Dear Son, I loved you enough to let you go.

Almost 14 years ago I was blessed with a baby boy.   I never knew how much a little human being would change my life.   I was almost 25 when he was born and was no way prepared for that adventure.  I was never the girl that doted over babies or even held a job being a babysitter when I was a kid.  So when he came into this world I had a lot to learn, and for most of that I thank my mom.  She was there.  She helped me change my first diaper and helped me calm him with the colic.  I don't know what I would have done without her.  At the same time, I may have used her too much.  She was my crutch.  I called and leaned on her for every move I ever made with him.  Maybe my bond with him would have been stronger.  

When my marriage to his father started to crumble, I went and built a wall around me to block anyone who was close to me.   I held on to that marriage for more years than I should have thinking that this baby that was so precious would change him, change me, change us.  That's what babies do they make a family.  Unfortunately, that wasn't even close to being true.  And deep down, I knew that already.  But, for that little face I tried to pull myself together and ignore the signs, the emails, the secret letters and the secret phones.  There was no saving this.   And like all lies, they crumbled and the world came down, but I pulled myself together and went on.  I had to, what choice do you have?  Fall apart and be a victim or take back your control.  I took mine back.   I made a promise that I would protect that little boy and be the type of parent he would need me to be.  No fighting with the biological, move on from the negative and focus on the important things.  After all, once the papers were signed and filed this wasn't about our failed life together anymore, this was about making peace and having normal.  And for a couple of years, we did.  As a matter of fact, I found that I was actually friends with this man who at one time I despised and hated.  We both had our faults but we moved on.

In a matter of a few years all those things crashed and burned.   Being civil was no longer an option.   Being in the same room was never going to happen.   We did not speak his name.  And soon the visits diminished.  A new woman had come into the picture with her own family and this sweet little boy who had always had a father and a mother was now longer the front of his father's affections.  Time between them got shorter and shorter.  And I admit, the selfish part of me was glad to have him and that time together.  But the rational part of me saw his hurt, and my heart hurt and for that I wanted this man to suffer.  As time went on, the crazy got crazier.  Things were said, more emails, text messages and phone calls.  Just trying to survive without recreating CSI episodes was what drove us.  I couldn't understand the hate this new woman had for me when we had never spoke one word to each other.  I didn't even know what she looked like.  But she hated me and decided to make it her mission to terrorize my entire family.  She was so miserable in her new marriage with this man, who wasn't and isn't even close to what she thought she would have.  Much like me, she hopes it will all change, but it wont.  

 

And then the day come that for whatever reason...be it money, or guilt, or just plain evil he decided to come out of a year long MIA situation and be apart of this boy's life.  I lost my own father when I was 18 to Leukemia, there's nothing worse in the world than losing the one man in the world who is the standard.  Even though my son's father was and is no where near the standard or hold a flame to my own father, it was his father and he needed to know him.  He needed that and I swore I wouldn't stand in his way.  But like all uncivil unions, that wasn't enough.  Court battles began.   This boy was going to be the center of a situation that as a baby you never expect or see yourself being in.  He was a pawn in a grown up game that he had no business being in.  Tiny Humans aren't dice in your real life game of Yahtzee.   I've carried hurt, heart break and anger inside me for almost a year since this journey began.  I didn't know a heart could break so hard.   You always think it's easy to say, sure go see that the grass isn't greener on the other side.  But it's not.  Because as mothers we aren't built that way.  We aren't born with the gene that makes it ok not to be there when he wakes up in the morning and wants his pancakes.  We're not equipped to handle the feelings of not seeing him go on his first date or enter his first day of high school.   They don't send that to you in the brochure at the attorney's office when you're filing for divorce and think that having every other Christmas will be ok.  

Mother's by instinct go into fight mode.  And I was no different.  No one was taking my baby boy away from me.  Nobody.  We hire lawyers, we research case law, we have evidence of the crazy, we have police records of the new step mom (yeah she's a gem), we have everything.  The war is waged and we're all in.   Multi-thousand dollar retainers are paid to lawyers who don't care about you, don't care about the other side, and certainly don't care about this child you've loved before he was even born.  You become a warrior and you're so short sighted all you can see is the win.  You can't let that bastard win and you certainly can't admit defeat to that horrible cancer he calls his wife.  

And then you're sitting there in a cold law office going back forth arguing and fighting over dumb stuff; money and who is taking the tennis racket and who's not getting June for Summer visitation.   In a matter of minutes, a whole lifetime of me and this sweet freckled faced little boy is being played in my mind like an old 8mm movie.  I see his tears when he's hurt and his laugh when we're playing.  And it hits me like a thunderbolt, this tiny human, is going to have to sit on some stand in front of his mother and father and a stranger in a black robe is going to make him physically say out loud, who do you want to live with?  Who do you choose?  Who do you love more??  Can a 14 year old boy even comprehend what's being asked of him?  A boy that just wants to know his dad with his own vision, without any preconceived ideas?  I know dad is ready to put him on the stand at all costs.  Its been said to him since he was 5 years old.   But dad isn't smart.  But I am.  I have a heart.  What rational good parent makes their own child say out loud I choose you over them?  I couldn't do it.  And with tears flooding my cheeks I signed those papers in that cold drafty office and made that decision so that my child didn't.  I didn't know a heart could hurt so bad.  It was a long 13 hour drive home by myself.  

His father will never understand the sacrifice I made, nor would he care.  I'm convinced psychopaths have no empathy and I've known that man since I was 18 and have never once seen him show one ounce.  He's a man who only cared about himself and his own hedonistic desires.  But someone had to be the bigger person and show that sweet little boy, there is good in the world and one of us knew the right thing to do.  I hope he finds what he's looking for there.  I hope he gets his answers.  I'm his mother, I will never go away, I will never stop loving him, I will never stop being in the shadows watching just like the 1st day he went to school.  I'll know.  And hopefully, when he's 40 and he has my grand babies, he'll know, his mother took the high road.  He may not have agreed with her but he never doubted for one minute who's corner his mom was in.  

In a world where everything that is wrong is right, I refuse to let that example serve as a standard for my children.  I'm remarried to a man, he's my best friend.  I was lucky to find him.  He accepted me and my son in his life, he became the kind of man my son has looked up to for the last 9 years.  He became the standard and he's the standard for my daughter.  I like to think that my father would be proud of me, proud of my family.  Because this man I married, is everything I think my father would want me to have.  My 1st biggest mistake in my life lead me to the love of my life.  My son is lucky to have had a wonderful man for a stepfather, and a man that will always be there for him.   You have to find your silver lining and set the example.  Its all we have.  Thank you Jesse, for being the standard and showing me love, support, and a shoulder through everything.  They can't stop us.  And to my son, you are my 1st born, the apple of my eye and the young man I've had the honor to raise for the last 14 years, you are a gift that I will treasure forever.  Don't forget to brush your teeth!  

Internet Faux Pas

I am convinced that the majority of people with access to the Internet shouldn’t be allowed to post anything.   There should be some sort of algorithm for the posts that make you want to slap someone.  I firmly believe if those people at Facebook who are hiding all of Glenn Beck’s posts can make that happen then they can say, you know what, we’ve seen you before, you’re stupid, no Posting for You!    I see things that I’m ashamed to be a part of the human race sometimes.   And then I see things where the kids of parents my age have posted and I want to say, what is wrong with you????   And then I read the military wives pages and I truly know there’s no hope for humanity.  It's like society is the Benjamin Buttons of smarts.  The older we get the dumber we get.  Just remember kids, those people are going to be taking care of us in the home.

As of today here’s a list of my favorite hated Posts and Posters:

1.              My power is out, what about you?

What if my power is out, does that somehow help in knowing that yours isn’t on?  Do you need some sort of affirmation that your power truly is out?  I don’t understand this question.  Before the internet, if our power went out, we called the power company, got a pre-recorded message that in more politically correct terms said, we know your power is out dumbass, stop calling us, it will come on when we’re done working on it. 

2.              Can you help me coupon?

Ok, what kind of person with 2 working thumbs needs help couponing?  I don’t understand this.  You clip the coupon and use the coupon, before it expires.  It’s pretty self-explanatory.  I’m not sure you need a coupon posse to go with you or a visual tutorial.

3.              Truth is…………

So this is one the kids made popular.  You go onto some random friend’s FB page and you say, “Truth is…I don’t really know you but would like to know you because I think your chill and we could have fun together and I think we had 3^rd period together and I really like your girlfriend her eyebrows are really on fleek”.   It’s stupid.  You don’t have to start your sentence with “truth is”…because it’s assumed in an intellectual society that if you strike up a random conversation with someone, it’s coming from a place of truth.   That’s like me posting…. SO, my lie for today is…. I don’t think your husband is cheating on you when he never comes home and stays out all night and you showed up with a naked baby and pregnant demanding to talk to his boss because you’re mad he doesn’t get home by 3pm in the afternoon to see who’s the daddy on Maury.  Stupid right, of course it is.  Kids today are dumb. 

4.              Is there a Whole Foods here (insert any business of your choice)???

GOOGLE!!  Holy cow, this one here gets me every time.  By the time you pulled up the 7 message boards and typed this question you could have asked Google.  It’s crazy, not only will it tell you if your town has one, you can get a map with directions on how to get there OR here’s where it gets real crazy…. if there’s not one in your town, they’ll tell you the nearest location.   MIND BLOWN!!   The moral…. stop asking dumb questions you can easily get the answer to on your own.   Effort, its hard.

5.              My light bulb on my porch blew, what do I do? 

So this one goes out to my military community.  We live a life where our spouses are gone a lot.  So we have to be mom and dad and do the man chores a lot.  But this question here almost made me open my Google app to find this particular brain surgeon and hunt her down and beat her with my ladder.  A lot of times military spouses think that you call the housing office for everything, as if learning to take care of it yourself is a new concept.  Can you imagine when you were at home and your porch light blew, who would mom call?  The fire dept?  I mean they do get cats out of trees.  Also in this category, where do I get an air cleaner?  Where do you buy a vacuum?  (ok, if you have to ask where to buy a vacuum, you shouldn't be allowed electricity at all, you're clearly not smart enough to breathe).   

6.              There’s a dead raccoon in my back yard what do I do with it?

I’m sure she’s related to the light bulb girl.  This one was just too stupid to even linger on the post, but you should know 15 people responded and every one of them, were almost as conflicted with this issue as the original poster.  I do believe some man felt sorry for her and removed the dead carcass.  I, along with my 2 best besties would would have just sat there and laughed with an expensive box of wine.  

7.              Political posts of any kind.

Nothing says I’m a moron like the people who respond to these.  And I might just be their Queen because here recently I fell down the rabbit hole and engaged in one.  At first I was just amused by how passionate people are and then I realized that my character was being assassinated by complete strangers and I went into defense mode.  I learned a lot.  I learned that 57 people have probably never read any part of the US Constitution or been in any sort of history class.  But they blessed my heart a lot.   As if I didn’t know what that meant!!!!  Along with these posters are the ones that automatically just call you names.  I was called a Trumpbot.  I'm really not sure what that means, but when I asked they blessed my heart and then deleted me from their site.  Because there's no such thing as free ideas on any political post, just agree and move on.  

8.              The over zealous responder!

Oh now this one here is the one who should have to have a limit on how many times they can respond to any one poster and any one threat.  She doesn’t even need to know the answer she’s going to post anyway.  She’s the lady that was in your college class that sat up front and raised her hand and had to answer every question and have an opinion.  And then get butt hurt when someone took a different opinion than her.  She can also be linked to the professional victim as well.  I hate her.  

9.              Online Peoples Court Lawyers.

These cats are fun.  Man they probably haven’t been in a school setting or had a job in years but they’ll be the first to quote what the law is.  Because they watched this exact scenario on the People’s Court or Boston Legal.    These people kind of fall in line with the people who are constantly copying and pasting their facts and truth from Wiki and Snopes.   I’m pretty sure you can’t get a J.D. from either one of these places. 

There are many more Internet faux pas I have but this list is the top.  What are you Internet pet peeves???????  Be careful though, the ever-popular grammar Nazis are watching and waiting to pounce!!

Impulse Buys and Broken Dreams

On any given day I can see something on TV or the Internet and realize in that very moment I can’t live with out that item.  How I’m not addicted to infomercials is still a mystery.  Because I really need those hot rollers that use steam and that crazy twirling curling iron that makes beach waves, oh and that little grill that will stay lit on 5 pieces of newspaper and twisty tie.   And it can be the most random of things that for whatever reason the dear lord shined his heavenly light down on and I decided that the world as we know it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t own it.  My vision came yesterday in a dear friend’s Facebook post.  The bible of the internet.    It was a Tiffany Blue cooler.  Oh where have you been all my life?   That was it, I literally went to bed thinking about all the things I could do with this cooler.  And none of these things involved anything you would naturally do with a cooler.  I’m not going to go “yak’n”, or have a picnic, or take it to the beach, or fish, or well, really do anything at all outdoors.  It’s going on my back porch.  Because you see the Tiffany Blue cooler would match my new Umbrella for my picnic table.  The thin blue stripe in the umbrella would be most accented with the blue cooler.  I mean don’t get me wrong, I can fill the cooler with drinks while I’m swimming in the pool, but lets be real…I’m decorating with it.   AND then it came to me….I could have the man free hand a white bow and ribbon on it.  Now the wheels are turning.   How many pictures could I take of Baby Girl with this?  How many pictures could I take of me with this?  Or I could just roll up at the next mandatory Army fun time party with my super cute cooler!!!!  YES!!!

I may have a sickness!

I found out where this magical wonder could be found and set out today to go get one.  Man oh man was I excited.  I couldn’t wait.  I got my pool supplies and there it was…sitting there waiting one me.  Right there, the angels were singing and I was giddy.  And then I saw the price tag.   Sweet Audrey Hepburn, what was thing made out of?  I mean seriously, is this the going rate for coolers now?  The square box we fill to the brim with ice and Busch Lite?  My heart sank.  I just couldn’t do it.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, this girl has no problem dropping some cash, but I just couldn’t tell myself enough how it was worth it.   I realized right then and there that the Army just wasn’t fulfilling my needs.  Apparently what the Army is telling me is that, Deana Rae, buy an igloo and paint that sucker! 

Those Styrofoam coolers could be easily painted and you could have a dozen Tiffany Blue coolers stacked like jewelry boxes.  No, I couldn’t.   Somehow the sparkle was gone.  And just like that I bought my chlorine for the pool and left disappointed and my dreams shattered.   I never knew my heart could ache so over a cooler. 

I got in the car to head home and on the radio we were discussing Reese Witherspoon and her life shattering decision to no longer wear cut off shorts.  Gone, out the window, not gonna do it.  She’s decided since she’s 40 now that she will no longer wear them because they’re just not appropriate for women of said age.  My age.  Well, my age in 2 months ( lets face it girls I'm holding on to 39 to the last minute on the clock).  She wants to be more polished, with nice shorts with a clean look.  That’s swell.   So I’ve lost a cooler today and looking at myself in the mirror, wearing my new cut off boy jean shorts from ShopBop and my muscle shirt that says, “Fun Fact, I don’t care”.   Apparently Reese would be mortified of my attire today.  I feel ashamed.   I also copied a Khloe Kardashian type hairstyle that I was wearing in 4^th grade.  Today is a complete failure. 

Bye Bye cut offs, tan legs and summer memories, I hate you Reese!

I’m pretty sure that the only person would be excited by any of my decisions is Dave Ramsay….for my ability to walk away from the cooler I didn’t really need but really wanted, the fact that I paid cash for my inappropriate ensemble and because in my moment of depression I didn’t buy the Valentino with Jesse’s credit card.  Well, there’s always tomorrow.

Ciao Little Mexico….Viva La Bama!!!

By the purchase of 2 big Macho Ferns and a few hey ya’lls I’m back in the south!  Big Chief got orders and like any good military family we loaded up a U-Haul with our most prized belongings (My Louis Vuitton and Kate Spade collection), the dog, one fish in a cup, 2 kids and the TVs to get out of Little Mexico and head towards to Ft. Rucker, Alabama.  Mother Rucker to the locals, or good ole fashioned America.  I’m not saying I hated Texas and all of Texas is bad, I’m just saying that when I rolled into my new quiet neighborhood with helicopters buzzing the house I may have gotten out of the car and fell to my knees and kissed the driveway.  Maybe.

We’ve been here a month.  We’ve almost settled in.  The one thing that has made this transition the success it has become is the frequent stops to LaBamba for white queso, or fake Mexican cheese as we call it.  No one in Texas knows of this delightful indulgent cheesy gooey goodness.  They are almost offended when you ask for it.  Trust me folks, they have heated up Tostitos dip and it has nothing on the white queso.  And if you’ve never had it, you should find a place right now or as my awesome mother in law would do…have it shipped to you on dry ice!  When you’re a frequent mover we have to start all over from scratch every time we move.  I’ve managed to find a hair salon on the first try, God must have felt sorry for me that day and knew I needed some good luck.   I was elated that we finally had the good grocery store, Publix.  Because if you weren’t a bread addict before you shopped there, you’re a full out bread crack head once you have.  I sneak in when they think I’m tanning to get my own box of French bread and fresh oatmeal raisin cookies.   Sure I look a little funny ending up at the check out with an empty bread bag and cookie box but one day those kids will have their own kids and know the struggle of just wanting it ALL for yourself, just once!  

When in Alabama there are two things we cherish here almost as much as the bible….Alabama Football that should always be followed by ROLL TIDE in the loudest voice you have and pork bbq.  In 4 weeks we’ve ate at 7 different bbq joints.  What?  I have to weigh my options you know.   Its also come to my attention that I may be failing in the Southern belle category because as I’ve noticed this week, I have nothing monogrammed and I’m not wearing maxi skirts.  Now, the maxi skirt probably isn’t going to happen, I realize it’s a staple here but seriously ladies, if your under 5’3” the only thing that does is chop us off at the knees and when you’re already the size of a garden gnome, you don’t need your knees chopped off.  But the monogram seems to be almost unforgivable here.  It’s everywhere.  Ladies monogram their purses, totes, shoes, jewelry and even their car windows.  I have one necklace with a “D” initial that is very monogramesque, I fear I won’t be accepted into the club.  They will know I’m an outsider. 

Baseball hats seem to be a big thing here in the south too.  Boys and girls are wearing their hats everywhere.  Of course the girl hats are monogrammed and being worn with their maxi skirts and Tory Burch sandals.  Clearly I’m being sent a message.  But the best part of moving back to the south is being welcomed.  Everyone here has been so nice.  They introduced themselves and brought wine.  Lots of wine.  I was shocked the glasses weren’t monogrammed, but that gives me an idea for when I need to return the favor.   We are almost settled in and planning our festivities.  I just hope I am able to find a monogrammed serving platter and napkins for the shrimp boil.   Maybe I’ll give away monogrammed koozies!!!  Look at me becoming one with my surroundings!!!!!!

Haymarket Koozies