It’s time to start writing it all down before I begin to forget. Might as well make a ‘Captain’s Log’ .. if you will. I would love to take this opportunity to tell my few readers that I will contribute everyday to my blog in order to enrich my life memory img_20161231_141038542daily.

Let’s be real. I don’t have that kind of time. You see my track record. But MAYBE.. just maybe, I can start jotting down random thoughts in lists via the way my mind travels.. then revisit? .. oh look, I’m getting hopeful already.

My word for 2016 was “Happy”. I smashed that. Did I think that I was going to have to be alone to get it some where in the middle of 2016? Yes. I did. Thankfully, I got to October and things took a turn upward. I found my happy. Makes me feel better.. Kind of like Peter Pan. You know in the movie Hook when he had to think happy thoughts to fly? .. well, I’m so glad that I can fly now. Which leads me to my word for 2017:


Life is a journey, but if I always follow the path that I know– how in the hell am I gonna talk about my experiences? That will be boring to have grand kids sit around your feet and each story start with, well.. like usual — I went to .. Blah blah blah.. Adventure isn’t only at the grocery store! I decided that I honestly need to get out more and take more chances. I’m ready. And with J & j by my side and in my corner.. they got my back.

J & I have talked about in September going to New Orleans. I know what he wants to do, but I’ll wait until that chapter before I spoil the story.

BTW, My new pink frame round glasses are the cat’s meow. I love them.

Toasting off to a new year: Here’s to hoping 2017’s not that scary!

-Ms. B


So I’m the mom of a Junior…

As a mother, you do many things for your child.. such as birth him. You go through the agonizing waiting period of being pregnant. THEN! You go through the process of what seems like a longer wait to push what feels like a ball of lightning out of your groin area. The ooh & ahhs come later … well, not much later. Once you hear him cry, it’s like someone set of the most glorious symphony the world has ever heard. All of the pain disappears for that instant and your feel numb. The little, wiggly, slimy person that they are handing you at that moment is something YOU created. No one else. Oh, ok.. without the ‘push’ from the opposite gender, it would have never happened… I know. I’m sure he was enjoying the job while waving his magic wand. (Insert smiley face here for surrendering purposes. Please note that I’m a single mom and this is MY life. Not comparing to anyone.)

Through the years that my little guy and I have been hanging on to each other such as a mom and son do, we’ve developed a relationship that cannot be compared to any other alliance that either of us has had. Its a bond like no other. I’ve been his number one fan since before he was born and I’d like to think I’ve been some sort of guru or motivator for him. (Fingers crossed anyway.)

I have taught him to eat, talk, walk and basic lessons of life, like his colors, alphabet and numbers. I have changed multitudes of diapers, bathed him when dirty, held him when he cried (still do!) and even spoiled him like he needed. And even sometimes when he didn’t need it. I provided shelter and nourishment as well as discipline and basic skills to use later in his life.

As he grew up, I taught him how to ride his bike and encouraged him to get a really awesome hair cut to begin his trend of style. I helped him match his clothes to his shoes and even mended a few broken hearts, just by listening to him talk. (I taught him that…)

I have still taught him things as he values my opinion and comes to me for advice. I have aided in the heart ache of “puppy love” affairs and helped him learn from the actions that happened in the meantime. I have encouraged him to go out for things, such as football and to ask that one special girl to a dance. Just so we are all clear, he did it. He accomplished it too. I have helped him from being bullied and also told him to stand up for other little guys that get bullied.

Now, he’s becoming a grown man. As he will always be my little guy, letting him become his own person is so hard. I couldn’t even come up with a good metaphor to use because ‘hard’ is what it is. Separating my son from my apron strings is just hard. Putting him in what we call “boarding school” has not only been beneficial to him, but to me as well. However, those strings are still there. Just like iron to a magnet.

He has taught me so much from the short time he’s been on this earth. I honestly don’t think that I could have learned it from anyone else. His words make sense and it all clicks. (I think I taught him that too.)

Today, he became a junior in high school. It’s his first day. Public school this time. So many things have changed from when I went to school. In the back of my head, I was hoping that I wouldn’t be one of the people that say: “Back in my day…,” or “When I was in school…”.

But I am.

I can only imagine the memories he will make this year and the friendships that will bond for a lifetime.. Much like the friendships I have with most of my friends that I keep in touch with on Facebook.

I have to say of all the 4 years in high school, (to me) the most important (socially) is the Junior year.

Basic Junior year is:
You’re now an upper class man, so the nerves are gone, you know what to expect. Best thing is that freshmen and sophomores look up to you.

For some, a driver’s license.  My boy? … Hopefully he will get his permit next month. Then he can drive me around! 
You get your first REAL boyfriend or girlfriend. (You know, the one you think you’ll spend forever with — only to figure out later that she’s the reason your guard is up with future relationships because of the heartbreak caused by them. Minus Brad​ & Jenny​ of course. They were somehow born for each other. <3)
You get to go to prom and get all dressed up and let your mom take pictures of you for hours on the front lawn, while you swat bugs from your new hair doo and try not to sweat off your make up. You also make sure you don’t mess up your shoes or pedicure before you go. Heaven forbid you step in some present the dog left.

You do many fundraiser projects to that you can not only raise money for the prom, but also for graduation.
… you do senior pictures and you prepare to look for colleges. So many things.

This is the year.

My son will be a graduate of 2017 at the age of 17. That’s pretty significant, but the year of ’15-’16 will make the most impression of his lifetime. I’ve never been more proud of my son, Jake,​ than I am now. The pride is only going to grow more and more.

I just hope he realizes I’m still his biggest fan.

Wow. Just wow…

I say that when all I can do is shake my head. I have to say I’ve been shaking my head a lot. Just… wow.

Let’s face it. Idiots are everywhere.. but without idiots, how would we get the answers to questions that we are afraid to ask ourselves?

Before I start my rant… let me back up and explain to you where it began and where my breaking point was…

I love yahoo news. I don’t know why exactly, but I do. I love clicking the right button and scrolling through all of the little pictures and seeing what captions they can put under them in order to make them ‘must click news’. I’ve heard all about the Kardashians, the 5 things you just don’t say to guys, who got the longest pass in the football game the night before, who Simon Cowell impregnated, what to do to improve your house, what you shouldn’t do to improve your house, what jobs are poppin’ for new graduates…. you name it.. they’ve talked about it. And as much as they have talked about it.. so have I. I use it to break odd silences in car rides and to make myself sound like I know what I’m talking about.

I think I honestly got interested in what Yahoo! news had to say about 5 years ago when I thought I had found the end of the internet and nothing else was interesting. I mean seriously, how much p0rn can one person look at? Yes, there are places out there that have nothing to do with that, but I honestly had lost interest in the internet. I was tired of ‘chatting’ with people on messengers. I was tired of just looking through the same ol’ email.. I was tired of signing up for things and then being bombarded with multiple spams in my inbox telling me to buy this, look at that, sign up for this.. send me money here… So I stopped everything and opened Yahoo. Now I have to say, this is before I found pinterest or stumbleupon. I just looked at the front page of Yahoo and was in awe. Look at all that mess… (i shook my head)

I started to click links. I knew there had to be more to the internet than vast lands of coupons and online shopping (ebay & bidz) I needed something to catch my attention. Enter stage left: the yahoo headlines.  I clicked a picture with an interesting tag line and low and behold… I could comment on the article that was written.. just like all these other people that had something to say. 

I enjoy what some people have to say and in my head, I’m like: hell yeah.. couldn’t have said it better myself. Then.. there are those that comment on the article only to be irritating or mean to other people with opinions or questions. Those kind of people really put a kink in my herringbone.

A ‘how to’ article on hair color had a reader comment with a question that asked what dye was used in order to create the colors to tip on the hair. I was thinking the same thing!! I was like, seriously.. what dye for the hair is green, purple, pink, red, orange… so I can make my hair those pretty rainbowish colors??? And while looking for an answer from the instructor, I see a reply to the comment that reads: “I hate idiots!! It’s hair dye, stupid!!!” 

As I thought for a second, and said to myself, wow.. harsh. Then as if my screen to my computer was talking to me, I answered with a verbal — NU UH!! I’ve not seen those colors anywhere other than in Splat hair stain.. and this was supposed to be home remedies. I immediately got irritated at the comment. Did I reply? No. I didn’t stoop to that level of ignorance. 

Point to my blog? Everyone has a right to speak their mind, comment how they want, and question what they want to question without judgment of what other people think.  Now I can see it from the other side too.. those people also have the right to comment, question and speak their mind however they want… HOWEVER!!!!! The people that post questions are in fact people. Rude people should be rude on their own time. 

In the words of Thumper’s mom on Bambi: If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nuthin’ at all. 

I fell in the shower the other day….

I enjoy  waking up earlier than the other people in my house… well.. sometimes. To make that comment more understandable, I enjoy it after I’m awake and no one else is. The initial eye opening moment is not pleasurable. 

Each morning I’m woken up any where between the times of 7am and 8 am. Usually I’m nudged by Molly.. or pounced, licked and pawed by Nanas. Occasionally, Toro’s nose may find a way under my hand to wake me up too. Every once in a while I’ll get the “The babies wanna go out” by my other half.  I stretch as must as I am allowed only to stumble to the bedroom door to let the kids out… I then travel down the hallway to the babies’ room and let out the other eight. They are so cute when they are first waking up.. yawning before the initial bark.. sleepy ears and sweet smiles. Then all hell breaks loose and they are ready to be unleashed out of their crates. Once I open the doors, they run out like they are on fire, yipping the whole way. I quickly sneak to my own personal dressing room to grab my cell phone to check quick messages while I sit on the porch to watch the early risers make their business in the wet Florida grass.

It’s quiet unless someone’s walking around or if there are sonsofbitches in the yard. Sonsofbitches are any yard intruders that is not limited to squirrels, birds, neighbors within site, bugs, turtles, deer, rabbits…. I think you get the idea. Should one of them be awake and playing outside when my kids are released… omg… it’s howling galore. I can’t help but to laugh though…

After 30 minutes of watching them sit on the small deck, sniff around and make me proud, We go in. I separate the girls from the boys to avoid having more than 11 dogs and go back into my dressing quarters to log into the multiple emails and messages. This is my come to light moment. I’m now awake… and it’s quiet. I know you wouldn’t think that it would be quiet with 11 dogs, but they aren’t quite awake yet either… so they usually lay back down.

On this particular day, I took a moment to myself and decided to get in the shower. My knee had been bothering me and I felt grungy. I can say that I probably needed to shave my legs too.. but of all, I just wanted to stand under the water. I washed my hair and was getting ready to shave my legs when I felt my legs give way and I landed in a big swirling plop in the bath tub. I smacked my head on the faucet, and slipped and slid all over before I gathered myself to be still. 

If you can imagine, a voluptuous woman, dripping wet and sprawled out grasping for leverage in the bottom of the tub.. you’ll see something quite humorous. I can say (because it was me) that the first thing that traveled through my frantic brain is … oh great.. what did I break?

Here’s the messed up part: My dogs didn’t bark. 

I have chihuahuas. Anyone that has come in contact with these dogs knows that they bark as the sigh of a cricket fart. But they didn’t bark when their owner fell in the shower. All hell breaks loose if something else falls in there… like my razor falling off the wall, another dog walks down the hallway, a car door at the neighbor’s house… It’s a challenge to keep them quiet when my phone rings!! But NOOOOOO, when mom falls in the shower, it’s like it’s supposed to happen. You’d think my other half would wake up to wonder what’s going on and to see if I’m ok. If you thought that, you’d be wrong.

I had to gather myself off the floor of the shower, finish bathing and ask myself.. do I need life alert? Am I that old? Please say it isn’t so. I haven’t seen any gray hairs yet… but then again, I color/dye/stain my hair every 6-8 weeks. I feel a little rickety as I age.. but really??? Life alert was first in my head! Just to think that I used to make fun of the commercial about falling and not getting back up… sigh.. I’m so sorry.

At what age should I consider myself ‘old’? I certainly don’t feel it mentally.. but my body… Things are sagging in areas that they didn’t before and I have found 2 (yes 2!!!) wrinkles near my eyes that are deep enough to make me want to buy every cosmetic at Walgreens that will correct the problem. 

I have heard in the past years that you are as only as old as you feel. At the age of 30, I knew that every birthday thereafter would be an un-birthday… in which I will be removing one year for each one I supposedly gain. I’m looking forward to turning 21 again.. next year. Yeah yeah.. do the math.. I don’t look my age – but I can say I feel it. I’ve lived a lifetime of crap and good times. I have retired from 2 career choices so far (with nothing to show for it but experience).. but I’m still wanting to expand my learning potential and try something new. 

In all, I think you’re old when you stop wanting to experience & learn.. or is that when you die? I get confused.. 

The automated hold line

I know that everyone of us in this glorious green/blue planet have had to use the automated hold. Allow me to fill you in with my dilemma.

So as I sit here on indefinite hold for my boss for a live person to speak with at AT&T for tech support, I’m entertained by music from days gone by. No. It’s not ‘oldies’. It’s not the 70s … I’m going to say that it’s a mixture of underground one hit wonders that  either I remember hearing the songs once upon a time. Bobbing my head from side to side with my faithful bluetooth headset on, I find it difficult to actually lose myself in the music and forget the trouble that is brewing to ease my mind. Why? (You ask – because I’m that kind of person that likes to speak for someone else when no one else is present.) Glad you asked!! Within every 15-30 seconds (I haven’t been on hold long enough to actually time it yet, current hold time: 22m:26s) I hear a strong man’s voice that says “All of our representatives are still busy handling other people’s calls….. yadda yadda yadda”. 

I’m gonna have to call bullshit.

When I imagine what people are doing on the other end of the hold line, I picture parties and laughter to see how long a particular person will stay on hold until they actually hang up. I wonder sometimes if there are bets wagered. Mocking me.. 

I was about to say that at least there was no static within the hold music. I would have spoken (written) too soon. You know that station that you tune into in your car, that has a catchy tune.. and you find yourself humming or singing along? Then you hit a bad spot and there is static. At first, it’s ok.. the song is good enough to overcome the static, you think. It gets to the good part and now it’s muffled and fuzzy. What’s worse than listening to Bruce Hornsby and the Range sing with a raspy static to add to the song?.. oh wait.. there’s the famous guys voice again. GRRRRRR

I hope someone loses a bet today. I’m ordered to stay on hold until someone answers.. I’m right under 30 minutes now. I pray for sanity and the soul I want to rip apart for making me hold so frickin’ long!!