Mommy Dearest

Ok, are you ready for this?

With five weeks left until we can move into our new home, the woman I knew as "Mom" has kicked my husband and I out of her basement where we are living (if you can call it that) while we are building a house.

...

She told me this while I was at work on Friday. There was no fight. There was no drug-running from the basement. No broken windows. No band practice. No exorbitant power bills. The reason? She and her boyfriend need privacy.

To say that I'm reeling is a drastic understatement. To say that I'm devastated is closer to the truth. To say that I've never felt so alone in my entire life is pretty spot on. I feel like my mom has died--that is how out of character this is.

She told me this over the phone. I sobbed at work. I went for a walk and came back. I sobbed more.

She has yet to look at me, much less speak to me.

Luckily for me and my little family unit, we have an amazing support system. Within 2 hours of finding out I have nowhere to live, we had secured a place to live in rent free with our animals until we can finish the house.

Oh yeah, did I mention that we are just now beginning to do our finishing work on the house? The house that I WAS living 30 feet from in order to make that work more convenient, but now have to travel 30 minutes one way to reach? Did I mention that we are doing all the flooring, building the kitchen, building both bathrooms, painting, and running the trim? Did I mention that? Because I think the woman I called "mom" has forgotten. Strange, she is only 51. Early onset Alzheimer's? I wish.

So tonight marks our first night in a being-remodeled rental. The hubs and I are finishing the remodel work in the rental in exchange for the place to stay. And we are finishing our house at the same time. Awesome.

I might be a bit M.I.A. for the next couple of weeks, but when our house is done I promise I'll have pictures.


Does anyone know what to do when your mom decides you are no longer a part of her life? Because these are new and risky waters for me. I could use a good word. Maybe I can get a mix from Ms. Mix & Bitch.

Destination: Unknown

We didn't make it to Mexico.

Me and the hubs got to the gate for our early morning flight, and just as we were stepping up I realized I had not yet changed my passport to my married name. Of course, the hubs had booked us under our married monikers, as he should. I haven't been out of the country since we got married, so I haven't even thought about it.

So yeah, they didn't let me on the plane, and the sweet hubs refused to go without me. So we changed our tickets to go out to L.A. to visit the good friends with the sweet bebe, who is not such a bebe anymore.

But before we left for L.A., I went and got mah hair did. Whad'ya think?


Peace out from L.A. peeps. Don't underestimate the ability to fuck yourself over. It is a lesson well-learned.

Love,

Boo

Breastfeeding: How Old is Too Old?

I'm starting to realize just how taboo this topic is, because I haven't been able to find a lot of reliable and accurate data on American mothers and their breastfeeding habits. But what I have found is generally this:

60-70% of American mothers breastfeed their children while still in the hospital

25-40% of American mothers breastfeed their children up to 6 months

less than 5% of American mothers breastfeed their children at 18 months

So what happens when mothers are breastfeeding past 2 years old? What about 3 years old? What about 8 years old??



Your thoughts?

My Big Stupid Mouth

I have a feeling that I'm going to have to work pretty hard to make today a good day. Arg. I think I'm in the middle of a personal crisis. My big stupid mouth! It always gets me into trouble. But my big stupid mouth is usually able to get me out again. But I don't want to talk my way out of this one. I want to take the consequences that come with my actions.

If anyone has a great 'instant cheer' remedy for self-loathing, please let me know ASAP.

Injuries, Part A Million

Two busted lips.

...

How, you may ask?
I am a dedicated, overly-motivated softball player, that's how!

The funny part: Yesterday after work, I grabbed a drink with my boss. During our meandering conversation, I mentioned I was going to softball practice later that evening, and laughed about having a beer beforehand, thinking it might not be such a good idea. But it was a joke, really, because I've gone to softball games toasted out of my mind. (Hmm, can one truly be 'toasted' out of their mind? The 'toasted' implies a lesser degree of drunkenness, so how could I be out of my mind with it? Anyway, moving on.)

So needless to say, my boss had a good laugh at my expense this morning when I walked in with TWO FAT LIPS. Yeah.

Note: This injury has nothing to do with my ability or inability to play softball. It was pure chance. But man, that wet crunching sound it made when the speeding ball caught me square on my mouth was really fucking disgusting. Because my entire face went numb, I had to feel my teeth with my finger to make sure they were all there. One tooth is a bit more crooked than it should be, but no casualties, I'm happy to report. At least this injury will not prohibit me from playing on Sunday. Beans!

Also on the plus side: I had the most amazing pineapple-habanero ribs today for lunch. Yes, ribs for lunch. I know, I am pure awesome.

Update: Thanks so much to BRAD for the get well ecard!!! You rock, brotha!

Oh Shit Moments

Our house is WAAAAAAAAY over budget.

Oh SHIT.