Mom in a Blender

The life of a mom is like living in a blender


The first time I heard someone say the word to describe themselves as loyal I was in my early 30’s. I like the sound of loyal. When I met m ex husband the description I often heard in reference to him was he was loyal. I could tell he was loyal to his family as they were loyal to him. The issue with the loyal dynamic with him and his family is he always yelled at them, me, and we remained loyal to him. Strange.

We divorced and he moved on and started dating a woman. I am happy for him. They moved in with each other fairly quickly and one week after they moved in together he told me he thought he made a mistake and still loved me. I thought to myself where is his loyalty to her? I ended up telling her. I thought I was doing her a favor because who wants to be with someone who is secretly pining for someone else? Apparently, that phenomena is prevalent in society, but I will write more on that later.

Needless to say m ex husband who always fiercely stated his loyalty to me called me a liar and his girlfriend believed him. I don’t blame her. Who wants to believe the person you love is a liar and potential cheat?

Flash forward to Christmas where my ex husband was begging to come over and have sex with me and informed me he had cheated on his girl friend and she caught him but still wanted to work on their relationship. I did not tell her he was trying to come see me for sex as I already tried to tell her once and both of them called me a liar. I am just wondering if my definition of loyalty differs from another’s definition of loyalty?

I strive to live an honest and loyal existence. This past year I have been disappointed in discovering people who claim to love me have been loyal and dishonest.

It’s not just happening in my life, but in other’s lives around me, which makes me sad.

I was in a relationship with a man for almost two years. A man who told me he was divorced. I recently learned he is not divorced. His wife found an e-mail I sent to him and reached out to me. I felt sick to my stomach. This man who I purely love lied to me from day one. I asked him why he lied and he said it was easier to say he was divorced than to say he was unhappily married. I understand his logic but again I am left wondering how many truly loyal people actually exist in society? I don’t knowingly date married men, but yet I have been for almost two years.

I am a loyal person. I am a forgiving person. People who know me well know this about me. I have met many married men who are unhappily married and I graciously tell them I am not interested. I think life is meant to live without secrets. I believe before one opens a door they should close the other door.

I believe loyalty is an honorable trait, but finding truly honorable people is probably like finding an honest politician…

But I won’t stop looking.


February 14, 1991

February 14, 1991. Thursday. Valentine’s Day. A day that would change her life for the rest of her life. She was 17 and dying to be a typical teenager but her life was far from typical. She went to school, worked a part time job and was desperate to escape her fucked up family life.

Early child abuse at the hands of her mother and no safe refuge in the arms of a loving father forced her into searching for someone, anyone who would rescue her and give her love.

She found love in all the wrong places, wrong arms, wrong voices, wrong everything and she knew it but was so broken down and willing to take any glimpse of attention and affection that she put herself in fucked up situations.

She was involved with an older man, older not by much, he was 21. He was 21 with two children by two different women. One of the women was his estranged wife who he happened to be living with. Living with and having sex with. He impregnated her after he impregnated his girlfriend who he broke up with. His girlfriend who called her and told her that they had sex. She had been warned…

It’s funny how people ignore those warning signs. I bet even if she saw big neon lights that blinked RUN RUN RUN she would not have ran. I bet she would have ignored the lights because she would strive for freedom at any price, even at the expense of her own life and others…

She had a rocky relationship with this man, naturally, but on that February 14th he drove up and she snuck out of her house and went with him for a secret rendezvous. She was not on birth control but she knew she did not want to get pregnant. She took precautions against pregnancy and she absolutely did take precautions that February 14, 1991. She knew he loved her sex. He loved her on top. In the heat of their moment she asked him “where do you want it?” He said in a panting, breathless voice, “in your pussy, in your ass, in your mouth, anywhere.” She did not like it in her ass, this same said guy had anally raped her one day but that’s a story for another time.

She eased herself onto him and rode him the way her liked and in that moment she knew something was different. Something was different that would change her life forever…

Looking back I bet people always think why did I do this? Why did I do that? Why did I not see that? The truth is people ignore what is right in front of their face. They ignore the warning signs. Ignorance leads to consequences. Consequences she had to face and live with for the rest of her life because she was so in need of love on the February 14, 1991 that did change her life forever…


When Sara died…

It was a Friday. Just like any other day of the week. I get up and get ready for work and my phone buzzed. I glanced at my phone and saw a text from my aunt that my grandmother’s time was coming to an end. I braced myself and in a daze went to work and tried to function as normal with that news in the back of my mind.
Towards the end of the day I informed my boss about my grandmother and he told me to keep him posted.
When I got home from work I was sitting in the kitchen and my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the phone with a sense of dread and saw a text from my aunt my grandmother had passed. For a quick instant I felt shattered. My relationship with my family on my mother’s side is fragile. Things happened between us that are painful. I happened to share the same birthday as my grandmother and our birthday’s had just passed. She was 93 so I knew and understood it was her time, but I also had to decide if I would go to her funeral. I questioned did I have the strength to face people who hurt me as a child?
I texted my boss about my grandmother and he responded for me to keep him posted on what I would do. I tried to go through the motions of the week end like normal. I spoke to my mother and she told me she would really love it if I went to the funeral. I struggled all week end over what I would do.
Sunday night I received a cryptic message from my boss’s boss about a conference call at 7:30 in the morning for all my coworkers. My boss was not on the message and I knew something was wrong. I just did not know what. I texted my boss, “are you ok?” No response.
I texted my coworker and asked her if she knew anything. She responded she would tell me in the morning. I still felt a sense of dread and I told her of the passing of my grandmother. She texted condolences and we agreed to speak in the morning.
After tossing and turning through the night I got up Monday morning still struggling over the passing of my grandmother and fearful of what I would face at work.
My coworker came in and called me into the office. She said, “Sara died.” At that moment I felt like a china doll shattering and said, “No, no, no.” Sara was the longtime girlfriend of my boss. Sara was 28. Sara was dead? No, no, no, but it was true. My coworkers and I learned on the conference call it was true. Sara was dead. I did not know Sara but I heard a lot of Sara and she was 28. Her age kept going through my mind. I knew with my boss gone for the week I had to keep it together for him and the team. It was that day I decided to attend my grandmother’s funeral. I was afraid of facing my mother’s family alone, but I also face my fears.
I trudged through the week in a daze. Each day I was asking myself am I dreaming? I was not dreaming.
I did attend the funeral of my grandmother and I was glad I did. I saw family I don’t often see. Funerals tend to be like crazy family reunion’s where you gather together for a sad event but it is also joyous because you see family you would otherwise not see. I sat during the service observing different reactions, emotions and reached the conclusion all families have some dysfunction. No family is perfect and whatever pained caused in the past is forgiven.
I was told by family members who were with my grandmother when I called her to tell her happy birthday her face lit up in happiness over the call. I had not called her to tell her happy birthday in years. I was happy I was able to tell her one last happy birthday and she was able to tell me one last happy birthday.
Death is so final, whether someone is 93 or 28, it’s final. I found myself thinking of Sara often. Thinking Sara would never feel the sun shine again. I am mindful of the sun. I love the sun. I thought of my boss and when he would laugh again. I love his laugh. My boss is private with his feelings. I have heard him laugh but it is not the same. Sara will not hear him laugh.
When Sara died life as I knew it changed and I had not even met Sara. I like to think Sara is watching out for my boss and looking down on him and shining. I know his life changed and that is life as we know it…

It takes a village…

The old saying it takes a village to raise a child is great, but what if the village is comprised of people who hate? What if the village is comprised of just plain ignorance? Hate and ignorance is a disease.

If communities or villages are filled with people who hate and promote ignorance the children will grow up to be hate filled and ignorant. Is it the fault of the child? No.

I grew up in a very abusive environment. My mother tried to kill me many times. I prayed to God she would die. I prayed so very hard and I asked God to forgive me for praying such a horrendous thing but I wanted to stop fearing for my life.

I was one of those kids who thought about killing their mother because I could not take being abused. I felt it was her or me. My mother was so strong and I was so afraid and I truthfully did not have the hate in my heart or enough desperation to kill her. I understand the children who do kill their parents.

When I read the stories in the media of people who kill people because they are a different race or different lifestyle or whatever, I cannot help but feel those perpetrators of violence suffer from the affliction of the disease of hate or mental illness they have been subjected to from their village. Who is to blame?

If all a person or child sees is hate growing up, how does anyone expect that child to grow up not hating?

If all a person sees is evil, how does anyone expect that person to not be anything but evil? That’s the reality no one wants to accept.

No one from my family wants to accept the fact that because I was abused I have to fight harder to not be hate filled. I have to fight harder to trust people. My village did not protect me.

I am not saying the people who hurt others should not face consequences. They absolutely should, but if people really looked at where these violent people came from they would see many are guilty for contributing to the creation of that person.

I once told my mother I wanted to become a meteorologist. My mother said I was not smart enough to become a meteorologist. She said my sisters were smart enough to become doctors and lawyers, but not me.

I thought to myself, wow thanks for the encouragement and for crushing my dream. Today, I know I can do anything I want to do. I am determined like that but I had to fight hard to get to this mentality. I am hard headed, thank God for that.

My point of this is hate breeds hate and love breeds love. Sometimes we have to look at a very sad situation on a deeper level and instead of looking for vengeance look for ways to break through the barrier of hate in the villages that are encouraging hate. The responsibility falls on everyone.

Over and out

See Saw of life…

Life is like a see saw. Constantly filled with ups and downs, highs and lows. Through the highs and lows of life I have remained consistent. I never change really. I am like that old reliable friend where even if not speaking for ten years the conversation is easy.

This brings me to my ex husband. He is consistent like a see saw in a crazy way. In his world one week I am an awesome mother and the next week I am a monstrous mother who is trying to destroy our child. One week I am his favorite person and the next week I am called a miserable failure professionally and personally and I am crazy about to be carted off to the loony bin. All I can do is take the praise and insults with a grain of salt. It’s painful to be spoken about in such a way. I am after all a human being with feelings.

Recently, after a barrage of insults my ex husband called me. He said he needed a favor. Him and his girlfriend who I had not met got stuck in his car in a ditch near my house. It was snowy and cold and the tow truck was not going to come for 90 minutes. He asked me if him and his girlfriend could come wait in my house. I said sure no problem but thought to myself if I am such a monster why would he want to sit in my house?

I met the girlfriend in my pajamas and robe as that’s how I prefer to be at home. She seems like a nice person and we had things in common like love of Scandal and Twilight. I have a way of putting people at ease because guess what? I am not a monster!

The tow truck came and they went on their merry way…

My ex husband and his girlfriend are taking the next stage in their relationship by moving in together. My ex asked me if I would watch our daughter while he moved. I said, sure no problem. He dropped off our daughter and oh about 20 minutes later I get a call from him. He needs a favor. He lost his license and his girlfriend had an expired license so he asked me if I would come to the truck rental place with my license so he could rent a truck so he could move. Sure, I said, no problem. This is my life…

I am thinking to myself as I am helping I am his old life and he needs to find a way to solve his problems on his own but I will always lend a hand. I found out later it was his girlfriend’s idea to call me and she thinks I am so sweet for helping. I have always been described as sweet…

So my ex and his girlfriend have been living together for about two weeks now and one week into the happily ever after couple my ex tells me he feels aimless and needs to talk to me because I am the only person he can talk to. He thinks he may have made a mistake by moving in with his girlfriend. I am a listener. I am consistent. I told him that is why he always comes to me. I never really turn my back on anyone. Even someone who gives me praise one week and insults me terribly the next. I am just on this ride of the see saw of life trying to be the best person I can be and that is how I will remain.

Over and out:)

Come as you are, but…

I try not to get enamored with people I don’t know. I try not to make judgments about people I don’t know either.

I admire people who come from shitty situations in life and find success. That shit is not easy.

I admire the neurosurgeon and Republican candidate for president Ben Carson because he became a successful person against the odds of growing up in a struggling environment.

I however, don’t admire that he says homosexuality is a choice because many people go into prison straight and come out gay. That sounds like some dumb shit from a highly educated person. It just goes to show and prove not everyone can be intelligent and an expert on everything.

I have thought about this stupid comment all day and thought how the hell does he know? People need affection. Even people in prison. When you have people locked up for however many years they are still human beings. Human beings who will develop relationships. Maybe they choose to have affection because it’s necessary for sanity! I wish the great doctor really thought about the human factor and need for affection before saying something so stupid.

I am not a lesbian but I do believe if I were in prison with a bunch of other women I cannot say I would not develop a relationship with a woman because I do crave affection. This does not make me gay. It’s kind of like one has to work with what they have. Turn the unpleasant experience of prison from lemons to lemonade. Yes, that is a choice in prison given the circumstances, but out of prison I love men!

I don’t believe homosexuality is a choice and I think it’s fucked up society even ponders that shit. Imagine if we left homosexuals alone; live and let live so to speak and really focused on other truly important matters like terrorism and beheadings of innocent people and shit…

I happened to catch a show on cable today about gays and lesbians. This reformed lesbian mother found God and denounced her homosexuality and took her son to church hoping he would denounce his. A song played in the church with the words come as you are… What a crock of shit!! Come as you are but if you’re homosexual you’re going to hell. Ugh, that ignorance really burns me up and is so stupid. I am the first to admit I am part sinner and part saint and if I am damned to hell for my sins then I will go to hell feet stomping and have a damn good time! I don’t believe I am going to hell though so wherever I end up I will be stomping my feet. In my world it is come as you are and live and let live!!

Over and out:)


Before I had children and fell in love with my children my loves in life were reading and music. I totally love 80s music and classic rock.

Lately, I have determined a main theme song of my life is Time by Pink Floyd. I love Pink Floyd and as I type this blog or piece of my mind I am wearing the dark side of the moon prism t-shirt. I love Pink Floyd so much I made an art project of the prism in high school and I had the prism poster on my bedroom wall. I am trying to turn one of my children into the big Pink Floyd fan I am but sadly, they like the Beatles. One can never stop hoping…

Recently, I went for a walk in the woods with my children. I always listen to music. Thank God for IPhones! I love photography and well, the IPhone allows me to listen to music and take pictures. Ah, technology…

Walking in the woods the sun was shining so brightly I took a picture of the sun. I love the sun. I immediately thought “the sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older.” Time, time never stops, but we get older and eventually we will stop. That’s kind of sad, hell, that’s more than sad because we don’t know when our time will stop.

Recently, I was driving home from work. A route I have taken everyday for only God knows how many days, years. I have taken the route so many times I practically drive on auto pilot and then one day I witnessed something horrible. Music playing, singing along and then right in front of my eyes a big white SUV flips in the air like in the movies and lands on the sidewalk. My mouth flew open and I said what the fuck as I saw a man jump out the SUV and open the back door to retrieve a child. Many people stopped, but I was not one of them. I started saying oh my God, oh my God and I could not stop. I was too afraid of what I would see and felt I would have a mental breakdown. That’s the damn truth.

I don’t take my time on this earth for granted because I know I could be here one second driving or blogging or whatever and then bam, I could be gone.

I don’t have much to leave my daughters but I have a few things for them upon my death. I did not have anything for my three year old and that has been nagging me. I was given a gold necklace for Christmas with an S charm. My name starts with S. My three year old loves my S necklace. Her name happens to begin with S. It dawned on me the other day when I die my baby should have my S necklace. I let her father know my wishes. He said my thought was disturbing but time is on none of our sides.

I won’t forget that accident and how in that moment I clearly witnessed something that will haunt me forever. Tick tock goes the clock and knowing this I will strive to keep listening to Pink Floyd and all the other music I love and of course to always tell my children I love them.

Life is short and so precious and time never stops.

Over and out:)


So I am a couple years late but one of my many motto’s is better late than never. I am like who knows how many people who is now a fan of Scandal.

I love Olivia Pope’s character. She reminds me of myself. A fixer who needs fixing. I recently told a friend I am not complete and I don’t really want to be. Olivia said normal is overrated and it’s kind of true. What the hell is normal? I have been on a quest to find some kind of normal for myself and realize nothing happens overnight.

Life is filled with twists and turns and curveballs and snowballs and just plain shit.

I love the twisted sad fucked up love story between Olivia and the President. How many of us love someone perhaps maybe we should not? Love is love and how can we control who we love or who we don’t? The sad reality is many people love forbiddenly. I watch this show and I think to myself these people love each other so much and yet they can’t be together. I know my opinion is probably not popular but I don’t really care…

Love is life…

I also love Huck’s character. It’s kind of twisted but I do identify with him. I am not a person who gets off on killing or anything but I do appreciate someone who does not feel shame for what he does or likes to do. He is who he is.

So many people need fixing or saving and knowledge that people care for their well being. Without that human connection or empathy where would we be?

I find the more relationships I develop with people and the more that is shared with me I see many of us have struggles. Life is so damn short and we can be here one minute and gone the next. As long as I am alive I feel I must continue to try to live the best possible life. I just have a hard time getting there. It’s just not so easy.

I find it comical I never thought I would become one of those Scandal addicts. The show deals with so many complex issues and people’s personalities I am sure there are tons of different reasons why the show is popular.

I find myself excited when I think Olivia and the President could have a chance at happily ever after, but that’s a fucking fairy tale that happens to very few and that is the reality…

Over and out:)


Hello world, it’s been a while…

As I get older I find myself reflecting on my life more and more. I came to the conclusion, decision , whatever that I have lived in some sort of a prison for most of my life. I hate the prison. Prison represents walls, lack of freedom, loneliness, sadness, and desperation.

When I was a child my prison was my home. My mother abused me and kept me in my room. I had a room with a view where I would always look outside and dream of freedom from being hit or kicked or free from the fear of death. Windows have those panes, those panes are like prison windows.

I made it free from that prison but experienced other prisons in life.

I believe everyone lives in some sort of prison. The prison of hating what God gave us. Hate is a form of prison. As a child I hated my thick hair. Children at school always made fun of my thick hair. I don’t understand why children can be so mean. I don’t understand why people can be so mean. I don’t hate my hair today.

I used to hate my body. I always wanted to be thin like a supermodel. I have spent so many hours, days, weeks, years hating my body. I recently learned to love my body. I gave birth to beautiful daughters and I nursed them all. My body gave life and that makes my body beautiful. I feel great to feel free of the prison of hating my body.

I was married to a man who controlled me. He controlled me and I let him. I let him control me because I was afraid. Afraid or weak, probably both…

We are divorced and the day we became divorced I felt so free. So free of the prison of control. My God there is nothing like freedom. It’s kind of like Shawshank Redemption when Andy Dufrene breaks free of prison.

Today, I am not free and I am afraid because I don’t know what to do. My ex husband has imposed a prison on me in regards to our child. He wants to paint a picture that I am an abusive, hate filled, horrible monster of a mother. I am none of those things but I am afraid to effectively help raise my daughter because I don’t want to be accused of something horrendous.

Any person who knows me knows I am a good mother, a good person, a person who loves, kind of a hippie. Nothing about me would preach hate, or revenge. I am a person who has the motto of live and let live.

I feel like I have had to struggle my whole life to be free of so many prisons. It gets draining to always have to fight for freedom.

We only get one life to live and it’s our obligation to ourselves to make it the best. Many people will purposely try to bring us down or put us in prisons and I just don’t get why. My daughter is 3 and I hope and pray that I will not have to live in this prison forever. It seems when one prison door opens another prison door closes. I think if I lived completely free it would feel like heaven on earth.

All I can do is be patient and wait. I am a survivor, I have survived a lot and I will survive this, but damn I am tired…

Over and out J

Online Dating…

As much as I love technology I find technology to be a curse. Especially when it comes to dating. I have dabbled in online dating for years. I have so many stories I could write a book. It’s not easy to meet people like in the past. Everyone is so damn busy the only way to try to connect with someone is through technology. I have no idea how many dating sites are out there, but there are plenty of lonely people looking for love through a computer. It’s sad but funny at the same time. I feel like I could help people with writing profiles and taking pictures. I find many people just don’t know what to say or how to take a picture without looking creepy. I have seen pictures of men with a too small t-shirt that does not even cover their gut. Getting to know someone through a dating site or through a computer is kind of like going on a job interview. I recently was called a recruiter by someone I am talking to. I laughed, but he is right! I feel like a recruiter.

With a few clicks of a button and an uploaded picture people can put themselves out there for the world to see in all their vulnerable state. I have found most men on the dating sites are only looking for sex. They are so obvious and me being the smart ass I am I call them out on it. They laugh. Of course, there are plenty of married men too in sexually unsatisfied relationships who are only there for the kids. Depressing for sure, but really?

I am forty years old and I have had young men at the tender age of 18 wanting to go out with me. Begging to go out with me. I am not a cougar, but these young men have a hard time taking no for an answer until they finally get it and sulk away with their tale in between their legs like wounded animals. Honestly, an 18 year old and a 40 year old mom with kids really won’t have much to connect on. Even on a intimate physical level.

I have connected with some interesting people through internet dating. A man who was in a sexless marriage for years stayed until his kids went to college and now it’s his time to screw whoever and whenever. We bonded over similar pasts over lunch. It was exciting to meet someone new and have good conversation. We were not looking for the same thing as far as relationship, but it was great to meet someone new who I would never have met if it were not for a dating site.

I am an attractive woman and I know men find me attractive. However, men do not approach me. I have spoken to many men who say they don’t feel comfortable walking up to a woman and talking to her. I find this so sad. We hide behind computers and texts and e-mails. To truly connect with someone on a deep level one must talk on the phone and have face to face interaction. Anyone can say anything, even without a computer. I question how many failures does one must have online dating before they give up? Honestly speaking, how many failures does it take dating without the internet and technology before a person gives up? I have so much more to reveal and I look forward to sharing my experiences. I hope sharing my experiences will help others. Sharing is caring…

Over and out:)

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