05:00

I know some of you have probably heard of the egg-carton analogy:

In my carton there are three eggs. Two huge ostrich eggs and a small little robbin egg.

Think of the egg carton as a teeter-tauter/see-saw, with the two ostrich eggs taking up most of the carton on the right hand side leaving a little room on the left, which is empty and slightly lifted up in the air. The little robbin egg has slipped out of it's slot and is nestled up against the ostrich eggs, safe from falling out of the carton.

Obviously, the weight of the carton is not balanced.

The 12 year old and the 5 year old represent the ostrich eggs.

Over the past nine months, I have put all my energy into my two beautiful, broken hearted children, ignoring most of my own needs. I have held, hugged, reassured, soothed and wiped many tears from 12 y/o and 5 y/o but have never shed a tear for myself. The few tears that were blinked out were for others.

I needed a cleansing "woe is me" cry, yet for some reason, I refused to allow myself to cry. It's too late now and best of all, I currently do not feel like crying.

Leaving that city on the day that vileman was arrested was the best decision I made besides not bailing him out of jail (I am so proud of the way I handled his call from jail and so thankful I didn't rush to his aid). Had I not fled and instead, stayed in our home; I would have boarded up the house to keep vileman away then retreated to the bedroom, where I would have pulled the covers over my head and stayed there. Not leaving would have prevented us from moving forward and healing.

When we moved in with my parents, they were not going to allow me to wallow in despair. My priorities were the children. Their needs and my counseling sessions with the Healer have kept me from going coo-coo. Unfortunately, I completely threw all my time and energy into their activities, losing myself along the way.

Those two big ostrich eggs saved the little robbin egg from falling out of the egg carton but it's time to redistribute for balance.

The first egg to be placed on the left side will represent diet and exercise. I'm ready to focus on this part of my life and feel I'm going to be successful. No empty promises to myself this time. I already feel lighter thanks to a divorce and getting rid of the house and though I still maintain the original 15 pound weight loss since June 25th, it isn't significant enough to be noticeable in my clothes, face, butt and stomach. I have a plan that I started implementing last week and will talk about in a future post.

Second egg in my carton will be the need to focus on my mental health. I was seeing the Healer once a week up until my divorce in January. I quit going because I no longer had good insurance after the divorce that would allow me to go with just payment of my co-pay. To pay out of pocket would have been unaffordable. Also, the 5 year old "graduated" from counseling in December so I just assumed I had "graduated" too.

I heard from the Healer in February and she asked if I would be willing to come back and see her. She offered to see me on a pro-bono basis for four weeks. After those four weeks were up, she extended it for another four weeks . . . (how f*cked up am I?!).

Truth is, I love counseling and walk out of her office feeling lifted and empowered.

So for now, I plan to focus time on those two new eggs along with my children. With time, the carton will eventually fill up with more and more eggs representing other areas of my life; all equally distributed.

And as I redistribute my time, emotions and energy from fully focusing on my children, their ostrich size eggs will return to"normal" healthy sized eggs. This should help them progress on and no longer feel the responsibility of keeping mommy happy, fulfilled, and busy.

When the Fog Lifts . . . It's Amazing How Clear Everything Is

2009-04-14T12:47:00.004-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, in a session with the Healer, I tentatively mentioned a dream I had the night before. Tentatively, because I was afraid of dream analysis and didn't want to hear something like "how long have you been harboring those latent ***insert something horrific or embarrassing*** tendencies?"

Anyway, the dream had me swimming in a huge pool, which happened to be in the middle of my house. I was so happy, swimming by myself. Then vileman came home from work and stood alongside the pool. The temperature in the pool got colder and any joy I felt quickly turned to anxiety. Worse of all, vileman jumped into the pool and tried to swim with me. I refused to turn my back on him, because I didn't trust him and was afraid he was going to try and drown me.

Okay, settle down and quit laughing.

I know what you are thinking and the Healer told me it wasn't a s*xual or m*sterbation dream. Instead it was a very illuminating summary of my life with vileman.

***

It has been very hard for me to want to post lately. Yet, I have so many thoughts that need to be put out here and then let go of. So here goes . . .

I had no tangible proof.

Gut instinct and a few hints of odd behavior told me something wasn't right.

My first suspicions occurred around late August 2004. We were in the process of moving to another city and were a few days away from closing on the house we had sold. There were men in and out of the house: repair men and inspectors.

I got the call from a woman who said someone from our phone number (a land line) had called her daughter's cell phone. I told her it couldn't have been anyone here because my son was only seven and didn't use the phone. Vileman was standing next to me and it is so clear now how sheepish he looked. The woman on the phone seemed very concerned about her daughter receiving a call from our number and I explained that we were moving and had many people in and out of the house, and that perhaps maybe one of them had used our phone and accidentally called her daughter's cell phone number. She wasn't buying that.

After she hung up and the vileman left the room, something told me to call her back and ask how old her daughter was. The lady refused to answer any of my questions and was uncooperative. She probably was just as scared as I was to know the truth.

I knew at that moment that I might be married to a vile person and would have to wait it out and be on guard until I had enough evidence to leave him.

Over the last six months, I have acknowledged and understand that the kids and I provided a family-man cover for him. We were, in Hollywood terms, his beard.

Grooming.

People like vileman are expert groomers.

At one of my son's ballgames, I watched from the bleachers as vileman went into the dugout and one by one touched each player on the shoulder, bent low to their ears and said something to them. It gave me the creeps. He wasn't their coach nor the assistant coach and really had no business being the in the dugout.

When we got home I told him I thought it was very inappropriate for him to do that. The verbal abuse was spewed at me "you are so paranoid!" "How could you think those awful thoughts about me!?!" "You are the sick one to think those things!" "You need to get a life because you are going crazy!" and so on and so on.

A couple of years later, I found out from the Healer that what I had witnessed was vileman practicing his grooming techniques.

*Grooming is the gradual process of invading a person's physical space, emotional space and intelligence. The groomer uses a selection process and desensitises the victim with more and more intrusive behavior. (*The Healer's definition - I was taking notes that day.)

My suspicions went into hyper-alert with my own children (they are fine by the way - my son swears he was never touched. I may never know the truth . . . did he or didn't he . . . but they both are in good mental and physical shape right now) and I hated to have kids play over because I had to be watchful. Remember, I had no proof that he was vile . . . but I couldn't let my guard down.

The first few weeks after I had a noticeable weight loss, vileman paid a little more attention to me, which made me, want to gain my weight back. The attention didn't last long and by December of 2006, he had lost all interest in me. Vileman never touched me again.

The last few months, he was spiraling out of control, he would call me with weird stories about why he wouldn't be home from work on time. I knew he was cheating on me and per the discovery from my lawyer, I was right. Vileman had begun to participate in dangerous and anonymous s*xual encounters. He admitted to having several hook-ups with couples but did not know their real names or remember where they lived.

My assumption is that he semi-told the truth to avoid perjuring himself, had our divorce went to trial. I know that there had to be a lot more "hook-ups" than he admitted. But I digress back to the true vileness.

I knew he was lying to me and I just couldn't stand sleeping next to him at night. I once had a nightmare of him rolling the area rug in the family room around my bludgeoned body.

I found myself sleeping in the family room on the couch or on the futon in the spare bedroom. (I took neither of these items with me during my move.)

Over the last few years, I doubt I ever got more than six hours of sleep and that would have been a good nights rest. My average was probably less than four hours.

Vileman had a bad habit of calling people that I knew (I usually found out later) and I would have to hold back on telling him about any new friends or people I had met. For example years ago when I worked, I found out that my boss was having a fling with another co-worker at work and mentioned it to vileman. He called both of them (I found out months and months later). And there is no telling how many of my friends he called over the years behind my back. It dawned on me recently that he did that to keep me from developing any outside friendships, which would make me depend on him more and make it harder for me to want to leave him . . . there's that fog lifting thing again.

I survived. My children survived.

You might read this and think why did you stay married to him? I had to. It assured me that the children were safe with me in the house. Had we divorced before he got caught, he would have gotten joint custody of the kids. I am at peace that I made the right decision to stay in that marriage and wait it out.

It is sad for my children that he may go to prison, but they don't need a man like him in their life. Nor does the public need another vile person on the streets.

I have more to write about vileman: his psychopath attributes and seeing him for (I hope) the last time. I promise they will not be novella length.

Saying Goodbye to all the Old Hiding and Numbing Places

2009-04-07T13:31:00.002-05:00

On Sunday night, I sat in my hotel room, located between two places where I ran up credit card debt of several thousand dollars over the time frame beginning around the fall of 2006 and abruptly ending mid June, 2008. Super Target is a hop, skip and a jump north and the mall is several hundred feet south of me.

Good bye old, destructive friends.

Actually, I said a semi-goodbye to "non-necessity" spending last June. For old times sake, I stopped at the Super Target before checking into my hotel room. I splurged on Method household cleaning products and picked up some Italian soda to bring back for the kids. (We don't have a Super Target at home.)

I was back in town (from the previous life) to close on my house Monday morning. Eight months after being on the market, it finally found a buyer. I am so relieved that I will not be saddled with a mortgage if and when the vileman goes to prison.

His portion of the equity will not fully pay off the $$$$ owed me for back child support and lawyer fees, but it is about a 40% start. My very good lawyer put a lien on the house payable to me since vileman's payments for legal reimbursement would not start until August 2009 . . . and I knew I would never see any money.

As I tried to watch Celebrity Apprentice (my guilty pleasure) I thought about all the ways I coped while living with vileman and how I have managed to say goodbye to both the destructive and non-destructive habits.

The mommie juice.
It was on its way to becoming a problem. I wrote one of you saying, that my tolerance was getting higher and higher of the cheap red wine and two glasses a night was not enough to give me that numb feeling. My solution to the problem was to get bigger red wine glasses. One glass probably held 16 ounces! When vileman walked through that door every day at 5:15 pm, I headed straight for the wine box. It was my unhealthy coping mechanism.

Once I was out of that environment, I noticed I didn't think about the mommie juice nor did I need the mommie juice any longer. In fact, it should have been renamed "vileman elixir".

The super-sized wine goblets went to one of the day-laborers who I hired to help me load my u-haul moving truck.

The Treadmill
When I was in a get fit mood, I would avoid vileman by walking on the treadmill after he got home from work. I made sure dinner was on the table for my family and instead of eating with them, I would disappear into the spare bedroom with my iPod and walk and walk and walk. Never walking anywhere, just walking in the same place. Stuck. I chose not to take the treadmill with me and vileman either kept it or gave it away. Either way, I don't care.

The Shopping
November of 2006 showed a weight-loss of 32 pounds. I had cut out salty foods, alcohol, snacking and sweets, adhering to the Dash diet. I was moving my body and not sitting in front of the television. As the numbers on the scale and blood pressure machine lowered, my credit card balance went up. The girl and I went went shopping twice a month. The stuff I bought wasn't hoarded and left in shopping bags. It was almost all used (except for most of my stuff) and everyone in the family benefited. A little too much.

Two weeks ago, I went through all my workout clothes, many still had tags on them (hey, at least they were out of the bags!). It was crazy going through all the yoga pants and tops! I was able to give my older sister some of the tanks but I still had way too many. Too many tee's that are too tight. Too many shorts. Too many workout bras. Too many.

A big portion went to Goodwill.
***

Monday morning, before heading to the title company, I walked through the empty house for the last time and said goodbye to that fancy faux prison and all my old hiding places.

The Pantry
Though I worked out at the Y several times a week and walked on the treadmill at night, I still managed to stand in the pantry and consume hundreds of calories during the day; it usually started around 1:30 with a little handful of this or that and lasted until 4:30 in the afternoon. I can visualize me eating a handful of something then closing the pantry door, returning quickly for another dose of numbing. A revolving door would have made it perfect.

The Master Bathroom.
That house had an awesome master bath! Huge bathtub where I spent many hours soaking in that tub at night, avoiding vileman. On the nights that I walked on the treadmill, I would retreat to my bedroom afterwards and close the door, turn on the TV and put a facial mask on for 20 minutes before showering. I could easily spend an additional hour in there, putting off any face time with vileman.

When I walked down the hallway to the back bedrooms to say goodbye to the small fourth bedroom that had housed my treadmill, a stench reminiscent of an overflowing port-o-potty on a hot August day permeated the air. Seems someone had taken a poop in the half bath several days earlier and failed to flush the commode.

It reeked.

It stunk.

It couldn't have been a more perfect ending in closing this chapter of my life.

Battered and Bruised

2009-03-30T09:54:00.002-05:00

But in a good way.

My dad and I headed south to my old house Thursday morning; rented a U-Haul truck and moved all my furniture back here on Friday afternoon. I put all of it in a storage unit.

I got rid of another van load of give-away stuff. I figured if I hadn't needed it over the past nine months, I could live without it.

Yippie!

I have one more milestone to pass and that date will occur hopefully on April 6th.

Yippie!

A busy Monday awaits and will have to write more later.

Have a super great day!

Just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in

2009-03-23T11:42:00.001-05:00

Been very active around here with no relief in sight as this week starts the really,really busy season of after-school sports. Friday is the only day off with no activities other than their school. I can't wait to finally say T.G.I.F!

Early last week, I sunk to a new low when I sparred with vileman via email. You can not reason with a psychopath.

For nine months I would ignore all the emails he would send; gaining strength each time I opened one, read it and walked away without replying. Ignoring his emails and not letting the contents of the email upset me was the true test of control.

Unfortunately, I lost that control and hit the send button on a snarky reply. Though I regret my email, it isn't because I felt guilty about telling vileman what I think of him; I regret that he knows he finally got to me. Aarrgh!

I'm stronger than that! So, I am back to reading, letting it roll off my back and duck waddling away from the computer.

Summer/Winter Break with Steak

2009-03-12T00:45:00.002-05:00

This is spring break week but you would never guess it. No spring like weather here. The first half of the week was in the mid 80's and yesterday a cold front came through bringing rain, rain and more rain.

After taking 5 year old to the after-hours clinic on Sunday afternoon (she has a cold with cough), the 12 year old and I headed to the old house. Vileman was working out-of-town until Wednesday, so the 12 year old and I stayed until Tuesday afternoon packing up all our items for storage.

We arrived Sunday night at 8:30 and I immediately went to work while the boy watched television. I was so pumped about packing, that I didn't stop until 4:00 am.

By Tuesday, almost everything was boxed and labeled. I didn't have time to get to the stuff in the garage, nor go through all the Christmas decorations, but it will just have to wait until the next opportunity, probably when I go back at the end of the month with a U-haul truck to pick up everything for storage.

Tuesday before lunch, 12 and I loaded up the mini-van (thank goodness for stow and go seats) with all the donated stuff to drop off at Purple Heart. We had a van full and it felt so good to just donate that stuff and not try to have a garage sale.

After our lunch, we loaded up the van with a few items to take home with us. When packing up the cooler with some water, I peeked in vileman's freezer (technically my refrigerator/freezer) and saw he had two, thick T-bone steaks. Mmmm. 12 year old loves steak.

I threw them in the cooler and left a note in the freezer for vileman saying "thanks for the steaks".

The 12 year old and I thought that was so funny.

Rambling Nonsense

2009-03-07T19:06:00.004-06:00

It has been a whirlwind, non-stop week and I am so glad it is over. I know 12 year old is glad it is over. He had to get up extra early all week and didn't get to sleep in this morning because his sister had a soccer game.

He showed his goat at the county FFA show on Thursday and the smell of chicken poop, rabbit poop, pig poop, lamb poop, goat poop and steer poop still lingers in my nose . . . and on the bottom of my crocs.

Currently, the 5 year old is watching Hannah Montana, while I am on the computer. Why do I find myself paying more attention to the TV than to the computer? I have never actually watched the show, yet I can't stop sneaking peeks at it. That Billy Ray Cyrus had some of the worst hair when he had his achy-breaky heart but his hair looks pretty cool now.

I'm hoping 5 year old isn't getting too sick, as she is running a fever today. There is nothing like spending 4 to 6 hours at the after-hours clinic on a Sunday afternoon. I just hate sitting in the waiting room with all those sick people who didn't get the flu shot. (We did.)

Can't stop watching the TV.

I don't seem to have the desire to write today so I will end this rambling nonsense and try again tomorrow.

Hope you all are having a great weekend.

Darn You Big Red!

2009-03-02T20:21:00.001-06:00

When vileman travels out of state, I always see it as an opportunity to get some of our belongings. This weekend he was traveling, so on Sunday morning, the 12 year old and I drove back to the Bastille to pick up some items we will be needing in the near future and to pack up 12 year old's room. We headed out at 5:45 am and arrived around 9:30. The boy immediately headed back to his old room and started gathering up his trophies, books and posters.

The last time he went back to the old digs was in late July and he refused to go into the house. My heart ached, as I watched him get out of the car and run through the yard, to visit the next door neighbors. He never once glanced toward the house.

I suppose time really does heal.

About an hour after we had arrived, my swimming buddy, her hubby and the Irish twins showed up and with in a few minutes the next door neighbors (the former model and her very tall husband) knocked on the door.

The grown-ups sat in the family room talking "grown-up" talk while the 12 year old, the Irish twins, and the next door neighbor boy all played in the front yard.

We talked a bit about vileman and his troubles, keeping it light with gallows humor.

It felt so good to laugh.

After loading up my minivan, the 12 year old and I headed over to swimming buddy's house to eat sandwiches. For a beverage, I chose a can of Big Red . . . not thinking it would have any caffeine in it. I wanted the sugar for a quick pick-me up before we got back in the car for the almost four hour drive. After slurping it down, I looked at the can and noticed it did, indeed contain caffeine.

Arrgh!

Had I known I was going to accidentally "cheat" on my caffeine freedom, I would have preferred to accidentally pull into a Starbucks and accidentally order a venti of caffeine goodness.

Day 5 Freedom* from Caffeine

2009-02-27T11:10:00.001-06:00

Very minor headache today. I suspect next week will be soooooo much better.

On the plus side, I have upped my water consumption which really means I went from drinking a swig of water per day to take my synthroid pill to drinking about 48 ounces (maybe more) a day.

We have FFA shows coming up this weekend and next week. The 12 year old is showing his goat, which will be sold next Friday (hopefully). Sadly, that left the 5 year old's goat, Fat Nannie, all alone in the goat pen and she cried all day yesterday.

Oh, and the 12 year old has offered to "train" me with my workout but says before we start, he needs a whistle, stopwatch, megaphone and . . . a cattle prod.

*See Hanlie's post.

Day 3 of Caffeine Deprivation

2009-02-25T13:25:00.002-06:00

Other then the shaky hands, sweats, shivers, diarrhea, runny nose, bad-ass headache and visions of Jesus, I'm doing swell.

Can't wait until tomorrow.

Coffee

2009-02-24T08:43:00.002-06:00

I've gone cold-turkey on caffeine (mostly coffee).

Woke up this morning at 4:22 and my head felt like it was going to explode . . . (grits teeth) I can do this.

I chose to quit coffee because that is all I drink. Coffee in the morning, coffee again in the late morning and coffee at 2:00 pm!

It had become a problem.

I cannot wean myself off the stuff, so it is best to just go cold-turkey.

I feel like shit and it is only day two! I know from past experience it gets worse as the week goes on.

I'll be white knuckling it.

Give the Best Years of Your Life to You

2009-02-19T21:26:00.004-06:00

"I gave that bastard the best years of my life!" cries the over-weight, middle aged lady's reflection, while she is examining her facial creases. She puckers her lips and shakes her head at the amount of lines framing her upper lip. She had (erroneously) assumed only smokers would have that problem. She holds up her eyebrows for a makeshift eyebrow lift but that just produces deeper wrinkles on her forward. She stops and stares, then reaches both hands toward her hair line, pushing the forehead back and sees that the eyes get a bit of a lift. She thinks, "Oooh. That's nice. I may look like I'm startled but at least my forehead is much smoother."

As I walked away from the mirror wondering when this new found 'vainness' showed up, I asked myself, did I really give that bastard the best years of my life? Or were my roaring twenties the best years?

Was my life so perfect in my 20's?

Sure, I weighed around 110 pounds but my diet consisted of margaritas, tequila shots, and tequila slammers. Dinner would have been a wedge of lime.

I worked full-time during the day and attended college part-time at night. I lived paycheck to paycheck and lived to P.A.R.T.Y! My schedule looked like this: Monday night: (college classes) Tuesday night (nothing), Wednesday night (college classes), Thursday night (happy hour), Friday night (happy hour), Saturday night (club hopping) and Sunday (hangover recoop day . . . which always meant a little "hair of the dog"). This schedule would be repeated every week.

So I'm gonna say my early 20's to mid 20's were not my best years. Fun maybe, but not the best.

My late 20's had me moving to another state to attend college full-time. Looking back, I don't think those three years would be considered my best either. Mainly because I was waiting for my life to happen instead of making my life happen.

I met the vileman around 30 and though we spent a little more than a year apart from late 2001 to early 2003, during that time, he was always "present" (if that makes sense). In other words, I was unable to get rid of him back then.

I think my self-esteem took a dive off a cliff in 1995 and sunk like the Titanic.

My 30's and early 40's had me caring for others, yet ignoring my own needs. I worked but it was a job, not a 'career' and I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. I thought if I became a stay-at-home mom, I would have time to lose all the weight . . . I only gained more. My wardrobe as a stay-at-home-mom wasn't cute like I had envisioned. It consisted of shorts, tee shirts from Walmart and flipflops. Instead of getting more sleep, I got less. But biggest mistake of all, I quit living and experiencing things, using the excuse "I'm too fat" to meet new people, go to church, go to office parties, and so on.

The truth is, I haven't given anyone or myself the best years of my life.

The best years of my life are happening now. I'm happier, older, wiser . . . ahem; my drowned self-esteem has been resuscitated. I'm in rebuilding mode.

When you rebuild, you make it stronger and better.

And what about those wrinkles?

For now, I'm going to call them life lessons . . . I may have lost my way over the past 25 years but I know I'm now on the right path.

Thanks For Calling

2009-02-17T10:42:00.006-06:00

***This is one of those Grrr (and not the good "grr") post. Feel free to ignore.***

Sunday night, I was caught off guard when my dad told me my ex-mother-in-law was on the phone and wanted to speak to her grandchildren.

Just to back up a wee bit, the vileman's parents have never wanted anything to do with me or my children. They had already done "grandparent time" as most of their grandchildren were teenagers and adults by the time my oldest child was born. Vileman comes from a very weird family and if you didn't travel down his mom's birth canal, you were shit to her.

I have spent many occasions being pushed out of family pictures - only vileman, his six siblings and parents were needed. At our first wedding in Las Vegas, there were 32 relatives in attendance and I wanted a picture of all of us. His mother said no, just the "kids" (her kids at that time, ranged in ages from 34 to 48). I asked another out-law (a brother-in-law married to one of the kids) why the spouses couldn't be in the picture and he told me to "get used to it."

It only got weirder as the years past. I could write volumes of atrocities performed by vileman's family.

At this point, I would like to say that just because someone is currently 81 years old and in fine health; she can still be a BITCH. That's right, a full-fledged, all caps BITCH.

Vileman has a dad too but he is spineless.

So Sunday's call was unexpected.

It was unexpected because it was the first time she tried to contact "her grandchildren" since vileman got into trouble.

I had expected a call from her on the day he was arrested. In my weird make-believe everyone is nice way, I had hoped she would call and give some emotional support to the kids and I.

Day after day passed, and no one in his family telephoned to check up on us.

My kids were never close to their parental grandparents and in fact, after the 5 year old was born, no one in his family called or sent a congratulations card and two of his brothers lived in the same town as us at that time.

I was beginning to think they didn't like me. (HA!!!!)

Anyway, Sunday's call . . . I know Grandma 'B' was put up to calling the kids by vileman. Sunday would have been our anniversary (the second time we married) and I suspect he begged his mother into calling the kids to find out what they know.

I wasn't going to allow her to tell the children anything about their father and how much "he loves them". I also suspected vileman was conferenced into the call somehow (paranoia - great destroyer!). He is about 2500 miles away from his parents but I still think you can do a conference call without the third party knowing.

When I got on the phone, I told her that the 12 year old needed his grandparents' support on the day his dad was arrested. . . not eight months later.

The 12 year old wrote them off a long time ago. He is very smart and has always known we were outcasts on vileman's side of the family.

Her excuse for not calling on the 25th or 26th was "there was a lot going on that day". I guess eight months later she had a free moment.

Needless to say, she didn't get what she wanted. The months of counseling/therapy that my children have gone through cannot be destroyed by a phone call with Grandma 'B' telling them lies about vileman. And that is exactly how it would go . . . Grandma defending her son. She won't be calling back.

I guess I'm a bitch too. But I'm just a lowercase bitch.

I'll Be Clogging on Valentine's Day 2022

2009-02-15T16:29:00.005-06:00

A few weeks after my divorce was final, my older sister said something to me about being single again. I scoffed at that and told her I planned on staying single and wouldn't even think about dating until the 5 year old is in college. Should I survive that long, I will be 58 years old. I told the sister I would then take up clogging, since that seemed to be a great way to meet the old geezers.

Not to mention the cute little short dresses you get to wear.

But on a serious note, I have been told by 12 year old that I am "hyper-vigilant".

Well, duh.

His major complaint is that I watch his karate class because I don't trust the instructor.

He's right, I don't know or trust the instructor at this time, plus something about him gave me the creepy vibes. From now on I will trust my instincts and not suppress them.

During karate class, the parents sit on a bench in the studio where we are able to watch. So I'm not the only parent watching.

I'm just the only parent sending silent "don't touch my kid" vibes toward the Sensi. Ha.

I guess it's going to take some time . . . possibly until 2022.

Start at the Top and Work Inward

2009-02-11T00:21:00.002-06:00

As you can imagine, I haven't felt my "prettiest" over the past seven months.

I have neglected my appearance, my body, my health and my skin.

If you knew me three years ago and saw me today, especially after my great escape, you would ask yourself "my goodness what happened to her?".

Does she smoke a carton of cigarettes per day? No.

Is she drinking dark whiskey? No.

Stress is a bitch and will age you overnight. If you don't believe me, just look at pictures of the Presidents on their first day on the job, then compare them to pictures six months later.

Astonishing.

The most noticeable (to me anyway) is the area around my eyes. Dark circles and wrinkles that were not present last spring.

The last seven months, I had two things on my agenda . . . keep the kids away from vileman and the divorce. I was able to check those two things off my list over a month ago, and now it is time for some self-love/self-care.

Before you think of me as a whipped dog, I must be honest and tell you that I started getting over six hours of sleep in September. This occurred after a few therapy sessions and the relief of talking it out allowed me to relax a bit. Unfortunately, the insomnia returned a few weeks before the divorce hearing and I'm still not back to six or more hours. But, I think once I'm exercising on a regular basis and taking better care of myself, I'll be snoozing like Sleeping Beauty.

One natural mood enhancer that occurred, was I got a haircut in late October. And a good one. Infact, it is probably the best haircut/hairstyle that I have ever had and I've maintained the cut by getting it trimmed every five weeks. The almost 45 years of bad hair days, including my years as an infant and toddler have, hopefully, come to an end.

Time to stop eating crap. The reddish brown dog loves to eat crap. He likes kitty cat crap, horse crap, and his new favorite . . . goat crap. Reddish brown dog craps a lot too. Keeping him away from crap on a small farm isn't easy.

I'm no better than reddish brown dog when I end up eating half a family sized bag of Doritos, washed down with a diet pepsi. It's crap. It won't be easy, but I can have self-control to say no to crap snacks and instead eat healthier.

Last week I walked four times. Today is the first non-rain day, so I will be out walking after picking up the kids from school.

I purchased my favorite face creams, luxuries that I did without for many months and decided what the heck, they make me feel better. I also picked up a multi-vitamin and a large bottle of glucosamine for the joints.

The DVD player is set up in my bedroom with my favorite exercise DVD's handy along with a 10 pound set of weights.

So, I have a hairstyle that I like and can maintain, I bought my face cream and eye serum (though I think only surgery is the answer at this point). Vitamins and minerals will be consumed. Walking is happening.

Need for improvement: food choices and weight training.

Wish me luck!

Sunday's Version of AI

2009-02-08T16:52:00.005-06:00

The last time I attended church on a regular basis was when I was in high school and my family belonged to the neighborhood United Methodist church. That was 27 years ago.

I have been going to church since the end of October and may I just say . . . church sure has changed.

Back then, the only musical instrument was the organ, though at Christmas, the bells came out.

Today, there is an organist, pianist, guitarist, two violinists (old and young), a drummer and a bass saxophone player.

Back then, one hymn was sung before the sermon and one hymn after the sermon was over. Today, five hymns/songs are sung before the preacher says a word and a sixth song afterwards.

To be fair, I'm now attending a Baptist church and not a Methodist church, though my mom swears the Methodists do a lot of singing these days too.

I don't like singing.

I cannot hold a note nor can my mother. I know this, because we have sung many duets in the car while traveling. It is sad, what we can do to a beautiful hymn like "Amazing Grace."

I swear, 16 years ago, we were driving back to Oklahoma after visiting family in Dallas, just singing our songs like Naomi and Wynonna Judd. And as we drove past pasture after pasture, cows would look up at us in my tan Honda and tilt their heads, hearing our screeching. Horses too.

Every Sunday, at my church, there is a time reserved for "special music". I like to call it "karaoke" or "American Idol" time.

There have been some questionable solos and duets performed. I sit there in a Paula Abdul stupor, biting the inside of my cheeks and thinking of homeless puppies to try and prevent escaped giggles.

After each performance, I can't help but quote in my mind the same Randy and Simon lines: "that was a bit pitch-y" or "that was terrible".

I know. I know. They are praising God and I'm making fun. I'll have to answer to Peter at the gates, I guess. But I won't be the only one. . .

Three weeks ago, I watched, as the man in front of me, giggled quietly. His large body, shaking with uncontrolled fits while a lady attempted a song, with notes that she could no longer hit.

And last week, during the special music, the man behind me let a few laughs out . . . and he is a retired preacher with a PhD in theology. Of course, afterward he clapped the loudest and proclaimed "amen" after the man was finished with his solo. I wasn't sure the "amen" was for the singer's performance or that the singer's performance was over.

But today was different.

The special music was a mother and daughter duet. And not a young mother and daughter (they were probably around 60ish and 30ish). I quickly opened my bible where I have hidden a book that I read when I get bored. (I know. I know. I'll answer to Peter. . . but it is a religious book about financial armageddon.)

They said they were going to sing a-cappella.

Shit. (I know. I know.) Biting hard on inside of cheeks.

And they sang beautifully! They had an "Oh Brother Where Art Thou" Alison Krauss-ish style. And I got tears in my eyes. It was just beautiful!

Afterwards the whole congregation clapped widely for them and I whispered to my mom, "they got nothing on us".

A Swift Kick in the Bottom

2009-02-05T12:45:00.003-06:00

Last night, the local news station highlighted a family of five children up for adoption. The children were currently placed in two separate foster homes and were hoping to stay together. I think the oldest was eight.

When the news anchor was introducing the story, the 12 YO said "don't worry Brad and Angie will adopt them". But after the end of the story, 12 Y/O asked with a lump in his throat, if we could adopt them.

Sometimes I need moments like that to remind me how fortunate we are.

The police records keeper that I met at the temporary order hearing and then again at the divorce hearing (the lovely lady), told me that most of the women immediately forgive their husbands after they are arrested. They bail them out, making excuses that this was just a big misunderstanding. That is so sad and probably has a lot to do with the wife not having family or other options to turn to.

So Vickie, is right, we were very lucky to have my parents and my sisters (though I will tell you, it is hard to go back home as an adult with children . . . but that will have to be another post!).

I know things will begin to fall in place . . . I'll find a job, the house will be sold, and the kids and I will move into our own place.

Vileman, though he has a good job (and Laura, my family and I have all wondered how he managed to find such a lucrative job . . . crazy), his future isn't so bright. All he has to look forward to is a prison cell. And I have vowed (well, in my revengeful imagination) to go visit him after he has been there for a couple of weeks (if he lasts that long) . . . I visualize myself taking big deep breaths and sniffing with my eyes closed. I then let him know I was smelling freedom! Maybe I will dance a little freedom dance, then skip out the door. (Hey, I can daydream!)

The Hotel California Roller Coaster Ride

2009-02-04T09:45:00.007-06:00

Life over the past seven months has felt like a never ending roller coaster ride . . .

The day after vileman's arrest, I sat at my parents' kitchen table with a cup of coffee in my hand, thinking about our uncertain future. I knew vileman would lose his job, especially since he borrowed a company vehicle for his little jaunt, used the company computer for vileness and the nice detective had already telephoned his HR department to ask them to secure vileman's office.

I knew I was going to have to walk away from our house. My parents were distraught about the situation and kept telling me that was the wrong thing to do, that I should try and keep up with the mortgage. I was certain July's note would be paid, but who knew after that.

(Early July) This went on for days until I received a letter from vileman who was still in jail. He informed me that he was still on the payroll. Going up!

(Around July 8th) What he failed to inform me, was that he was indeed fired as of July 1st and that we lost our health insurance benefits. Going down!

Thankfully, on June 27th, I had purchased a six month, short-term health insurance policy on the kids and I, so we had no lapse in insurance. Going up!

The vileman was paid up to July 1st with no severance (ha ha ha) and no chance of getting unemployment benefits. Going down!

I drained the bank accounts and paid all bills due in July (including his credit cards) with money orders. Going Up!

I left enough money for him on July 15th to make sure that the mortgage would be paid in August. He spent the money on other things. Going down!

(Late July) We put the house on the market, with the realtor assuring me it was not priced too high and she could sell it within 10 days. Going up!

The mortgage bubble burst and we lowered the price two weeks later. Going down!

(August 6th) At the temporary order hearing, the judge ordered that vileman should have no contact with his children at this time. Going up! (By the way, the children last saw and spoke with their dad two days before he was arrested. Vileman called many times demanding to speak to his children: never was going to happen.)

(August 6th) He was ordered to pay $225/month child support based on an unemployed person. Going down!

(August 6th) The judge ordered early withdrawal of vileman's 401K balance (it wasn't anything to write home about) with me receiving 64% after taxes to live on as six months "spousal support" . . . Grrr. (Though it was good news, I knew 50% of his 401K would be rewarded to me after the divorce so I was a little peeved about them calling my 50% "spousal support".) Going up!

(First week in October) It would take 60 days before I would see any money. Going down!

The stock market begin to nose dive but his 401K was liquidated in August, so it didn't loose the 40% value that many people saw happen to their own investments. Going up!

(Late August) Vileman found another job making six figures (how nice, he got a big raise . . . she writes with sarcasm) and a fancy title (ohhh a promotion!). Still going up!

And we were immediately eligible for health, dental and vision insurance! Does it get any better than this. Up, up and away!

(September) He paid four weeks of child support based on his new salary then decided he couldn't "afford" to pay above and beyond the $225/month ordered at the temporary order hearing. What goes up, must come down! And it sounds like this SPLAT!

(October 2nd) Me: THAT MOTHER F*CKING, C*CK S*CKING, NARICISTIC, SON OF A BITCH, BASTARD!!!!!!

His insurance paid for the kids and I to go to therapy. Going up!

(Late October) Find out from our counselor, that vileman is a classic psychopath. Not serial killer psychopath but antisocial disorder psychopath. Read the book "Without Conscience" and realize he fits every description except he isn't mean to animals. Just the opposite, but than again, Tony Soprano was nicer to animals than humans. That is another post for another day. Going way down!

(Mid October) Decide to put the job search away for the time being and continue to be a stay-at-home mom because right now that's what the kids need. They need me to take them to school, pick them up from school, take them to counseling, take them to dance class and take them to karate. I feel good about this decision and live off the 401K distribution. Going up!

(Mid November) My lawyer (he's down there) tells me how much it will cost for him to come up here and diposition the kids' counselor. He says it will be cheaper for her to testify in court. Going down!

I tell the counselor and she says she will work with me to get down there to testify. Going up!

(Mid December) The counselor forgets she says she will work with me and wants $$$$ mucho money paid up front to go down to testify . . . it is almost three times more than what the lawyer was going to charge me for him to come up here and hire a court reporter. Going down!

(Late December and Early January) Win the following motions before our divorce trial is set to start: the detective and file must appear (the criminal DA tried to have it quashed/squashed), waived mediation (I was not about to pay a bunch of lawyers to argue over dishes and furniture), the counselor can testify over the phone. Going up!

(January 2nd) The vileman files a motion to have the children interviewed by the judge before our divorce trial. Going down!

(January 5th) Judge says she will decide after our trial. Going up!

(January 6th) The vileman settles and agrees (reluctantly) it is in the best interest of the children for him to not have access or possession of the children, agrees to pay me the back child support he owes, and reimburse me for all my lawyers fees ($12,000 it is very expensive to get rid of vile people but worth it). I'm soaring!

(January 14th) I get the bill from the counselor for file prep, court prep, standby and telephone conferences with my lawyer and his lawyer. Going down!

(January 15th) My lawyer says she is raking me over the coals and now I'm not feeling so warm and fuzzy over counselor . . . that will be another post. Still going down and now feeling a wee bit resentful!

(January 17th) Get a small check from lawyer of the remaining balance of the vileman's 401K after lawyer took out my final bill due him. It will barely cover the counselor's fees. A little up and a little down.

(January 26th) Time to start the great job search of 2009! I'm feeling good and ready. Going up!

(January 27th) The next day the media declares Monday as "Bloody Monday" with all the lay-offs. Going down!

I'm still waiting on my child support checks from January 15th and the 31st. The judge didn't sign our divorce decree until last week and the child support disbursement center wouldn't set up me until the decree was signed by the judge. I know I will be paid, but the redtape to set it up irks me. Going down!

I remind myself that my children are doing great and we are embarking on a new chapter with endless possibilities. Going up!

These Pretzels are Making Me Crazy

2009-02-02T18:59:00.000-06:00

If you recall from the old days, I loved pretzel rods. Yet, I couldn't eat just one serving, it was more like half a bag in one sitting. So I gave them up.

Until the fall of 2008.

Wally's makes a brand that is quite tasty and cheap. So I purchased a bag and a jug of Clamato juice.

Several times during the week around 9:00 pm, the 12 Y/O and I would go downstairs and watch television. Sunday night was "The Unit"; Monday night the Christian Slater show that got cancelled, and Thursday was "Life on Mars".

Out came the bag of pretzels and a glass of Clamato juice.

And I had control. I would eat around five pretzel rods which equalled around 200 calories plus an additional 50 calories for the juice.

Since I rarely ate three meals a day, that usually was my dinner.

For three months, I showed a little control. I ate them slowly while sipping on my tomato juice. (Pretzels and tomato/clamato juice are a very nice combination.)

Well joyfulness and giddiness appeared and all of a sudden, a bag that would last me almost two weeks, was gone in two days.

Naturally, my pants started feeling tighter.

So, I had to banish them . . . again.

Dang.

Finding Inspiration from 12 Y/O

2009-02-01T16:53:00.004-06:00

First, thank you all for your nice and supportive comments. The vileness of the situation is not only embarrassing - though I know we have nothing to be embarrassed about because of his actions; but also, I feel I will always be judged, as in "how could she not have known?"

The vileman was in expert in compartmentalizing. Knowing when to be "family man" and when to be "vileman". I had my suspicions, but no proof. Thankfully, he ran out of luck and was caught.

Up until I started this new blog, only my family and a few of my friends knew about our situation. I have waited seven months to start blogging the truth.

Due to the embarrassment factor, I chose to move the children and myself to my parents' house. New town and new schools where no one has to know about vileman.

***

Last spring, I purchased new shorts for 12 Y/O (who was 11 at that time), all of them a size 12. None of them fit - too tight. He went from a size boys 10 to 14, skipping size 12. He was in no way chubby or husky or plump.

Anyway, this past summer I noticed his belly was poochy and even saw a few cellulite patches. We of course, had a traumatic summer where we fled away from our home, the neighborhood swimming pool, greenbelt trails and a YMCA membership. So I was hoping he wouldn't be the new "fat" kid by the time school started. I think he might have weighed 110 pounds by the end of August and at 5 foot even, that is still no where near being fat. I was just worried about the belly unfitness (my problem).

School starts and up here, the kids have PE more than twice a week. And "coach" is lazy. He just looks like a former high school athlete who drank one too many beers. But he makes the kids run laps, do sit-ups and push ups.

Add karate lessons twice a week, by Thanksgiving, 12 Y/O had the makings of a six pack (I have a pony keg). His biceps and triceps have definition, thanks to those knuckle push-ups and planks.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed his jeans were baggy (size boys 14's) and asked him to get on the scale.

101.4 pounds.

All I could think: "I sure wished I had started doing what he was doing back at the end of August."

Now is my chance.

Start today.

And in six months, I'm going to be telling myself "I'm so glad I finally started."

Foreshadow and Irony

2009-01-26T12:30:00.008-06:00

***I know I wrote about going forward and not dwelling on the past, but I need the closure of putting those unhappy events in writing. I wanted to do it over at the other blog but I was warned a few months back by a relative to not write about it, because it would give me . . . cancer. (That person was not my parents.) Well, I disagree. I think writing it down is part of the healing process. Also, the vile man kept his family away from the filth. Unknowingly, we were his beard. The children and I provided him the cover-up of a family man. It was like living with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

I had no idea that he was doing what he was doing, though I did get the creeps sometimes. I thought he was cheating on me with other women (turns out he was doing that too).

I didn't tell any relatives about this new blog, that way I don't have to censor myself and should I end up with cancer, someone will not be able to tell me "I told you so".

Please bear with me on occasion, when I feel like writing about the past. Sorry, this is very long . . .***

I was sitting at the dinning room table with three strange men staring at me. They wanted to sit in the breakfast room, but I told them my children ate at that table and I just could not sit there and be told about the filth.

My mouth was dry and my head was pounding. I had already been on the road for 45 minutes, headed north, when the call came on my cell phone from the detective who arrested the vile man. I didn't take the call because I thought it was going to be the lawyer that the vile man had asked me to call, which I refused to do. When I checked my voicemail, it was the detective, informing me he was at my house and wanted to talk to me.

Visions of SWAT vans and police cars surrounding my house immediately flashed before my eyes. I think I saw several local news stations and maybe even Geraldo Rivera at my door. Instead of calling him back, I did what any normal, 44 year old woman whose husband had been arrested does. . . I called my daddy.

"Dad, there is a detective calling me and he wants to talk to me! Will you call him back and tell him I'm too afraid to go back because the weasel is going to kill me for not bailing him out of jail!!!"

I was still headed north.

I kept thinking of me having to drive down my street with throngs of reporters sticking their microphones toward my car window. I could not be on television looking like I did. Earlier that morning, I took an aerobics class at the Y and it kicked my butt. When I got home, instead of showering, I made coffee, blogged and decided to lie down for my sinus headache. I also took sinus meds, hence the dry mouth. On top of that, I had sweated buckets after getting off the phone with a weasel and ran around the house gathering things to throw into the mini van. So, I basically looked and smelled like shit.

A few minutes later, my dad called me and tried to talk me into going back home and cooperate with the detective. So, I told my dad to have the detective call me back and I would talk to him.

Me: "Hello."

Detective: "This is Det. Nice."

Me: "I'm not coming back!!! Can't you get a search warrant?! Please! That man is going to kill me for not bailing him out of jail and I'm embarrassed about you being in front of my house! What are the neighbors going to say?!!!"

Detective: I'm not in a police car, I'm in a Ford **fill in some cheap economy sized model***. Your neighbors don't have to know anything unless you tell them." **Insert five minutes of him begging me to turn around and go back.**

I called the detective when I reached my street and told him what I was driving and that I would pull up in my driveway. I also told him that I needed to get my dog out of the car and to please not pull their guns on me.

He thought that was funny, assured me he didn't have his gun with him and that I was a victim.

I was surprised how quiet my street was. No media, no SWAT vans and no police cars.

After getting the kids' small poodle out of the car (he was carsick) I carried him to the front lawn where I greeted Detective Nice.

No fancy designer suit on this guy. (I gotta quit watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent.) He was wearing blue jeans, an untucked button down shirt and a baseball hat. His cohorts (the two other police officers) were also dressed in blue jeans. They all followed me into my house.

We sat down and Det. Nice tried to put me at ease and joked that he thought I was going to be getting a large dog out of my car and was surprised to see a small, hairy poodle in my arms all limp like.

Det. Nice was the good cop.

Sargent Baldy played bad cop. (I say that, because he rolled his eyes at something I said. )

But all three of them were very nice and assured me, that the children and I were victims of the vile man.

I spent three hours with those men, listening to them tell me what a sick man, vile man was. When they were leaving, they all mentioned how relieved I looked and not just because they were leaving.

I was relieved . . . and not just because three police men were leaving my house. The relief came, because I knew we were free of the vile man.

By the way, the vile man's arrest was kept out of the media. No newspaper mention nor was it on the 10:00 news.

On January 6th, I met Detective Nice once again. This time he was sitting in front of me in the courthouse. He was sitting next to the lovely lady he worked with who was the keeper of police records. I had already met Lovely Lady at my temporary order hearing (pre-divorce thing) last August. She was so supportive.

Had I passed Det. Nice on the street, I would have never recognized him. He had on a suit and no baseball cap. He looked exactly like Tony Soprano and/or the actor who portrayed him. I loved the Sopranos.

I wanted to hug this man - a good full frontal hug too! (I never give frontal hugs because of my big ahems, so my hugs are more shoulder hugs with my big ahems not touching the person I'm hugging.) Thankfully I didn't try to hug him because he was standoffish and a little unfriendly. Not because he didn't like me, but because he was having to sit in a courthouse, waiting to testify at my divorce trial and I wasn't supposed to be fraternizing with the witnesses.

The lovely lady turned around and explained that Det. Nice was nervous because the vile man's criminal attorney (who brings their criminal attorney to a divorce trial?!) would have the opportunity to cross examine him and it didn't look good if he was seen talking to me. She said he didn't want to hurt my feelings.

I said oops, I'm sorry and leaned back into the courthouse pew. But Lovely Lady said she could talk to me because all she had to do was hand over the big thick vile file on the vile man to the judge.

After lunch, Det. Nice realized we probably would settle and not go to trial. So he turned around and talked to me. I told him a story called "Foreshadow and Irony" (see, I went through all the above mess just to tell you the following, and it might not even be considered irony, because, I wasn't all that smart in high school.)

The day before the vile man was arrested, I had just seen my parents off with the children. They would be visiting my parents for ten days. Ten days without children! Anyway, it was early afternoon and I turned on the TV and watched an HBO documentary about Roman Polanski (another vile man) and the trouble he got himself into before fleeing the country. Something about his narcissism, reminded me of the vile man. I even googled Roman, after the show ended, to read more about his vile troubles. And I'm not talking about the murder of his wife in the late 60's, I'm talking about what happened a few years later.

The next day, the vile man was arrested for similar troubles.

He spent eight days in jail, before he bailed himself out using credit cards. While in jail, he called my parents' home every night. We never answered the phone. In a weird way, it was soothing to know he was still in jail (thanks to caller ID).

When I finally did talk to vile man, a couple of weeks later, he told me he went to meet Det. Nice (not knowing Det. Nice was a detective) to beat him up and keep our children safe from men like him (Det. Nice's undercover persona). After my hysterical laughter died down, because I had already heard that excuse several times on Dateline's to Catch a Predator, I told him: first, our children were never in danger of internet villains because I monitored their internet usage. And secondly, the man vile man went to beat up, to protect his children from, ended up being the man who would set us free and protect us from vile man. I think that might be called irony.

Vacation Is Over (Not that I was on vacation ...)

2009-01-22T13:51:00.002-06:00

January the first, came and went for me with nary a thought about diet or exercise. And I have to tell you, that was nice not fretting about health changes for the new year.

Since January 1997, I have been a yo-yo dieter. Every year, around December 30th, I would start thinking about meal plans and exercise schedules, promising myself "this is the year . . ."

January 2009 came around, and the only thing on my mind was my divorce date on the 6th.

I was so giddy that January day, driving the four hour commute home, after being in court all day long. I stopped at McD's to go to the ladies room (it was a four hour drive!). And since I was already there, I thought I had better have me some supper. Instead of ordering a small plain hamburger, I celebrated with a Big Mac.

Being giddy also gave me an awful sweet tooth. I have been very giddy for 16 straight days.

Prior to the giddiness, I was maintaining around 170 to 173 pounds. And I did have a very joyful Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years.

Thirty-five days of joyfulness followed by 16 days of giddiness begets a fat ass.

Alas, time to start thinking about those meal plans and exercise schedules . . .

So Where was I?

2009-01-18T15:45:00.007-06:00

If you are reading this, you probably know me by another diet blogger name which I refuse to use anymore. That way of life/persona/chapter/book has ended, and I'm feeling it's time for a fresh start.

To catch you up on the last six months: I found out one day last summer, that my husband had been arrested. He called home that early afternoon, to ask me to bail him out of jail. After I asked him what he had been arrested for (it was bad), I told him he had made the wrong phone call and hung up on him. I knew at that moment, all those years of my suspicions had been right-on and I saw an opportunity to flee.

Thankfully, my children were visiting with my parents when all this occurred and I immediately packed up important papers and hightailed it north to be with them.

We never went back and our life in suburbia came to a screeching halt.

Over the next six months, I felt like I was on a roller coaster. Sometimes things were going very good then events would take a turn for the worse. But I survived and earlier this month, the divorce was finalized. And I am now ready to close that chapter on "Survival and Endless Waiting".

I accomplished what I wanted from the divorce - no access or possession of the children by their father. I also was able to get three of his parental rights revoked and at some point he has to reimburse me for all my lawyer fees.

A fresh start with a new blog and identity was needed. My head is in the right place (thanks to the healer) now I want my body to be in the right place and I always got such great support from you all.

So, hopefully that occasional funny lady shows up to write about the trials and tribulations of chronic dieting. And if it's OK with you, I might sometimes write about the divorce - just for healing purposes, and I promise it will not be too woe is me.

I feel like a brand spanking new 5-subject notebook, just waiting to be filled (with mostly ramblings of rubbish). But still, who doesn't love the endless possibilities of a blank notebook?