July 31st


was made aware of today’s date at my shrink’s office. The receptionist looked at me, then her computer screen.

“It’s not the 1st, is it?”

Her awkward smile, pause, then shook her head no.

After I woke early & drove there, making Hub late . . . A day early.

Yup. Definitely need vyvanse.

Today, I fear, may be a real adventure.


Joy: the opposite of me today. Diva went 3 kinds of berzerk at the orthopedist’s office. Then got prescribed more steroids to combat the inflamation. If this doesn’t work, then epidural injections, which I am NOT ready for. So I will take my meds & no lifting Diva. Not stellar news. Not winning, by any means.

We had a rough night, Diva waking at 3AM, her head caught in our bed frame, then I was on a quest to find a clean pacifier . . . Pain kept me up till 4. Up at 7, so she was napping before 11.

Boo is still at his dad’s & I will be at Shrink’s office when he comes home in the morning. And I love his early am hugs.

I spent an hour touching base with my Cub Scout Committee members, & while we are still reeling from losing 4 great leaders (moved up to Boy Scouts), I get resignation e-mails from 2 families. Not quite the “W” I was hoping for. Moving on, in search of happy. We read 2 books, then point & sound words in a 3rd book before Diva is done working today.

Then, while making plans with our district head for our upcoming meeting & this school year, Diva helped herself to YaYa’s Japanese souvenirs.

She has been especially active today, but exceptionally cute. I got her really talking today. She is really trying, & the kid can sing, or rather carry a tune while making babbling toddler sounds.

My entire back is hurting, but better when laying down. I have washed 7 loads of laundry in the last 3 days. And I will be done for a month . . . Or I can do one load a day. (Just thinking out loud.) The 8th load is drying now . . . But I have 1/2 load-worth, perhaps more, in the bathroom floor. I suddenly realize – we have too many damn clothes!! Diva’s I have donated all she has out grown. And still, she takes up half a rack! Need to do the same with Boo, as I really don’t think he has 100 shirts that all fit him. Have we really bought that many shirts in the last 11 months? Geez. Surely not.

As for the real problem – me & Hub (aka: YaYa). Over the years, we have each amassed several types of items, with varried styles & sizes of each; formal, dress, business casual, casual, and gym – from grunge to uptight & every flavor in between. My husband has an entire rack of slacks. What? My shoes are somewhere in storage, which makes me sad all over. Dayum. I need some Vyvanse . . . Bad. Sorry – ADHD has me jumping back & forth.

*Back to topic of joy*

My feeling like a total loser stopped abruptly, though. Diva asked, demanded, actually, to call her grandparents tonight.  You wanna hear unspoken joy? Listen closely to your parents voice when they speak & while they listen intently, to their grandchild babble on the phone. Suddenly I was full of win. Full of success. Full of happy. I helped make four people’s night. And Boo texted me goodnight. That is what it’s about.

Shit always happens. There will be losses. Some days are gonna suck ass. And sometimes, you’re hard up for anything to just go right for 2 whole minutes. But keep perspective. OCD makes perspective a real hard thing to find. Call someone out of the blue, & in making their day/night, their joy or simple appreciation, should be enough to help you find your way back to happy. Or at least gain perspective, which is on the pathway to happy.

I can never be like my obsessions say I should be. But by God, I can be happy. And dammit, I am gonna be happy!! Even if my toes are numb. I have done a whole shitload right. Today. This week, month, & year. Hell the last 39 years.

Life is short. Get your happy, bitches!

Sincere apologies

I, once again, have shrunk into a radio silence, & I truly apologize to all of you. I hate beginning with an apology, but I believe that when one is deserved, it must be said. I am learning that. I tend to give my loved ones back-handed apologies, rather than accept the blame. No excuses. I blog, and try to daily, even a quick blurb, just something, & I failed.

First off, I am in desperate need of my Vyvsnse. I have been all over the board, and just cannot seem to slow down. As I wrote those two sentences, I could feel a dozen or so thoughts pushing their way to the front of the line, shoving & shouting “me next”. My thoughts are like a room full of kindergarteners waiting to go outside, or to sit on Santa’s lap. It has become gradually more difficult to function, and so my obession with lists is being fed by my utter dependence on them.

New diet for me & Hub, which means a healthy lifestyle we will be teaching our kids. He & I have set out to each lose 30lbs. In the past 4 days I have lost 6, so I’m pretty happy. As of yesterday, Hub 4. Not a crash diet, either. A new way of looking at food. Not as comfort,  but instead as fuel for our bodies. What are the essentials we must have? And for me, while still appearing & tasting fantastic. And I’ve said goodbye to my daily homage to wine. And for my one & a half cocktail yesterday, I needed to burn some extra calories if I hoped to eat dinner. We have begun using an ap called “Lose It”, & it is amazing. I highly recommend it.

Since turning 30 with the birth of my son, I have behun to understand the struggle most people have with weight. Up to that point, I was clueless. I could eat as much of anything I wanted, & still wear children’s clothing. I was a 00 in adult clothing. I remember after delivering my son asking my OBG what “that” was, jabbing at a flabby abdomen. He looked at my now ex-husband, then back at me and said, “remember how I kept telling you to slow down on eating? Well, that my dear – is fat.” I remember a panic washing over me. It took 3 hard years to get & keep it off, & by my 2nd marriage, I was back into a 0.  I will be happy if I can get to a 4 again. And that is my goal. I have a very small bone structure, & that is the size I should be.

My GREAT uncle Doug died this past week. He was my mom’s uncle, but they were so close in age, he was more like my uncle. He was deployed during Desert Storm when I was in High School, & so we became pen pals to keep up his moral. He thought I should be his uncle, as our family didn’t keep with formal titles, so me addressing him as a “great” was just fodder for his older brothers and his platoon that he was the “great” uncle. And he was. He was quick witted, & balls out. He was always cracking jokes, & I only saw him solemn once, for about 2 minutes when my grandfather died. He had a slow Oklahoma drawl, & the things that came out of his mouth just made you laugh or shake your head.

Our last conversation ended with me promising to come visit so he could meet my new husband & son. His health was too bad for him to make the drive to Texas. The next year, Diva had just been born, so a 4 hour drive would be too hard for us. I thought we had more time. His death was sudden & unexpected. It has been too much for me to handle. He & his wife never had much, & lived very simply. He was cremated before I could say goodbye. Which broke a little chunk of my heart when I found out last night. I wanted to flop on the bed & cry . . . But Diva needed me to be Mommy. So I did. He wouldn’t want a big fuss. Hell, he wouldn’t want a fuss at all. He was the only child out of 10 siblings that didn’t have children. He wanted to adopt his wife’s son, but the tribal elders (Native American) forbid it.

When my mother called me early Friday morning, I began crying. Boo began asking if I was ok. I couldn’t answer. He came over & hugged me. I finally told him my uncle had died, and he & Diva both gave me a hug.

He is becoming a young man. I watch in amazed wonder. How did he get here? Wasn’t he fitting in my hand just a few days ago? Didn’t he just ask me if he really had to grow up, crying that he never wanted to leave me? Nine, in just over a month away? Third grade in mere weeks? Multiplication & cursive? This one big year is here. He is starting to have leg hair. And using deodorant & face product. It is going to be an emotional year.  So each remaining day of this summer will be swimming & playing. And we have homework every night (to get him back in the swing of things). And I have Cub Scouts to get ramped up.

But before that – vacation!! I booked a hotel on the Riverwalk. This will be our first family vacation. Even Diva is excited. Yes, we should be saving for a house. Fuck it. YOLO! And I want our lives to be fillled with happy & happy memories more than things. We can buy a less expensive home. But this year, this vacation, we will all look back & remember. I still have a lot of planning to do.

It would be easy & understandable for me to maintain some radio silence, but I gotta get my happy – even in the chaos. And to remind you to grab yours, too. Life is precious, & we never know when our time is up, or worse, your best friend, or favorite uncle. So I encourage you to treat your body better, & make time for the ones you love, not excuses. And start good habits & family traditions.

I had a lot of happy stored up when I got handed the info about the “already cremated” bit last night. Diva’s godmother had popped by for a 2 hour swim yesterday. It was great to see her & hear all her family plans going on.

Write an actual letter to friends too far to visit, or skype with relatives. They are worth it. Because when they are gone, you will have gotten it all in. No regrets.

Peace to you all.


Yup. This place is such a mess, I finally snapped. Have been throwing away toys & tying up cables. My friggin’ eye is twitching because I just can’t take this mess.

Taking away all toys. Will be installing shelving around the whole living room before Diva gets her toys back. This living room is ridiculous, & I will not allow it any more. She’s a little slob. Guess it’s better than having OCD, but the two just don’t mix.  Shrink at 4 today. Yeah.  Because kids keep undoing what I’m doing.

Oh hell.

That moment when you meltdown in front of your kids & make a violent arm flail . . . And the google remote flies loose . . . Launched through the air accidentally. Boo looked at me & shouts, “I’m telling!” 

“It was an accident!” I exclaimed, before we both burst into tears laughing so hard. Sometimes, happy just happens. Even in the middle of a meltdown. Go with it. Toys are still getting taken away, but with less anger. I will deal with my punishment when Hubs gets home, but for now . . . Gonna go clean & play.

Peace bitches!

Yeah. Good to know


Good to know, indeed.  However, for those of us without the luxury of that filter, shit just comes out. My ex called it diahrea of the mouth, & I had it. Still do. Fuck it. Shit happens.

Happy is a real possibility!!

I met with my new shrink today. Not some idiot physician assistant flunkee, either. One who’s been practicing for decades. Her book shelves were filled with reference encyclopedias & medical books, not touchy-feely books by Dr. Phill & Christian authors. Her office was comfy & well lit. She kicked off her shoes & made notes. She asked detailed questions & listened to my responses, rather than lead my answers & jump to conclusions, & push pills. She asked about my anxiety, & my triggers. She asked about my outbursts. Then she asked to speak to my husband as well to further evaluate me & get a better picture. Not sure what exactly got me classified as “extreme OCD” on the spectrum, but that’s where I landed. 

And, surprise! She agreed wholeheartedly that my ADHD is a much lesser issue, & hinted that may just be a deeper symptom of my OCD, as a way my brain copes with anxiety. Hmmm. So yes, I’m loving her so far. 

She prescribed a pill specifically designed to treat OCD! Are you serious? There’s medicine to help the receptor uptake? Oh My God!! The light at the end of the tunnel may not be a freight train after all.

I still have 2 to 3 more evaluations to get through to see what therapy/therapist will work for me, but I have hope I’m not going to continue to struggle alone, suffer in silence, & continue to fight for my fucking happy, while alienating everyone who loves me because I’d rather not be bothered.

She asked me to read up on OCD before our next session, & extreme OCD. But when I asked if she thinks she can help me, she replied she believes she can, & she is sure gonna try. The tone in her voice & her expression assured me she was sincere, but that she herself understands this will be a challenge.  So, BALLS OUT, I will try. And by God, I’m gonna give it my all!!

And so, my journey begins. And I’m dragging ya’ll along.  In hopes none of you suffering ever feel alone or helpless, or hopeless. For those not battling OCD, sit back, cuz I’m 8-kinds of crazy.

Peace bitches! Nothin’ but love for ya!!

Flashing yellow

What does it mean? Hit the gas & pray? That’s what one man assumed today. Guess his god wasn’t listening. Thankfully, my God was.

I was taking Boo to his dad. They were heading to my ex-step-son’s graduation. And it was a lovely (but humid) June afternoon.  And at a busy intersection in north Plano, one man in a Nissan sedan decided he “didn’t get the concept” of a flashing yellow arrow. I saw him approaching the intersection at full speed, as the truck directly in front of me had a green light,  and I just screamed, “JESUS CHRIST, NO!”  Followed by the trucks bumper & rear tires being jarred into the air, then resting silently on the pavement.

Nobody honked. Stunned. As other cars kept buzzing by unphased & unstopping.

I gotta give props to my Jaguar XF Portfolio. I went from 50 mph to zero in 4 feet. Holy shit!, right? Uhh. Can you say, loyal Jag owner FOR LIFE?

The intercection is a major one, so I pulled over into the gas station, & called 911. I was the only witness who bothered to call & stay on the line till help came. I had Boo & Diva with me, so I couldn’t jump out & render aid, but I did the only thing I could. Remember, it’s June, in Texas, & 95° outside, without heat index, so leaving them in a car is NOT an option, nor is dragging out the stroller & walking up to strangers in shock with 2 small children.  So . . . After I see the lights coming, we head off, shaken, but unscathed. Thanks to the Big JC & my phenomenal Jag.

I was just pulling in the driveway when my phone rang. It was an officer calling me back to get my statement. I explained why I couldn’t render aid, & he let me know there were no injuries, thankfully. I told him we had a green light. A few cars had gone through the light & I saw the Nissan heading for the turn & was bracing for impact, but miraculously, we avoided the crash. He told me the driver admitted to seeing a flashing yellow arrow, but didn’t understand it meant he didn’t have right of way.

My heart goes out to the man and boy in the truck, though. It appeared they were father & son. The younger-looking, teen was crying & visibly upset & the older man was embrasing him, like only a parent can.  As we passed, we saw the T-boned Nissan’s air curtains, but none in the truck. Again, I was so relieved no injuries.

So, my point? Slow down. Not just so you have enough time to process the truck that’s about to T-bone your ass, but to understand that flashing yellow arrow in life: Caution; proceed with caution.

Life can not only change in an instant, but goes by way too fucking fast. My son is now in 3rd grade, & I’m sitting here at an obviously green light (metaphorically), wondering what happened to the last 5 years. He’s not 3, any more. Not by a looong stretch.

Just slow down when you can. And try to pay attention to what – and find a way to filter out the bullshit that keeps us all from seeing really matters – the big, happy picture.

Peace to all my ADHD & OCD bitches. And my sincere congrats to the class of 2014!

Running through a muddy field

Ever try to run through a muddy field? Your feet get bogged down, you’re quickly covered in mud from head-to-toe, & the more mud on your shoes, the harder it becomes to lift your feet, m7ch less continue running.  That seems to be the theme of my life. The harder I try, the more difficult it is to move forward. Each day drags on, while I recognize my life passing me by. This is my brain. This is my world.

I know this will all pass, in time, but for now it sucks. Again, I am clinging to any & all happy that crosses my path. “The ‘storms’ of life”. Yeah, not so much. Just struggling to find peace while exercising patience. And that’s going over like a pregnamt hurdler with a lead balloon.

However, I am embarking on a new challenge (I just thought of it) 5 things everyday that bring me a slice of happy. Doesn’t have to be a whole cake, I’ll even take the crumbs. Just 5 things everyday.

Today: I got to bathe myself!! Alone! Huge win. I did a load of dishes. Dinner was easy & delicious. Boo actually waited till I had my keys in hand before opening the door (huge OCD panic attack otherwise) & he pointed out he did it to help me NOT spaz out, and finally, my #5- Hub came home & kept Diva while I drove Boo to jiujitsu class & I didn’t have to wait on the ex this time, so fartman didn’t get me. Yeah. *Jack White’s new song sounded STELLAR blaring in the Jag – BONUS!

Sometimes, you gotta look & just be greatful for those rays of sunshine while you’re mired in the mud.

Peace, bitches!

If you’ve seen the movie, you know what I’m talking about. I have three bosses. Can’t get fired. And am ready to just unhinge everything I don’t like, then walk the fuck out – like a boss.

Wouldn’t that be awesome? But I live on a little bubble I like to call reality. It’s a bitch. Daily.

But, I have my next dental cleaning, my bloodwork (cholesterol check), new shrink, Hub’s bloodwork (bp check), & Diva’s speech evaluation all scheduled . . . So, June should be fun. Here, let me pour another glass of wine & settle in while the clothes dryer finishes.

Still have to get the Scout Pack Committee to meet, and outline key dates, since I’m Committee chair (no, it didn’t mean what I thought when I agreed to it). And make sure our boys assist in 5th grade graduation (is that REALLY an accomplishment?) And don’t get me started on the chores. And the never-ending to-do list. Combined with Diva’s screaming, Boo always drumming on or bouncing something, the tv always too fucking loud, and lights left on, things not done, projects incomplete . . . And wasn’t I writing a book? Oh yeah, the house. We have to finish paying off the last remaining debt, then start building a FUCKING HOUSE!! And my ex husband drones on & on about this & that & this & that.

Let me continue this vision of my reality: good friend is moving to Arizona (lucky bitch!), another friend misses me & I just don’t have the time, a family friend died, an aunt is now in a psych ward after her 2nd suicide attempt in as many weeks, my dad is battling cancer & waiting on results from 2 tests & a PET Scan.  Oh yeah, hell is a lot less warm than I had imagined. And I’m really just giving you the “overview.”  And my OCD/ADHD brain cannot process it. I just can’t seem to filter thoughts anymore than what comes outta my damn mouth.

So. What can I do? One thing at a time. Yeah. Suck my dick. Go eat a bag of potato chips – one chip an hour. If you don’t have it, you don’t get it.

I will continue to try – every mother fucking day – to just be alive. I will welcome happy at every chance. I will embrace this chaos. And starting June 9th, I’m going to walk out, LIKE A BOSS, & and be a kid with my kids. Story time at the library, tent forts in the living room, & swimming in the pool. We did the last homework of 2nd grade (that’s getting fucking done) tonight. He’s already been promoted, so kiss my ass. I am done being his warden.

Oh wait. Fuuuuuuuck. I have to make him read & work on his handwriting ober the summer. Oh well. We’ll work while Diva naps – after the pool. Win-win. Yeah. I have a plan.  Uuugh. Vacation. I was supposed to plan vacation 2 months ago.

Happy? Happy? You motherfucker. Where the hell are you? You bastard.

Fuck it. Laundry is about done. Bout to get my sleep on. Wine’s kicking in. Diva’s in her crib. I’m out.

Go find your happy, & drag it’s ass back, like a boss, & enjoy it. Everything else can wait to annoy you until you’re done with happy.

Peace, bitches!


Anything is possible?

Yeah, they say anything is possible. If you believe. If you have faith. If you’re patient. With God. And it just goes on & on. I must say, I have become a sceptic & a bit cynical over the past few years. The optimistic, hopeful romantic has kinda died, giving birth to a realist.

I kinda miss that naive, blissful happy. Being a grownup sucks. Life isn’t the way I envisioned. And for the life of me, I can’t fix it. I have to patiently wait for life to unfold. That, for me, sucks even worse than being a grownup.

Ever just wanna run to your old bedroom, the one filled with stuffed animals & toys, and pounce on your strawberry-shortcake comforter- covered bed & listen to The Go-Go’s on your record-player & be 7 again? Hard times just seem to suck worse when you’re pushing 40.

Ever notice that when one setback happens, everything else that can go wrong does so at the exact same time? Even shit that you forgot about. Not to mention getting blind-sided by a host of other things that weren’t even on your radar? 

My ADHD brain is in full-effect, yet again. My mental checklist has overloaded. I need a 1000-page spiral notebook for my “to do today list,” and realize bitching ain’t getting me any closer to accomplishing any of them. So, I will grab a small spiral, & begin my list.

Diva, when she hugs me, or looks into my eyes and smiles . . . Oh, that is my big happy. I wish my son was able to be that kind of happy. For longer than 2 minutes/day. He is at the difficult age of 8. Not yet a tween, and not a little kid. I watch him struggle to find an identity, a safe place, a place to belong, and it hurts, mainly because I’ve been there. We all have.

When the magic seems to disappear from childhood. The rose-color glasses become a tad less rosey. And I find myself choking on my own selfish need for him to always be my baby. Did I mention being a grownup sucks? Letting him be free to grow up is so difficult. How tight is too tight? How loose is too loose?

These are the things that keep me up at night, haunt me while I sleep, and shadow me all day.

Ok. Cleaning the place up while Diva is taking a nap will at least occupy me more than Pet Rescue Saga, & help declutter my brain with busy work, as cleaning will be an accomplishment, which leads to happy, did you see that squirrel?? Bwahahaha. ADHD moment. Go be happy.

Peace, bitches.

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