Chasing My Blessings

I went for a hike with a good girlfriend of mine today. She is one of those people who you can be real with, nothing is TMI, and she loves and accepts me for who I am. No bullshit. And quite frankly, this is how most of my friendships are at this point in my life, because I don't really have the time or energy it takes to deal with anything more than that. While hiking and venting, we somehow got on the subject of dating. Well, I guess I should say, we talked about ME SOMEDAY dating. She is happily married to a wonderful man, so on some level she can almost relate to all these shitty feelings I have right now because her husband is like Bill was in many ways and she would be completely wrecked to lose him. Men like that are hard to come by. That's the bitch about all this. Bill was so amazing in every way (except for his singing voice), that I am convinced no one will ever hold a candle to him. Other people feel this way too. My cousin recently said to me, "Those are som...

People keep asking how I'm doing. "Oooh. How are you?," "How are you doing?," "Are you and the kids hanging in there?." I think it's fairly obvious that I'm pretty damn miserable. This is literally the threshold of hell people. My misery is so extreme in fact, that I have developed permanent frown lines. This makes my RBF (resting bitch face) even less attractive than it was before. Which you would think would deter people from asking, "How are you??," but apparently not. I took my kids to the bike shop yesterday to get my oldest fitted for a cylcocross bike. He is joining the juniors team this fall, and when he and his dad talked about it earlier this year, I'm not actually sure who was more excited between the two of them.  I walked into the bike shop armed with my three restless children, two of my husbands closest friends (who happen to also be very knowledgeable cross riders), a new credit card, and a false sense of str...

Today I washed the athletic clothing, and there just was simply not enough of it. Usually I have to do it a couple times a week, because Bill would have a dirty cycling kit almost every day and I did some form of exercise most days as well. I don't dry most of it, since it is mostly all some sort of spandex material, so on wash days the drying rack and any available hanger is usually full of cycling kits and other random spandex attire. And his red socks. He loved those socks and he wore them nearly every time he rode his bike. Now there are no red socks to look at. They are stuffed away in his closet that I refuse to clean out right now.  At one point I pulled out one of his RallySport jerseys from the washing machine and my heart skipped a beat. Then I remembered I had worn it to his memorial bike ride the week before.  Dummy,  I thought to myself.  He's still dead.   I had his friends take me out for a ride the other day. I met them in the parking l...

Landon shut his finger in the car door yesterday. We were in the parking lot of the ice cream shop. I ran into the shop carrying my screaming 6-year-old only to find that, THERE IS NO ICE AT THE ICE CREAM SHOP. Oh the irony. Luckily the restaurant next door had some, but that is seriously one black fingernail. Can't wait for the shit show when that falls off. Owen won't stop whining. He's three, so I'm used to him whining, but given our current situation and his lack of coping skills, it's pretty much ALL he does. When he isn't whining he's asking for daddy. "Me too." I say. "I want Daddy too." All the time. Day and night. Every second that goes by. The dog is confused. Where is her morning fetch partner? She sits on the sofa in the front room and watches out the window every evening, waiting for him to return from work. She is restless at night. She can't seem to get comfortable. She used to lay in between his legs and rest...

I wrote this about a year ago, but apparently I forgot to hit the publish button..... The other day I had a woman ask if I would be trying for a fourth so I could "get my girl." This happens quite often when people find out I have three little boys. I am usually pretty baffled by this, especially since more often than not, another mother is asking me. My usual response is something like, "No, I think we are done." What I REALLY want to say is, "You're an asshole." That's not the way this works people. When you sign up for the parenthood gig, you are signing up for a lot of unknowns, one of which is the sex of your child. This isn't some diner where you can just order off a menu of items - "Oh, I'll have a bouncing baby girl with a side of bright green eyes, and blond curls. And could you make sure she is extra sweet? None of that crying and tantrum crap. My system can't handle it." As my six-year-old so eloquently puts it,...

The mortuary called today. They wanted to make sure I was satisfied with my service and if there was anything more they could do to help. The man confirmed that my husband was delivered back home yesterday. No. He wasn't. What you brought me was a beautiful marble urn, filled with ashes and engraved with birth and death dates, and a silhouette of a cyclist. That is not my husband. My husband stands about 5'10', has piercing blue eyes, and a buzzed hair cut because he's balding. He has prominent cheek bones, fair, freckled skin, and a chiseled body with massive quads. He smells of sunblock and old spice. My husband is likely the smartest person you will have ever met. He is the definition of brilliant. He is kind and generous and always plays by the rules. He's the guy you call when you need help with ANYTHING. He is a doting father to our three little boys, who love and adore him more than life itself. What he lacks in his taste of music he more than makes up fo...

We almost made it to 12 years. One day shy. Hours really. Not long enough. An eternity with him wouldn't have been enough for me. I guess now I have to refer to him as my "late" husband. Late? What the hell is that? He was never late for anything. Except that one time he went for a ride and didn't come home when he was supposed to. I just keep thinking, "What in the actual FUCK has happened?" How the hell did this happen to us?!? He was invincible. Unstoppable. Nothing could get that man down. I can't imagine what his last moments must have been like. Did he know, as he was flying through the air about the land on the pavement, that it was all over? Did he even have time to react? Did he feel anything? I wish it could have been me that was there with him. So I could hold him and tell him how much I loved him and how he was the best thing that ever happened to me. Well, what I really wish was that the driver had missed him when she swerved into the ...

Some fun words and phrases brought to you by Owen: The Brothers - in reference to his brothers, i.e. "When are we going to pick the brothers up at the bus?" Eatmeal or Eatmoot - Oatmeal Hooker  - anything with a hook (a hanger, a coat hook, etc) Cutters  - scissors Hold You  - when he wants to be held Hairplane  - airplane Hairport  - airport Hold You -  When he wants to be held/picked up.