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…..

Is age ‘JUST’ a number?


Question for all of you. At what age do you feel you were able to clearly think when it came to love. I received an email from a reader, and I would never blog your story unless you told me I could. But I’ve been thinking a lot about her email. She is in a very similar boat as me. Long story short she told me her story and as I read my heart broke because I too know all her feelings. The loneliness, the anger, the jealousy, the excitement, the butterflies…. all of it. And I read and read her story and then I read the one line that I keep thinking about. She is a teenager. Now I don’t want to start judging anyone so I am asking. Can you know love, (really KNOW love) before the age of lets say…. 22? My reply must have sounded like her mother, and for that I feel bad but I have kids older than her. I would just be heart broken if my child was caught up in an affair. UGH. I guess this situation doesn’t choose its ages. I won’t give details on her story because I didn’t ask to blog it, I just am so taken back on a full grown married man (my age) having an affair with a teenager, (she’s of legal age, I will add). She swears up and down that its love and she loves him. I don’t think I knew anything other than a crush until I was 22. So in the comments do two things for me. 1. At what age do you feel you REALLY knew what love was, and 2. Give one example of the age you WERE when you THOUGHT you knew what love was.

1. I don’t think I knew what TRUE love was until I had a child. I know thats a different kind of love but I truly think its the only ‘true’ love I’ve known this far. I do love my husband but have been hurt so much so often by him, and I don’t think true love hurts…. maybe I’m wrong. And I know I love HIM very much. I love so much about him. I just wonder if true love is more so when there is nothing to hide and everything is out there and open and honest. Wait, what am I talking about…. of course it is. I am almost 40 and I think I’m STILL learning what true love is.

I love and miss you all! I am getting a lot more open time now that my youngest blessing is sleeping through the night so my insomnia should get me back to blogging now!


A song I heard today that hit home.


Tell me have you ever wanted
Someone so much it hurts?
Your lips keep trying to speak
But you just can’t find the words
Well I had this dream once;
I held it in my head

She was the purest beauty
But not the common kind
She had a way about her
That made you feel alive
And for a moment
We made the world stand still

Yeah, we owned the night

You had me dim the lights;
You danced just like a child
The wine spilled on your dress

And all you did was smile
Yeah, it was perfect
I hold it in my mind

Yeah, we owned the night

When the summer rolls around
And the sun starts sinking down
I still remember you
Oh, I remember you
And I wonder where you are

Are you looking at those same stars again?
Do you remember when?

We woke under a blanket
All tangled up in skin
Not knowing in that moment
We’d never speak again
But it was perfect;
I never will forget
When we owned the night

Yeah, we owned the night

(We Owed the Night, Lady Antebellum)

Hello my blogging friends!

I am here but my life has been insane. 

My best friends baby died of sids.  She was six weeks old.  It has been heartbreaking. 

My family is doing great. 

I’ve gotten a ton of emails from all of you asking when I will blog again, and I promise I will get back to it.  I miss you all.   I miss reading blogs more though.   I just have three of my kids playing sports and my business gets a little crazy in the summer.   Know I am here and I am good!  Keep up your blogging so I have a great amount to read and catch up on when I get back!

Remember me


Come to me.

Come touch me.

Come take a taste of me.

Come, let me please you.

Come please me.

Come and see what we used to see.

Come and feel what we used to feel.

Come and let me remind you of the way things were.

Come and let me dance my fingers along your skin.

Come and explore what has faded.

Come and remind yourself of highs.

Come and forget your lows.

Come and forget everything around you.

Come and just remember,

remember me.

I only have a second and I was thinking….











Making Love.



















They are all different.  Right?   For example, (I’d like to know what HE thinks but),  I feel like fucking is one of two things.  Rough sex or quick.  With or without feelings attached.  I think sex is just sex… no strings…. no feelings.  Maybe at the start of an affair for some.  Some of my readers say flat out- “they had an affair because they were missing SEX.  No drama, no relationship, no feelings, just sex”.   And then there is making love.  The complicated one.   When do you go from sex to making love?  I can say with HIM we had sex, (when we were learning about each other), it at first was awkward, maybe because of the situation.  And I think I’d say we have fucked…. (I don’t mean that to sound so dirty), but we met to do that… quickies and seriously relieved some sexual frustration…. but as far as making love I find myself thinking. Wow.  I think men and women define this differently. Yes us women are all romantic and sappy and say oh the music was right or he was amazing and it was slow…  but what if it is more detailed?  What if at a moment it hits you.  That you want nothing more to be with this man that is with you right now.  A moment when you realize you have never felt an orgasm like that or felt goosebumps cover you when you felt overheated?  What about when you lose control of every one of your senses.  You forget where you are and the ringing in your ears is deafening? Is making love losing sense of time, surroundings, and of the real life situation you are sitting in?  All I know is when HE touched me, just a touch goosebumps could fly down my sides and erect my nipples.  One kiss and I was seriously dizzy.   I can say I never felt those things even with my husband in the very beginning when things were good.  Never have I been aroused so quickly or so much by anyone.


An email I received:


I asked this emailer  (TKM),  if I could post her email because it moved me SOOO much.  I can relate to it on so many levels and so many feelings.  I have looked into the mirror and just stared at myself wondering who I was and what I’d become.  Looking at my spirit filled numb body.  Realizing when I looked in the mirror after being around my husband and then again after being with HIM how it was like two completely different people standing there… body language and confidence both.  A look of being dead and empty or a look of being alive and fulfilled.  Just based on who I was with.  Let me stop talking… (writing), here is her email.  I’ve never posted email before… I asked her if I could post this and got her permission.  Please don’t think if you email me I will post it or talk about your email.  I NEVER will unless I ask you and get your permission.  Please feel free to comment after reading, I’m sure she would like your comments/thoughts and opinions too!


I cannot believe I am emailing you.  I don’t even know what it is I am looking for.  My only release is to write and cry at the same time.  Live to see another day, and then do it again. 
This is what I wrote tonight.
I came upstairs to sit next to my husband.  I watched as he did not even look up to acknowledge me there.  His head bowed as he started intently at his phone playing an online game.  The television blared of the basketball game and I thought to myself, he is quite the multi-tasker of forgettable moments.  I walked away into the restroom.  Stood at the sink and looked at the reflection staring back at me.  Is this my life?  I remembered just 6 days ago my boyfriend made me laugh endlessly over breakfast.  I noticed how he adored my smile, my laugh and stared at me with kind eyes.  He listened to what I had to say and conversed with me displaying interest and understanding.  The topics varied from something to nothing at all. 
As I stared into my own eyes in the mirror, stripped of all makeup I remembered that day.  I still can feel the moment as he reached across the table and brushed his fingertips against my cheek, moving a curl from my face so he could look into both of my eyes.  I was looking down at the time and wanted to look up, I wanted to give him the look that moment deserved but instead fear kept me from moving.  I paused in my story, fumbled over my words.  I muttered “I lost my train of thought”.  He laughed “you always do”. 
I was afraid to look up at that very moment in fear that I would fall again.  Fall for the man who hurt me twice already.  I had cried for so many days straight and at one time was in a blank zone that I feared returning to that place if I let my guard down.  I wanted to let go more than anything and feel what I felt before.  Feel what I knew he once felt for me as well.  However my heart was over ruled by my mind, once again.  I think of that day and think to myself, what fun times.  But now that’s then, this is now. 
I have to be done with this rollercoaster ride.  Deep inside I know what I once meant to him.  I know the mistakes that were made on both ends.  I am also aware of what was real and what was real covered in guilt in fear.  There is nothing to do other than to except it.  I have to respect the place we are at now. Even if for me it is a lonely place.  Deep inside I knew he would do this again.  When I let him in, I knew I would be the one to hurt in the end. 
This passive easy way to let me go is still, just that.  It is still, letting me go.  We needed each other for a moment, though I needed more he got his fill.  Perhaps I cured his weakness, calmed his fears and cleared his insecurities and now he leaves with the piece of me that I gave to him, and once again, I stand here alone within a crowded room, invisible.
The hardest thing for me is coming to the realization the very thing I need someone to fall for so that my body can feel amazing, is in fact the very thing that ruins my relationships.  Do I blame myself?  Do I blame my past?  Can you blame anything when it has been subconsciously instilled in you to not trust.  I have never met a man who dove deep enough into my soul to kiss away my insecurities, wipe away my fear and show me how to fly.  Am I deserving of love from the opposite sex?  Or am I trophy?  Is my heart ever understood, my mind ever explored?  Do I simply fulfill a purpose for others?  To fix, to heal, to inspire, to believe and at the end of the day as an individual woman, remain alone? 
This is torture.  To put myself through such heartbreak and misery is foolish.  But is there truth to the saying “I would rather have loved and lost then to never have loved at all”  I am not speaking of the love that grows in time.  The unconditional, comfortable love.  I am referring to the butterflies that come swarming in your belly, the clouds that fill your mind, the chills you receive when you tell a story of a single moment you had with someone.  Where you toss and turn at night because you can still feel their touch. 
I think to myself I should just cry.  Let it out, everything you feel just release.  Then… you need to let it go.  But I know that a thousand tears that stream down my face tonight could never end the pain I feel inside my chest and the hole that fills my stomach when I think of letting go.  I never knew this kind of pain existed…to loose someone that was never yours. 
He was my missing piece so that I could continue on and do the right thing in my life.  Although a small piece that I held in my pocket, it was essential for the complete picture.  Without it, I remain, me…as a woman…incomplete. 
I stand here stripped, naked in truth.  Bare, with all my flaws to see.  I fell in love.  I fell in love with his mind, his need to be seen, his insecurities, his internal struggle to do the right thing, I fell in love with all that he showed me he was outside of home.  The very core of who we are and what we hold inside often lies in the eyes of our mistress.  They hold our weaknesses and our dreams.  We accept blindly and love childishly without blame, mistakes, resentment or expectations.  It is to give and receive the very best of someone and appreciate it fully.
beautiful.  real.  heartbreaking.  I get it.  I feel it.  I know it.  All too well.
Two things nailed my heart…
” I never knew this kind of pain existed…to loose someone that was never yours
and her last statement:
I fell in love.  I fell in love with his mind, his need to be seen, his insecurities, his internal struggle to do the right thing, I fell in love with all that he showed me he was outside of home.
The very core of who we are and what we hold inside often lies in the eyes of our mistress.  They hold our weaknesses and our dreams.
We accept blindly and love childishly without blame, mistakes, resentment or expectations.  It is to give and receive the very best of someone and appreciate it fully.
Woah.  If we have mind strings, as we do heart strings… this email is pulling on mine….