2018-03-13 Fire 🔥 and Ice ❄️

I said upfront that it is what it is. Organic is a nice way to say unprocessed and unfiltered. That means that sometimes you get unfiltered awesomeness and sometimes it’s just rotten. Today I have a rant about my ex (husband) and if I remember before I’m done writing, I also want to contemplate a dream I had and what it might mean.

First, the ex. This guy! Flame 🔥 on!!

This guy who never cared about being a partner in parenting when our kids were small. This guy who was so career driven “for us” but found time to go out and drink and screw around when he was in town, yet didn’t have time to change a lightbulb or drive his kids to swim class.

This guy who was perpetually stuck in his 20s and wanted what he wanted and didn’t care until well after our divorce.

Having 30% responsibility for the kids when we separated was eye opening to him. He slowly realized how difficult things can be and also what rewards were also possible. Now he cherishes his children and they are his world, but that took a long time.

I remember the first time he texted that he was up all night with Z who was sick. I was all like “how is she now?” (And welcome to the real world, no shit it’s hard).

I went through years getting letters from the school about how my children were habitually tardy and he always said that it wasn’t him. He was always the master of convincing himself he was never to blame. I’m the data nerd, so I had the calendar with the schedule and crosschecked that with the detail reports I requested from the school. Surprise surprise, the kids were late on his mornings. I knew that already because I was rarely late.

Then we went through a phase where his vehicle wouldn’t start in the mornings. Despite it being at least 8 years newer than mine AND the same kind of car (Ford Escape), he would text and say “my car won’t start, can you take the kids?”. What was I supposed to do, say no?

He always made excuses.. and each time that was a reminder to me why were not married anymore. Over time (8 years this week actually), he’s gotten better, and now he has a job again and a girlfriend and takes more responsibility for things.

Every once in a while, though, I still get those reminders. This week Is his daughter’s Sweet 16 party which is a big deal to her, and I’m taking care of ALL of it, including hosting at my house and paying for everything. The only thing I physically can’t do is get 8 people to the escape room event and back. I asked for his help with carpool over two weeks ago and then confirmed again last week.

Then yesterday Z and I were picking something up at his house I’m the middle of the day, and he saunters out in his pajamas and comes up to my car window to say hi.

“I took the day off because I hate my job” he says. I conceal my eye roll by briefly looking down and then just smile and nod. I proceed to confirm the carpool again (because this is necessary) and I’m glad I did because he proceeds to tell me he can’t because he has a job interview IN DENVER. WTF??!

I’m really low on good alternatives. I’m not friends with the other parents and it’s short notice to take Work off early anyway. My sister is out of town and my other sister doesn’t have a car and I’ve got no friends close to this area of town. My parents aren’t close enough for it to be reasonable, but that’s my next best option.

He asked about Uber and I replied, “sure, I’m sure my dumping 3 teenage girls in a car with a complete stranger is going to go over really well… no!”.

This morning I requested he ask his girlfriend to help. She’s lived with him un officially for a while now and officially for the past several months. I think it’s not a stretch to ask. I forced his hand on it and she said yes, so now it’s all worked out. I’m still left feeling a little “WTF” though. Seriously.

There is so much more I could rant about, but perhaps that’s enough for now. I gotta turn down that flame so I can get to more important things, like how I almost died in a dream. It left me with icy chills. ❄️ I say “Almost” because when it happened, I woke up instantly!!

This was the night before last but you don’t experience something like that and forget it easily. I was with a few people at an event and the only one I remember was my step sister, Julie. We were looking up watching some event on tvs. There were multiple side by side screens like they have at the gym or at a sports bar mounted above where we were standing.

The screen on the right was showing some party outdoors with mountains covered in snow on the background. I had interest in this because I had family there too, or so I felt in my dream. It was too small to know for certain but I just felt it.

The scene didn’t last long. All at once you could see in the distance on the TV that there was an avalanche of snow coming down the mountain. At first it was small, and then in an instant it became massive and a spit second later, it overtook that party and I barely had time to consider the fact that my family was all crushed under that snow before a giant white mass came down upon us and where we were. Another instant later I woke with the fear of death in me. I was at that event and buried under an avalanche of snow and debris. I was terrified and it truly took me a few seconds to recognize it was a dream and I was fine. I didn’t really go back to sleep after that.

Like I said, that was yesterday but it’s still lingering in my brain. It happened so fast and what I just described is all I remember. I wonder what that could all mean?

No matter, time to get back to reality now and the party happening in a few hours here in Sunny Nebraska where there are no snow filled mountains! 😉

Flame 🔥 Off,

~Miss SugarCookie


2018-03-12 The Thin Mint Struggle

Welcome to a new week and we’re rolling into mid March like lambs and lions living together.. real pre-old testament stuff. Sooth sayers and Ceasar slayers, Shakespeare rising from his grave. Beware.. the mass hysteria.

The kids are already enjoying their spring break by staying up late on a Sunday and sleeping in. I’m back at the gym and the man in black is here in black and running on the last treadmill in the row. I’ve got Work to do and a party to prep for and everything feels right with the world.

Yesterday I crossed my heart about really digging my heels in and eating healthy this week and I’m doing it. I know what works and I know what I have to do. If I can make it through the candy and ice cream and potato chips and pizza that my darling daughter has planned for her party, I can make it through anything. It’s the ultimate test.

I know I can do it because I have before. After having babies my metabolism had shifted greatly and I could no longer eat whatever I wanted like I could in my teens and twenties. After having my Z I struggled greatly. I was heavier than ever before in my life and gaining instead of loosing. I really had to figure out what worked for me.

I can’t talk to People about this. They look at me and roll their eyes. I said something to my mom and she literally made a face at me and waved her hand up like “go away with that”. Thanks for the support mom. I’m thin, but the truth is, I’ve had to work to get back here and to maintain.

And if a person has gone through what I have, which is a whole other thing I need to dedicate a post to, then they would truly understand what I mean when I say “It never really leaves my mind”. The self image and body issues and feelings of not being worthy are real.

I might try to make a funny comment on twitter like “Thin mints have cookie issues too”, but underneath that is a contant struggle. It’s part of why I dedicate so much time to setting goals and keeping track of stats.

Unfortunately at this point, my healthy appetite for exercise is not going to do much more for me because food is the problem. Food is NOT the problem.. my choices are the problem. I’m my own worst enemy. I can be super motivated at the start of the day like now, but by late afternoon I’m saying “screw it, I’m having what I want”.

I think it’s tough for me because I don’t have external support. If I’m truly compiling a wish list for my ideal partner in life, this would be on it. I want someone who also wants to eat healthy and support me in my struggle. If I were to look at my two past long term relationships I see this…

The first one was a major contributing factor to the cause of my problems.

The second really didn’t support me at all. He knew, but was mostly annoyed every time I was trying some new “fad” thing. Low carb, gluten free, mini-fasts and unreasonable restrictions. When he heard about my Whole 30 from Josh, apparently he issued a major eye roll. Whatever.

Like I stated, there’s more but it’s worthy of some dedicated time and well thought out writing. So I’ll quit now.

Time to get my Monday on!

Let’s Do This,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-03-07 Exactly Sixteen Years Ago

Last night I could barely keep my eyes open past 9PM, I was so tired. I’m truly not sure what I was so tired from, because I barely did anything at all yesterday. I didn’t really work and did mostly running around shopping for my Z and a little writing. Dinner with the kids and my mom and her husband for Z’s bday at Texas roadhouse, and then back home. I tried to read and my eyes were literally blurring the words on the page. I think that is a combination of being tired and just getting older. Nothing is what it used to be, but that is another topic for a different day.

It’s now 2:22 AM and I’ve just gone AMA (my own) and taken half a Xanax because I just can’t deal with a sleepless night right now with so much that needs to get happen tomorrow and the remainder of the week. Funny the way it is, when there is a lull, I can sleep just fine, but as soon as things start getting a little hectic that’s when the insomnia monster rears its ugly head. Of course, it is always when one needs it the most. As a consequence of the medicine, I may not (will hopefully not) be writing long.

The main topic at hand is my Z and her 16th birthday today!! Today is one of those days that’s nice to look back on previous years. Just before I started writing, I read my blog post from last year and sure enough, that day all came rushing back to me. Right now, though, in the middle of the night and all alone, I’m inclined to think further back than that to 16 years ago when I woke around midnight to go to the bathroom and my water broke.

By 1AM we were probably in the hospital all checked in and by this time, around 2:30, I was heavy into having contractions and probably still under the delusion that I was going to give birth “naturally”. That is, without pain meds. Laughable.

By 2ish, I was becoming increasingly aware of just how bad labor pains really could be. You hear stories, but you just never know. Everyones pain threshold is relative too so you really just can’t gauge it until you feel it for yourself. It was bad. So that is where I was at Exactly Sixteen Years Ago, right this very minute.

By 3 I think I caved and asked for something to help and they gave me some sort of oral med to “take the edge off”, which only made me feel super loopy and didn’t even touch my pain. After that, I was a hot mess. Brian’s parents showed up and in my heightened emotional state I started to cry and demand they leave immediately. I had requested they not be there so why they decided to come anyway in the middle of the night was beyond me. I didn’t want my parents there either, but they respected my wishes and waited until after Z was born to grace us with their presence.

Maybe around 4 or 5 I finally got an epidural, I am not quite sure what time it was, but I was in so much pain, I didn’t even feel that giant needle going in. The only thing I remember was that what followed was sweet relief and I was pissed at myself for being so stubborn and waiting so long. The few hours between then and delivery in the 8 o’clock hour were not memorable, thank goodness.

There’s more details I could share, but honestly, “aint nobody got time for that”.

It’s a little tough for me to believe that the very same 6 pound, 6 ounce baby girl they placed into my arms that morning is now 16 and almost an adult. She’s an amazing person and so full of love and life. She’s a talented artist, intelligent, beautiful, sassy, and very, very thoughtful. I could not ask for a better person to call my “princess pudding pie”.

Today will be a pretty routine day for us with going out to dinner again tonight being the only celebratory event (apparently, celebrations always revolve around food). Tomorrow is when her and I really get into putting our party hats on, because we’re both taking the day off to spend time together doing whatever she wants to do. Just the two of us. I look forward to that every year.

Perhaps we will take a walk down memory lane together and go through her baby books and oogle over how incredibly cute she was. We’ll see what kind of mood she is in.. you never know with teenagers. She might want to sleep until noon and then just go shopping for the afternoon. /Shrug

Anyway, I should let the meds take over now and try and sleep. Getting some of these thoughts down in words will hopefully help release my mind so I can get quality sleep for the rest of the night and be refreshed tomorrow to do “all the other things”.

Sleepy in Nebraska,
~Miss SugarCookie

2018-02-12 The Open Book

I’m an open book waiting for someone to pick a page and start reading. I’m waiting for the sweetest bookmark a girl could ever ask for. I’m waiting for something to write another page about. Oh man… what a way to start a Monday morning! For real.

This week I’m going to try and get my act together and finish my self study on AWS EC2 and get to the end of two books on my suggested reading list. That’s pretty lofty considering my pace so far. But if there is one thing I know about myself, it’s that if I set a goal I’m pretty determined about hitting it. The Whole 30 was a perfect example.

This is the LAST anyone will ever read from me On the subject. I said I wS going to do a whole post with my final analysis on the subject, but like 2016, I’m so over it and never want to think about it again.

I committed to 30 days eating nothing but Whole Foods with a ton of restrictions in order to do a dietary reset. After the first 7 days I didn’t want to be doing it anymore but stuck it out till the end anyhow. And for what? Apparently nothing. Ok. Not nothing.

The positives…

1. I discovered I can eat eggs every day and I still love them.
2. I proved I could do it.
3. I learned how to cook about a half a dozen new super tasty meals that are healthy.
4. I crossed doing anything remotely like this off my list fo-eva!

For funsies, here’s a list of things I have previously done and concluded I will never do again…

1. Participate in a hack-a-thon. Mmmmm… nope. Not unless the prize is like 7 days and nights at some bucket list destination. Then perhaps.

2. Climb a fourteener. Never again. I’ve never been so pushed past my physical limitations in all my life. Ok.. maybe if I was training to be on Survivor or something. But only that.

3. Any 24 hour long event. Like that 24 hour long game-a-thon I participated in for charity a few years ago. To deprive ones self of sleep that way is just pure ridiculousness. At hour 22 we started playing a D&D sort of game and that was madness. (Me and my sick Magi skills still kicked ass though).

4. Push another baby out of my vagina. Sorry for the graphic but that’s just to stress the gravity and reality of bearing children. Don’t get me wrong, being pregnant was amazing and I’ve often thought I would love to be pregnant again but… not delivery and, uh, not taking care of babies ever again. Not my jam.

5. Any water sport where drowning is even a remote possibiluty. Near death experiences will do that to a person.

I think that’s it. Anything else I’d be open to trying or trying again. So I guess I’m pretty much an open book in that respect too.
Time to commit another page to the story.

Peace and Love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2018-02-11 Just a Times New Roman Girl with an Affinity for Starting Fires

Most of the time when I start to write, I’m writing about what happened yesterday or today or what might happen tomorrow. It’s my current stream of consciousness thats pouring out my fingertips and sometimes I know where I want to start and where it will end and sometimes I have no idea. If I know, then I already have a title in mind but if I don’t know or as I write it turns and goes a whole different direction, I go back and think of a new title when I’m done.

Today I am compelled to write about something because of what I read when I woke up in the middle of the night last night. As I laid in my bed, I did what I am sure all single girls do when they can’t sleep.. I checked Slack, and email, and social media (not necessarily in that order). There was a notification in my email in-box for a new post from a friend of mine which I always enjoy reading.

Contrary to my droning on and on about my life and times in the here and now, his posts are mostly historical accounts of his life. It’s funny how you can be friends with someone and chat them up about current events and maybe never really know them. I talk too much, I’m sorry.

Things revealed about a persons past are very telling. They are a major contributing factor to who that person is today because if they didn’t go through all that stuff, they would be different. Their lives would be completely different and maybe that means you never would have met them at all. It’s a concept that is little too twisted to contemplate for long but it is a factor none the less. We could dwell in the “what if” world when thinking about the past, but that’s not productive either so probably the best thing we can do is stop once and a while to acknowledge it out of respect and recognize those moments that played a part in making us who we are.

So this post is a head nod at little bits of my own past, so I can read what I wrote when I am 75 and remember…

I’ve been journaling and writing poetry since about 7th or 8th grade but I also really liked burning candles and starting fires. We moved a lot when I was a kid because my parents were divorced and my mom was quite swayed by her relationships and most of the time when we moved it was because of that.

She dated and married a guy and we moved into his house. She divorced him and we moved out. She got a better job and bought a house. She dated another guy and we moved into his house. They got married and bought a house together and we moved again. That was all in the span of about 5 or 6 years. My Jr. High and High School years.

One of the houses we lived in had a real fireplace which I thought was pretty much the bomb. Of all the houses we lived in, that one was my favorite (it was also the only one that was in-between marriage 2 and 3 where no boyfriend or husband was involved). There were four of us kids so my option, as a freshman in high school, was to either share a room with my two sisters (8 and 1 years old), or live in the sun room. I chose to live in the sun room. It was less like a porch and more like an addition to the house and the room had nice carpet and windows and came complete with both a stand up piano and an organ left by the guy we rented the place from. I couldn’t play, but I thought it was super cool anyhow. That room was my sanctuary and where I did a LOT of writing. It’s also where I burned a lot of candles.

Back then I didn’t have the foresight to recognize how important that writing would be to me. I was an emotional teenager who struggled in the silence of my own little world because my parents were too preoccupied by their own agendas which didn’t really include us much. I didn’t really rely on my friends much for the heavy stuff either probably because I didn’t think they would understand. In 10th grade I connected with Stacey who I knew did. She was a year younger than I was and in band. I feel compelled to write about that relationship too, but it deserves way more than just a tangent here.

Anyhow, I wrote hundreds of pages in notebooks to work through everything. It was journaling, poetry, even short stories. The main characters in those stories were always teenage girls who were suicidal. I wasn’t, but maybe that’s because I had that outlet to release those kinds of thoughts. I don’t know.

I lost most of what I wrote back then to the fire. Not like a house fire or anything as dramatic as that. It was fires I would start in our fireplace on Saturday nights when I was babysitting and my mom was out on dates. I’d have an emotional moment and get pissed off at my life and throw those pages into the fire. So… poof.. they literally went up in smoke.

That went on until we moved into the house of the man who would become my moms 3rd husband. He didn’t have a fireplace and he had really strict rules. I hated him.

I eventually had to leave because of that. Or I got kicked out.. I don’t really remember.

Can you imagine kicking out your eldest daughter, who didn’t drink or party or hang out with the wrong people? A girl who was in honors classes and excelled at school and was into cheer and drama and choir? No.. me neither, but that was the situation. It’s probably because I stopped babysitting when I finally started dating and coming home after curfew.

I know my mom regrets all that very deeply now, but at the time that is what she chose. It may have been for the best though because that man was willing to take my infant sister as his own and help raise her. She turned out really great and is now a shining light in my life and one of my best friends. So I’m glad she had a father. See.. that’s a case for something rotten that I went through, yet my life is better for it.

Here’s a few more relevant facts for posterity…

1. My favorite childhood movie was The Dark Crystal by Jim Henson, it’s superb.

2. My favorite movie as an adolescent was Dead Poets Society. Yes really.

3. My favorite movie in my 20’s was Shawshank Redemption.

4. Til Kingdom Come by Coldplay will forever be the song that reminds me of the day my 17 year marriage officially came to an end.

5. My favorite font is Times New Roman.

6. I still like to start fires and having a real fireplace was a prerequisite when I bought the house I live in now. I never use my pages as kindling and almost everything I write now is electronic.

I think that’s enough looking back now. Time to turn around and look today in the eye.

Let’s Do This Sunday Thing,

~Miss SugarCookie

PS. 45,000+ songs is a shit ton!! I thought my 7k was a lot! If you like Smashing Pumpkins and don’t know Silversun Pickups, check them out. I highly recommend. 😊

2018-02-10 Finding Inspiration and Motivation

So far today I’m pretty uninspired. I was awake by 6am and did a little gathering of statistics for Work and then got my daughter up for drivers ed this morning.

The class is 5 hours in the classroom today followed by 2 hours behind the wheel with an instructor this afternoon. That’s a full day of responsibility for her, but she wanted it. She didn’t seem to care what she had to do to get that little piece of plastic next month on her birthday. And despite it being so early on a Saturday, when she would normally sleep until 11am, she hasn’t complained or said one negative thing. I’m quite impressed.

I was the opppsite at her age. I was unmotivated to put in effort to do anything that was even halfway an inconvenience to me. I took drivers ed as a class in HS when I was a jr. And didn’t get my license until I was like 17 and a half. I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about working either. I followed in my older brothers footsteps in getting a job at a local buffet when I was 16. I worked there a total of like six weeks and then quit. I discovered pretty quickly that I didn’t want to work until I absolutely had to. That ended up being the summer after my senior year of HS.

I think motivation is so internal and tough to find externally. It has to be more ingrained in your person and less a thing you can just choose to have if you don’t have those feels. Z definitely has the feels.

She wants to get a job right away this summer. She wants to work and make money and alleviate her summer boredom. I’m pretty sure that will stick.

Ok… I just received an inspiration injection shot! There’s a fabulous trio to my left on the treadmills. Yes!!

Ib this order.. 1) The man in black. 2) Dude in a camo muscle shirt and 3) Bird girl! Ahh the return of bird girl. I haven’t seen her for about 2 weeks. I miss her outfits and I’ve only seen two.

Today she’s wearing jeans (yes, running on a treadmill at the gym) and a spaghetti strap tank that’s got so much bling it looks like it belongs in the club getting low-low-low-low. I actually really dig today’s getup. I would wear that… but… umm.. not to the gym.

Her and the man in black have already outlasted camo and now it’s an endurance challenge to see who will outlast who. My gold monopoly Benjamin’s are on my personal favorite.. the man of few words and fewer colors.

I keep smiling at him when we cross paths but he doesn’t seem to even glance in my direction. Such a shame. I also haven’t been close enough to see if he’s wearing a wedding ring. I know I’m ridiculous but guess what “I don’t care.. I love it. I love it!”.

So inspiration can be both generated internally and externally. I’m not sure which one is stronger for me. This morning it seems to be external. I’ll take it!

It’s a short set for me today cuz imma hit a Jazzercise class at 9:30. It will be my first one all week. That work stuff is really cramping my style! I also am coming up on two whole weeks without seriously working on my MFA stuff so I gotta Work on my balancing skills. Soon. Now?

Time to Jazz!

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-02-09 The Return Of Hope

It was a day like any other. Little did I know when it began that in the end it would go down in history as the one where everything changed.

That’s pretty good right? Doesn’t it just make you want to find out what happens next? Or is it so overused and cliche and lost in a pile of 1000 other things that went on in any given day that altered the course of things? And who really cares about the possible states of being? It’s all just one parallel universe stacked up next to another.

If that thing never happened it would all be different, but how much do you dwell there after the fact? Probably not a lot. You just go on today toward tomorrow doing what you do. You live your life in the best way you know how to. I do too.

Nothing life-altering happened yesterday but perhaps today is the day.

I don’t have a crystal ball either, but I’m afflicted by hopeless romanticism. I just can’t fucking help it. You know, that’s how I was built and I can’t change that. I really haven’t wanted to.

I once had a “friends with benefits” relationship with a guy. (I can’t even say “dated” anymore because I’m eternally confused about the definition of that.) it was about 6 months long, arguably, and in the end, after he had already opted out for another girl and subsequently came back, I opted out for another guy.

He warned this other guy about me. That I was looking for poines and rainbows and a perfect sunset sky complete with a fairy tale happy-ever-after. Those are my words and not his and that’s how I remember it. But I’m not just remembering it now.. I wrote about it then and it has stayed with me for seven years.

It has been a thought lingering in the back of my brain from the moment I started seeing that other guy through the end of that relationship and right up to this very minute.

I think about how it’s spot on but not a complete picture by any stretch of the imagination. Seven years ago my written retort to his comments were “yeah, but what girl wouldn’t want those things?” I’m sure there are some who don’t but my guess is that most do at least on some level.

To round things out though, I’m not that two dimensional. I don’t just want all those warm fuzzies from something wonderful, I’m also looking for someone to walk beside me in the tough moments. Someone I can help up when they fall and someone to help me up too. Life can be so long and boring and shitty at times and I recognize that. It’s not a fairy tale. That was the inspiration for this…  “Long Talks and Sidewalks”  which is the one I have pinned to the top of my public poetry collection (and of course where I ask not to be brought cut flowers 😉).

At the end of that last relationship I wrote another one,“My Perfect Sunset Sky”. This highlights the fact that I DID expect something that was not sustainable/possible between us in the way of building that life together. I did want more and he was not capable of that kind of a commitment. I think that and the breakdown in communication between us were the two main reasons that had to end.

That conveniently allows me to put the lion’s share of the blame on him. But I’m the one writing this history book, so it’s my prerogative to draw my own conclusions and set them into words.

It’s Friday again and I don’t know what the day will bring, but I’m hopeful. The ending of that relationship temporarily stripped me of hope for the future. I remember laying drunk and alone at the top of the stairs at my house last year thinking that was it. I was destined for never finding someone for me again. I cried so hard and I screamed at the Universe for cursing me (drunk SugarCookies do that).

I struggled for several months and hit the lowest point in my life (and I’ve been through some shitty things). It took just about all of 2017 for me to regain my sense of hope. I feel like I’m back now.. and better than ever! Today could be the day where everything changes… and it’s time to go live it so I can find out. 😊

Hopelessly hopeful and loving it!
~Miss SugarCookie