It’s a quiet evening. My kids played their sports today. I did the mom thing. You know where you get the kids to the fields with all their crap, your chair to watch, the dogs, the baby, the umbrella the Starbucks, (yes the Starbucks) and you sit down and realize you forgot your phone, or sunglasses or sunblock? Yes to all of the above. You look down to remove your flip flop to put your toes in the warm soft grass and realize your flip flop has baby puke on it, causing you to look at the baby and then look at the trail of puke running from her perfect smile all down your front when THAT mom (you know the mom) walks up to you to hand you the snack schedule. Her and her snack schedule that is printed on her personalized stationary with her little C for Crissy or something prissy at the top. You know, the puke free paper. Pissy I mean Crissy looks at your baby and says, “What a beautiful baby girl, I sure don’t miss THOSE days as she sees the puke that is running down your miss buttoned shirt. This my friends is Karma. Karma has taken a big huge bite out of my ass for having my shit together a year ago at the football fields and being a Crissy. This newborn thing, (okay she is five months old) is harder at 40 than it was at 26. I promise when my Crissy status returns to offer to hold, help and tell my puke covered stories to the moms that look as if they want to run into traffic with their daughters lacrosse stick screaming.
On a more psycho note I threw a coffee cup at my husbands truck.
Yeah I’m not sure where my common sense has gone. I think it may have fallen out of my vagina five months ago when I gave birth to my daughter. I was in the driveway and he was in the garage. The lawn guy had put all my flowers that he was going to plant that day on the edge of the driveway up by the garage door next to the flower bed and yep, you guessed it. My husband pulled out of the drive way and ran over $310 dollars worth of flowers. He couldn’t hear me or the flower squashing apparently with his fucking death metal music on, (yes he still listens to that crap) and I swear it was reflexes. My coffee cup flung. I don’t know what shocked me more. The fact that I threw it or the fact that my lawn guy looked like he shit his pants because he was the fucking moron who put the flowers in front of the garage door. Now, my husbands truck is a work truck, aka a piece so it wasn’t a big deal but my point is LOOK. He swears he couldn’t see them, I say our kids play in the driveway all the time. Know what is in front of you or behind you prior to putting your car in drive. I’m telling you absolutely all respect after affairs and pills and everything else has flown out the window in this relationship.
In the world of HIM, he is getting a new job that he starts Monday. I haven’t seen him in FOREVER, seriously forever but we still talk. Right or wrong it is my sanity. Normal conversation. How are you? How was your day? How was your weekend? Do you have any plans tonight? How are your kids, (that I miss so much)? Do you remember when we…. That one time was so funny when….. I sure miss when we….. UGH. His wife and him are no different, my husband and I are no different we are all four just going through the motions. Focusing on kids, sports and life. Occasionally waiving through our computer screens.
I wonder if you constantly have someone to waive to if things at home can ever get better. I seriously think that if they are to get better I have to WANT them to get better. In a way I do, but I want my husband to get better first. Pain pills lead down a very ugly road for an addict. A road that seems to go in a circle in my life.
Enough bitching.
My kids are great. They are what brings me huge joy. I still love blogging, reading, cleaning, yes my OCD still has me cleaning like a mad woman. My schedule is still jammed packed because it is the only way I don’t stop and think. When I stop and think my anxiety is out of control. I have a daughter that is starting to drive and plays volleyball, my other daughter plays lacrosse, my son plays rugby and I have my new baby. The oldest three have all moved out. Thats another blog post in itself. Its so weird when your kids move out. Suddenly you feel alone. Like the schedules that you jam packed your daytime with are starting to open up. They are grown. Dating and paying their own rent. Holding jobs and buying cars. I guess I did somethings right. I just make myself stay busy. And if I make myself busy and the subject is always my kids then I am happy. And when I am happy I’m less likely to throw coffee cups at vehicles.
Too tired to proof read this…..
Being Her, (the other woman)... 
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