I mean Really, who throws a shoe anyway?

You know the expression “waiting for the other shoe to drop”? Well, they seem to be just falling from the sky. I have to break this up into manageable pieces as I do have a tendency to jump around. My thoughts flit…you know this.

Yesterday:

I have been taking an early lunch breaks because it’s generally busier in the afternoon and everyone is trying to get out for a break. It just makes it easier and I don’t really mind. I was coming back from lunch and at a busy intersection just about a minute from work as I turned into the right turning lane and yielded to oncoming traffic. I was waiting the green car pass when this BIG ASS yellow company truck (not my company of course) did not yield, therefore rear-ending me with a HUGE FREAKIN BANG! My car lurched forward, luckily not into traffic. I was able to get it to the shoulder of the road and turn it off. Then the hyperventilation set in.

*first thought*~~shit! Now I have to miss more time at work, just what I need…followed by a mental string of vile curses. It was pouring rain and I called work immediately to ask someone to come help me deal (since I am on the verge of hysteria and need reason), then I kinda rub my neck and get out to look at the back of the car. I spend a very short time examining the back (not realizing the damage on the right side at that point). Driver gets in to write down his info and ask if I’m ok. I tell him that it wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t already been having a few nasty days before.

I spent the entire afternoon at emergency. Unfortunately, I met no cute ambulance drivers, police, nurses or doctors. Apparently the fireman was good looking but I couldn’t turn my head to look. Anyhow, I had my first ambulance ride and cursed the entire ride there. So…I have whiplash. NICE. You do realize that I’m moving this week right? Packing’s gonna be a bitch.

Thursday:

Shortly after 4:30pm that day I received a call at work from one of the leaders at the morning/after school program. For the second week in a row he had been short, rude and disrespectful to her, therefore he would be suspended from the club for a day. He is normally quite well behaved so there’s something up. I called to tell his father and he got angry first, then told me Seth has been asking to see a therapist. I do not object to this, it’s just a lot to absorb all at once. I finished work and went to collect the boys. I told Seth to go to his room and read and that we would talk about it later. We talked. I am sad for him. I don’t know what’s wrong and we aren’t who he wants to talk to. This is going to be good for him I think. Just a scary new phase.

So, after the boys settled in for bed their father called back.

Baby daddy~~”I am worried about their behavior lately and think that they should stay with me for the next 2 months while you are in transition. That would be best, don’t you think? All settled in the new apartment?” sigh “Princess, it makes me sick to my stomach to have to call. I know you have been dealing with a lot of things right now and maybe this will be better for them.”

Mental me~~”NOOOOOOOOOOOO! I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT THEM. PLEASE DON’T TAKE THEM FROM ME. I NEED THEM. I BETTER GET SOMETHING IN WRITING!

Aloud~~”I’m not sure I can handle that. I’m not sure they can. We need to talk to them.” *of course there was quite a bit of tears on my end as well.*

Ok my friends…so I understand all the practical reasons, the transition period and all of that. My rational mind tells me that even if this happens it’s not the end of the world. I can still see them on weekends and go to their activities. I still have them for Christmas Eve. I can see the upside. I can exercise every day and get into a balanced routine so that when they come back I am more healed and more healthy. *incidentally I am shrinking a little…trying to keep it under control* But, then there’s this whole other part of me that is just losing it. These are my children. How can I not see them when I am supposed to see them? How much will they miss me? I have been crying for days.

Saturday:

The ex boyfriend dropped his son off for a sleepover. He spoke with each of my boys (which was very nice) and we had a sweet, civilized, positive conversation ourselves. I never ever like for things to end on bad terms and with angry feelings, so it was comforting (even though I still know I need time all alone to heal). You have to know how much confusion was running through my brain. I wanted to hold him close, you know? It was nice, but it’s still over.

Today:

Whiplash is a bitch. Insurance companies can be difficult, but I happen to have a great broker. She hooked me up with a nice agent at my insurance company who has already begun handling all the details. I worked half the day then came home to rest as my neck is really sore as well as my right shoulder and forearm. No bruising, no deployment of the airbag. Lucky me.

Baby daddy called back and wants to sit the boys down sometime this week to tell them they are staying with him for a while. The man has spoken. Shit! I could go to my lawyer and fix this…but I am not going to. I just want a document that we can both sign with witnesses that I will have my boys back with me as soon as this transition is done and lots of visits in the interim.

I am overwhelmed. Any words you can give me to make me feel better? Aside from saying good thing I was in a car and not walking? Cause that would suck. Scroll down to the last couple of posts…had some guests in the princess house.

whew...that was really long.

I got to rest now.

kisses
the princess

Mariposa's Haiku

Back to My Future

it's over now, it was fun while it lasted,

that i've come to accept

why it happened, how it happened and what happened

dont hold meaning now

it's time to move on

i've got my sanity back

and i'm keeping it

Mariposa inspires me with her posts every week and I am so glad she decided to write something that ties in so well to me right now.

My Addiction

Princess here. Just letting you know that this post has been brought to you by the classically witty and often sarcastic Sid...all the way from South Africa. Enjoy!

Hi, my name is Sid and I’m an addict. They say that admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

Well, I’ve been clean for two months now. I’ve told everyone that I no longer constantly crave the high I once experienced when I’d had my first taste, just over two years ago. I had convinced myself that I had finally found inner peace and that I could do this by myself. I was determined to beat this. I couldn’t erase the image of comforting my future son or the image of me wrapped up securely in the arms of my future husband, from constantly entering my mind. And I knew that the only way that I could ever attain any of this, the life I have always desired and yearned for, was if I gave up this habit of degradation. So I quit cold turkey and everything was going along just fine until yesterday.

All it took was one little whiff of the good stuff and before I knew it I had fallen off the wagon. Here I am at work at 8 in the morning and all I could think of is when I can get my next fix. My need is so bad that I neglected to do any actual work. Instead I spent all of my time thinking of ways to raise enough cash to score. Various schemes entered my head, each one as ludicrous as the next. My bursary would only be coming in next year and I couldn’t wait that long. I need cash now! No the only option left to me was to sell my kidneys. I hear you can make R10 000, which is all I really needed for a plane ticket to Pakistan. Yes my friends I am addicted to travelling.

Now I bet all of you are probably wondering what a charismatic, beautiful, intelligent, eloquent, hilarious, humble girl like me could possibly want to see or do in Pakistan. And I wish I was capable of giving you an answer that gave the impression that I had spend hours reading up on the history and culture of Pakistan. But the truth is that I am a dipshit who took one look at the following picture before deciding that I JUST HAVE TO GO to Pakistan even if it meant selling my body – and inevitably my soul – to raise the cash for the trip.

Now I know that many people would say that I am brave (code word for crazy) to attempt crossing a rickety bridge like that. The thing is that I don’t classify myself as brave (mentally unstable). Everything scares me. Everything! And I know that if I ever make it to that bridge I’d be cursing like nobody’s mother fucking business but I’d force myself to go through with it. I can see myself now, standing there, trying my utmost to control my breathing, wanting nothing more than to turn around. But I’ll do it because every time I do something that scares the shit out of me (not literally) I gain something. There’s this amazing feeling of triumph because you haven’t allowed fear to control the way you live life.

The thing is that I know me. I am the most fickle person you will ever meet. If I don’t follow through with this in the next couple of months I’ll never go. Remember Ecuador? Two years ago I proclaimed that Ecuador was my “destiny”. (Yes, I use words like destiny and fate. Yes, I occasionally read my horoscopes and watch Oprah aka Our Saviour. What? Don’t judge!) Now if you were to ask me about Ecuador my reply will be a very articulate “bleh”. I am simply incapable of sustaining enthusiasm for anything for longer than four months. That’s just who I am and I make no apologies for this.

Alone but not lonely

Through the course of my longest relationship (with the boys' father) I was no stranger to being alone. He went away sometimes for months at a time. I was accustomed to alone time. Of course, I did have my child/children to keep me occupied and focused and also the financial security and knowledge of the return of said partner, which made it all right.

I have always floated from one relationship to another. I love to be loved and need to love others. I am very nervous of strangers and usually make a choice to date someone I have known and become friends with. I can't explain it, I'm just telling you how it is. My problem is *well, perhaps there is more than just 1, but only this one for today* that I seem to lose myself in relationships. It is my nature to please others. I begin to neglect my own thoughts and feelings in some ways and don't always notice until it's too late.

Now I am alone. Yes, I have my children and they are a great comfort because I will always get to love them and they will always return it. We are a family...but wait! I have to share them with their father. I only get them half the time. It took me years to adjust and look at the positive of that situation (although I would never have done it any differently). I always looked at it like I am missing half of their lives. I was able to deal with it because there was always a man in my life to help me adjust. Someone for me to love and care for but now I truly am alone.

I am always looking at the time. *watch out! the princess is on a verbal roll now!* I have always been very time conscious...always. Mostly because I always have someone to take care of, someone to get home to. Does that make sense? I was out with Becca today and for the first time in a very long time, I had absolutely no schedule...and I was actually willing to put on some make-up, do my hair and socialize for a change. I have been spending an awful lot of time at home by myself when the boys are gone. I have been doing a great deal of thinking. Sometimes I come home and don't even turn on the tv or music all evening. Sometimes I just play solitaire and turn things over in my mind. Sometimes I pace and tidy up the house as I walk around. I have just recently gotten back into watching some of my shows. Just a few weeks ago I didn't have enough focus on any show to repeat back what was just said. What I crave though, is human contact. I love phone calls. My girls call and check up on me, or more often I call them when I feel like gabbing. It's ok to just talk on the phone because I don't always actually want to have someone here with me. I feel very sad and I still sometimes cry, but it's not bad...just really different. I check my blog/fb/e-mail all the time. I don't know what I'm waiting for though, it's just a bizarre little habit I have started. I suspect I will obsess about it less and less as time passes. I think at first I would check in hopes of hearing from "the ex"...but I don't look for that anymore. It's not that I don't miss him because I do, but I have a responsibility myself and to my boys and things to do with my friends. I have a job and a life to lead and that's just what I plan to do.

I have been giving a lot of thought to blogging and what I love about it. I love the interaction with all of you. I love that I will sometimes get a call or e-mail from a friend who read something and wanted to comment on it too. It makes me feel good when I get feedback because I love attention...I AM a princess don't ya know! haha...Actually, I also love the feedback because perspective is good. Experience is good. People are interesting and it's cool to connect about feelings with others. I have come in contact with some amazing people during my life and also here on my blog travels. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I have asked a few fine ladies to do guest posts for me. I received a great one from Sid which I plan to post on Monday. I might even wait until Tuesday because it would be a shame if you all missed it! Stay tuned.

kisses,

the princess

Happy Birthday Seth!

My son is 11 today. I can't believe it's been that long. Makes me feel just a little older today for some reason. That's all right though, I can handle it. I am so very impressed with Seth right now. Through the current situation here at home he has been wonderful. He is sensitive to the fact that I am sad, and he watches me closely to make sure I am ok. If he hears me sniffle, he asks how I am and offers me a hug. I always assure him that I will probably be sad for a while but that I will get used to it and everything will be just fine. He has been a great support to me.

This past Saturday night I invited Seth's 2 best school buddies to sleep over and celebrate his birthday. One of the boys has slept over many times and his younger brother come too so that Sidney wouldn't feel left out. It worked out quite well except that buddy #1 hadn't ever had a sleepover before and was a little nervous. He also has reflux and ate something before coming over that didn't agree with him. He called his poor mother at midnight to pick him up. Awww...maybe another time then. Next! Buddy #2 has asthma. He coughed a lot but managed to get some sleep. We acquired a cat since last time he stayed and it wasn't very good. He had taken a different bag to carry his things and didn't have his puffer. I called his mom, picked her up at her mom's to take her home to get his medicine. That was shortly after 9 on Sunday morning. Despite the craziness, all 5 boys had a great time playing and enjoying time together. It was funny to listen to their little conversations. A good time was had by all...minus the illnesses of course.

What the H-E-double hockey sticks should I do with all these boxes?

Holy crap there's a lot of stuff to pack in this house. It's my first packing day since it's a long weekend (Happy Thanksgiving by the way...let's hear it for Canada!) and I am alone for my day off. I set some boxes upright and taped them strong. I have removed things from drawers (starting in the living room) and all I have to do is get at it.

Here's the problem...I don't want to! Packing sucks. I always have trouble getting started. There is a loose prong on the back of my tv so my plan to watch last week's CSI Miami and Prison Break as I pack is kaput. I've got no picture. I can listen to music but it just isn't the same. Boy do I hate a thwarted plan.

Note to self : *consider getting a new tv this spring*.

K, so I just got a call from Midge and she gave me a pep talk. I can't believe it's already so late in the day! Gawd, I am still obsessing in my head about the tv as I write this post! I have to end this and get started. I made a pot of coffee and took every book off the bookshelf on my way back to the computer. I have to separate things as some will go with us to my friends place, while the rest will go into storage. I have to pack all my everyday needs last obviously. I can live without the nic-nacs and pictures for the next while. Here I go...wish me luck. :)

Landing on my feet with cat like stealth

When difficult situations arise, Mama Bear jumps out. On occasion it's more like a Mama Lion. I have trouble with change.

Change is good right?

Nope. I still don't like it. In this case though, I had to make some choices purely based on the well being and security of my children. I have the car now and my expenses have increased since I moved here while household income has drastically decreased just recently. It's all good...mama worked it out. The problem is not really change itself, it's the process of getting from point A to B. I get myself all worked up but...something was different this time. I actually had a lot of clarity. I worked out the details as best I could and researched my options with focus and determination.

I feel very blessed to have good people in my life. I received an email last week from a friend of mine. It was only a couple of sentences but I couldn't help but cry. She said "why don't you just put your stuff in storage for a bit and stay at my place? I can stay at my guy's place and you can bring the boys' bunk beds and a couple of dressers. That way you'll have your finances worked out and able to get your new place." I already worked out all the details of the new place. The issue is the loss of the damage deposit here (I have to break my lease-damned if I do, damned if I don't kind of thing) and coming up with another deposit (1/2 a month's rent).

How kind and generous. Really and truly I am grateful. Much like pinkpiddypaws (I would link it if I wasn't being lazy) I have trouble accepting help from others but am happy to give it. I had to think about this one for a couple of days but I feel good about my choice to accept her help.

Today is a good day. I spoke with my brother the genius on the phone for the first time in over a year. I always feel such joy when I talk to him. I also saw my guardian mom (who I haven't seen in a couple of years) on Sunday. We went to get the boys from their father's place and enjoyed a lovely afternoon together. Tomorrow is a new day. Each one gets a little more normal. I have to move at the end of the month so I won't post much. Perhaps I need to call on some sweet guest bloggers? Hmmm?

it's bedtime...

kisses

the princess

Time Heals

Here's a good song for Saturday...

Better in Time

This is just a very lovely song. For me it has only been a short time but I know it really will be better as the months pass. I think the lyrics of this song are positive and helpful.

Rash Decisions

I walked into Di's office the other day and quite boldly announced..."I was thinking I might chop my hair." *indicating and inverted bob with my hands*

Di: "NO! Don't cut your hair. I will never talk to you again. Wait until you're sane!"

I shriveled a little and said..."Ok, I'll wait."

Thank godness for good friends to keep me in line.

I've been meaning to do this post for a while now

Here are a few shots from Becca's wedding at the beginning of August. Keep in mind that I was in the wedding party so I really don't have too many pictures of the actual event.

Me and Becca's fabulously gay cousin PJ. We became friends as soon as we met and before I knew it he had offered to give me my curly doo for the wedding. He got really drunk the night before and I was thrilled that he still hauled ass over to do it.

Thanks again PJ. I got my eyebrows done the day before the wedding. They are a little narrow for my taste, but it's all good.

I just wanted to show you my pretty shoes, purple toenails, and the big bruise I aquired while decorating the reception hall. I simply cannot wear something pretty without having a bruise.

Keep in mind that PJ was snapping these pics behind the professional photographer, so the angles are off.

The beauty queen herself. What a beautiful bride she was.

According to the local ladies, this was the best "Garter Dance" ever. They had never seen someone dance to the entire song before! I happen to think that it's awesome that the groom actually has to WORK for that garter belt...and why shouldn't he? She's worth it. The dance was really quite impressive--complete with a backspin and everything. Becca chose "Billy Jean". Excellent choice my friend.