price writing priceless life lessons

price writing priceless life lessons

Pretty much everything these days comes with a price attached to it.   Love, freedom, religion, politics, material items, and the list goes on.  Some people are willing to pay the price of their own lives to prove a point.  Sadly that price has been shown all over the news today.

But that’s not what this post is about.

I want to talk about the things that are priceless…

The sunshine.  I don’t see it much these days.  They say spring is here but when I look out my window…it’s snowing.

My children’s laughter.  When my kids are happy and laughing I find it to be completely contagious.  Even on my most depressed days…like today.

My mentality.  I have been in a real down mood lately.  Can’t seem to get myself out of it.  I am sure it has something to do with not seeing the sunshine for days.  I see it trying to shine through the clouds but it’s been so long since I have felt it on my face.

The beat of music.  There’s nothing like a good song to be my wing man at whatever emotion I am feeling.

Silence.  I don’t get it very often, and when I do it’s totally priceless.  Sometimes, if I am in the car alone, I will arrive somewhere on purpose just to sit there in silence.  Not even the radio on….just silence.

Health.  I probably should have put this one at the top of my list.  So many of us take good health for granted.  It takes something going wrong for one to take notice that what they had should have been cherished more.

Memories.  I wish I would have written more of them down.  I wish I would have started blogging long before I actually did.  There are pieces of my kids lives that I can’t remember.  Like little phrases they said that made me laugh out loud.  Just this morning I was trying so hard to remember something my son said a few months ago about a particular soda and I couldn’t remember!!!  I started crying and it was only 7 in the morning.  So many moments …..gone.

Sleep.  Some days I miss when I could fall asleep without the aid of drugs or alcohol.  I can’t even remember when it was that I started tossing and turning all night long until finally I decided it was just time to get up and start another day in zombie mode.  Making myself several pots of coffee and downing energy drinks just to stay awake.  But by bedtime…couldn’t sleep.

What is your most priceless possession?

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The Daily Post Writing Prompt…Price





Failing At Parenthood

parenting fail kids

parenting fail kids

Feeling like you have failed at parenthood, even if only for one day, is the worst feeling.  Especially when you feel like having a night out, in the middle of the week, and it interferes how you function the next day with your children.  And when you notice they are happening more frequently the guilt really begins to set in.

I know because this was me a couple of nights ago.  My husband and I decided that we needed a night out.  We were responsible and called a cab to pick us up from our home since we knew that we would be drinking.

I like to gamble and so does my husband…just not quite as much as I do.  I always tell him he drinks like I gamble.  Once we start, we can’t stop.

We were having so much fun and really not paying much attention to the time.  I swear one minute it was 6pm and the next it was 3am.

3AM!  I get up to get my kids ready for the school run at 6:30!

Needless to say preschool that day was crossed off the list but I did get my son to elementary school with the help of my teenager.  I didn’t even hear the alarm at 6:30.  I woke at 7:15 and without even getting out of bed, called my oldest on his cell phone and told him to get his brother ready and not to worry about getting the other two ready as they would be staying home today.

My husband, of course, slept through the whole thing.

I turned on a movie for the girls and then crawled back in bed and back to sleep.  Luckily after the movie was over my 4 year old then turned on the Xbox so they could both play.

They would come in from time to time asking if they could have this or that to eat in which I woke and mumbled, “yeah, go ahead, have whatever you want to eat” as long as I didn’t have to get up and fix it, I didn’t care.

I didn’t care…

I think I finally came out of my sleeping fog around 11:30am.  Hubby still snoring loudly beside me.  I peeled myself from our bed, reached in the cabinet for the ibuprofen, and downed three of them with an entire glass of water.  I laid back down just long enough for them to kick in.

Then I went and got some lunch.

I was cranky and depressed and realized that there was a whole list of things that needed to be done between the time I had to pick my son up and bedtime.

I just kept asking myself “why do I do this to myself?…When will I learn my lesson”.

Even today, as I write this post, I am still feeling the effects of a night of partying and a day of neglecting my kids.  Sure, they were fed and in no harm, but their mother wasn’t present like she should have been.  And the father, well they are use to him not being present since he works so much.

And the guilt sets in…until the next time.

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Daily Prompt

New Me…Where Are You?

disappointment marriage relationships goals

Today was supposed to be the start of the change of our new “us”.  You know…the goals that we decided we wanted to try and achieve this year?

Yes we made it to the gym and I was happily moving along when after 30 minutes you were ready to leave.  It was like you were in a bad mood and wanted nothing to do with working out whatever it was that was frustrating you.

So now that feeling is returning.

The one where I think that there is someone else.  I think that someone else has started to realize that you aren’t really in a situation where you can just up and leave your family.  Or maybe it has dawned on her all the baggage that comes for the ride along with you.  Either way, the fact that I catch you on your phone almost CONSTANTLY and your disconnected attitude has my antennas going.

I don’t need you to get healthy.  I am doing this solely for myself because I want to feel better and look better.  I want to be happier most days rather than sad and depressed which is exactly what you looked like today.

You were no fun to be around and I am actually happy that you are returning to work tomorrow.

It’s like we take one step forward and then 3 steps back.

You even refuse to help me with any of the planning of our son’s birthday party because you feel that he doesn’t need one.  Everyone deserves at least one in their lifetime.

Just because you never had one….don’t you want different for your kids than what you had or didn’t have?  That’s one thing I will never understand about you.  Your lack of compassion at being a father…and a husband for that matter.  You think that because you are present at being a father unlike your absentee sperm donor, and because you don’t beat the shit out of our kids like your step father did you, that somehow you are being a great father.

Yet when I see you sit around and never interact with your children on a regular basis, it upsets me.  It makes me wonder if I chose the right person to father my kids.

Yes you have a great work ethic and you support this family.  But if you don’t spend time and recognize your kids now…someday it will be too late.

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I Want To Be Barbie

barbie identity dolls

Who wouldn’t want to be the bitch that has everything?  Cars, houses, men, horses, and the perfect body…unrealistic body…but those boobs, no matter how old she gets still stay right where they are.  And she never gets wrinkly even after being left in the bathtub overnight.

Her wardrobe could make Lisa Vanderpump of the Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills jealous.  Of course, in my house she is always lounging around naked.  Who wouldn’t love to do that all day?

She’s more popular then any Kardashian could ever dream of being.  She can sing, dance, act, and if you asked Ken I bet he would tell you that she’s like a porn star in the bedroom.  Maybe Mattel should make her a stripper pole to go along with all the rest of her possessions.

And where does she get that lipstick?  It never wears off!  And no matter what you do to her hair it still looks great.  Even matted with breakfast syrup in it.

She travels everywhere and some people go to great lengths to make shrines of her using an entire room in their house…some even as far as using their whole house.  Believe me, I have seen it with my own eyes.

She doesn’t eat, doesn’t have to take time out of her busy day to use the bathroom and she NEVER loses that “everything is fabulous” look on her face.

So you tell me?  Who wouldn’t want to be Barbie?

Daily Post: A Brand New You – “Who would you want to be, if you could wake up as someone else tomorrow?”

The Faces Of Barbie Through The Years

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PS: The only bad thing about Barbie is if you drag her across the pavement she gets all scratched up…the scratches don’t go away and she then gets thrown in the trash.  Guess that part would suck to be Barbie.

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So Now I Am The Bad Guy

step parenting bad guy teenagers

I have said it before and I will say it again …being a step parent really doesn’t have a lot of perks.  I have pretty much raised my step son and cared for him longer than his egg donor ever did and although I have accepted that he will never call me mom…it still hurts.  Especially when his real mother isn’t even in the picture…AT ALL.

But that’s all irrelevant to this post…

My step son left yesterday for a sporting competition.  Before he was to leave I had asked him to get some stuff done, chore wise, around the house.  His father has been ill and pretty much useless at helping with anything so I was relying on my stepson’s help before he left.

He did nothing that I asked of him.

Yet he asked me to go to the store and load him up on snacks for his trip and to make sure he had money as well.  So the nice step mother that I am made sure to do that.  I do a lot for that boy and half of it goes totally unappreciated and usually unnoticed.

I text him last night after doing all the chores myself and let him know how upset I was.  I never heard a word back from him.  Whatever.  Didn’t really give two shits.

Then today my husband asked me why I was so upset with him (I had went off about something else I had found that he hadn’t done) so I told him why.

I have learned through the years that complaining to my husband really doesn’t matter because all he does is get upset that he feels like he has to referee between the two of us.  Which I call total bullshit because for the most part I have always handled the problems myself.


He informed me that I should tell him how I felt…in which I told him that I had text him last night and never gotten a response.

10 minutes pass…

My phone beeps with a text message from my step son stating that he is sorry he never text me back.  That’s it. Not that he’s sorry he didn’t do what I asked only that he’s sorry about the fact that his dad bitched at him for not getting back to me.

To be honest I was a little upset that his father even said anything to him.  I had pretty much been over the entire fact for about 24 hours now.

I text him back basically saying that I was upset but that I was over it and that I hoped he was having a good time at his sporting event.  Which then he informed me he had lost.

I replied with …well I will chalk that up to karma and put a funny face after it.

Now let me just say that this family is not an easy family to live in when you get upset about something.  We are all taught to pretty much suck up our feelings and get on with life.  No one’s allowed to get offended or have emotions pretty much what. so. ever.

So the fact that I said that to him, I felt was just the same as him telling me that my cooking was gross or I sucked at memorizing every player of every team in the NFL.  There are actually a lot of rude and crude comments that I endure from him and his father that I am expected to just roll off my shoulders.  But I say something and suddenly I am an asshole parent.

A week ago my husband told my 5 year old to stop being a dumbass. Yes those were his exact words and somehow that is great parenting compared to me telling my 15 year old that karma caused him to lose his sporting event.

What. The. Fuck. Ever.

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Fearless Fantasies

fearless fear fantasies

fearless fear fantasies

To not have the feeling of fear.

There really isn’t much I fear.  But I do have a lot of fantasies.

I fantasize about having a different husband.  One who knows how to truly love someone and who isn’t still holding a grudge at the cards he was dealt as a teenager.

I fantasize about me having the courage to leave him and that my kids will be ok with it because they don’t like him much anyway.

I fantasize about after I am gone him realizing that I was the best thing that ever happened to him and dwelling in his own painful and lonely misery.  Pleads for me to come back but I know once I have passed that point there will be no return for me.

I fantasize about having my career back.  The one I gave up to stay home and raise our children.  The decision that has left me feeling powerless and a loss of myself.

Never in a relationship has someone made more money than me.

I fantasize about the good days of our marriage and that they somehow still outweigh the bad.  I know that our love is strong and that when the passion is there it’s truly like no other I have felt.

All these things that I fantasize about are creating fear in me.

I don’t want another failed relationship.  I have had enough of them in my lifetime.

My biggest fear is being alone, therefore if I had no fear….I would already be alone.

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Daily Post Prompt: Fearless Fantasies


My Faith

faith religion labels people humanity agnostic atheist

faith religion labels people humanity agnostic atheist

I was brought up with a very strong existence about God.

My grandmother read the bible every morning as soon as she woke and visited church on occasions and I remember when I was younger, attending bible study.

When I was a teen and lived with my mother, she would get on church kicks where we would suddenly go to church a few Sundays in a row.

I was usually hungover and trying not to get caught dosing off only to be flicked in the back of the head by my mother when I did.

As I have gotten older and started to read my own articles about science and religion, and have found that religion, especially organized religion, is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo.  I have realized that religion is nothing that I want to be a part of, much less believe in.

I don’t believe in God, but I believe in being a good person.  I also believe in the paranormal although I have never experienced it and I especially believe in karma.

I am married to an atheist, who believes in nothing, and who also has decided to label me as agnostic.  But why do I need a label?  Why does anyone need to be labeled as something.  Perhaps if there weren’t so many labels there wouldn’t be so much controversy over who was right and who was wrong and who was just plain crazy.

To me, labels have become crazy.

If your child is hyper..they have ADD…if they are strange…they are on some autistic spectrum.  Like when did being weird become a label.  If someone is weird in their own way and it isn’t hurting anyone then why give them a label?

Not to mention everyone thinks of “Rainman” when the word autistic is mentioned.  And in the movie Tom Cruise’s character didn’t understand Dustin Hoffman’s character’s behavior but by the end learned to love his weirdness and accept it.  And let’s face it that motherfucker was smart and quick as a whip.

I have somewhat lost my faith in humanity because humanity itself has become a series of labels.  Like everything that’s out of the ordinary has to have a name for it.

Why can’t we all just be the humans we were meant to be and keep our skeletons in the closet as long as they aren’t endangering anyone or anything else?

I enjoy watching porn…does that make me a pervert?

If I was religious, why would I have to go to a church to pray?  Why would I have to follow someone else’s rules…someone who has really no proof as to the existence of what they believe.

Why do people that don’t eat meat have to be labeled as vegetarians?   And why should they frown upon me because I love me some meat!?!?

There are sometimes that my faith in humanity is restored…when I am able to witness acts of kindness.  There are times I myself try to restore it by helping the needy man on the corner, which most would label as homeless,  only to see him get out of a brand new car, two days later, to stand on the same corner.  And now every time I pass him I just want to flip him off or throw a penny at him.

I will tell you this much about faith…I have faith in myself,  I know exactly who I am, how weird I am, and know that believing in myself is truly the only way to succeed at anything….without fucking labels.

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