Category Archives: mom

Six Days Out…

I asked my Aunt yesterday to help us set up the pavilion pre-ceremony, as well as to help me get ready at the church. It means A LOT to me, since she’s the closest, biologically, to my mother. If my Mom can’t be there to zip me into my dress, my Aunt is the next best. I know it meant a lot to her that I asked. 

I told Finn this, in front of his brother (the one who guilted him into naming him best man, but that’s a whole other can of WTF), who was there to pick him up for his bachelor party. After that conversation, the following happened. 

BM = brother/best man 

F = Finn 

M = Me

BM – I’m not going to be able to help set-up for the reception. I have to work the night before. 

M – That’s ok, my Aunt and Uncle said they’d help. 

BM – FBIL and FSIL (the ones I’ve posted about. Repetitively) are going to help decorate. 

M – No, that’s ok. Aunt and Uncle will be there. 

F – (says something I forget)

BM – FBIL and FSIL WILL help. 

… silence …

First of all, I FUCKING HATE to be told how things are going to happen. 

Second of all neither Finn nor I do well with demands, and that’s exactly what it felt like. 

Third of all, we haven’t asked them for their input on ANYTHING. Absolutely nothing at all. In fact, I’ve avoided giving FSIL any details. 

Fourth of all (seriously?), No. Just… No. His family have done all they can to take over the ceremony. The reception is MY baby. It’s my blood (no, literally, I cut myself a couple of times), sweat, and tears that went into planning out the decorations, and then making them WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS. I will most definitely lose my shit if someone ruins any of my hard work. 

So, yeah. I’m fucking irritated. They’ve done everything they can to take over this wedding, and I’m at my wits end with the whole lot of them. 

Finn’s not to happy with them at this point, either. BM said he was planning on leaving the reception after his speech, told us that their mom probably won’t come to the reception (that one I 100% understand, as she just had surgery), and that the rest of the family probably won’t, either. Finn said that if they don’t come, he won’t speak to any of them for a year. 

Six more days of this shit, and I’m done. 


Eight Years…

It’s 0504, and I’ve already been awake for nearly an hour. Today’s one of those days that I would have preferred to just sleep through. 

Today marks eight years since my momma’s passing. Almost exactly this time of morning August 20th, 2009 I got the call to gather the family. She’d denied her breathing treatment, and her heart stopped. They gave her a shot of adrenaline to her heart and did CPR, but it was too late. She was brain dead and only alive due to the machines. 

She was done fighting. I don’t blame her. But losing her left a hole in my heart that will never be filled. She was more than my mom. She was my best friend. 

Love and miss you forever, mom. 

11/09/50 – 08/20/09

A Letter to My Momma…


I’m getting married! We have 59 days left to go. It’s been so hard without you here to bounce ideas off of. You’re going to be represented in small, but obvious ways. My dress, OMG my dress. It’s amazing! It’s light and airy, and GREY. Grey, the color that represents lung disease awareness. I didn’t even realize it until my dress was in my arms. 

The flowers were another happy accident. Lilacs, roses, lilies, hydrangeas. All flowers I know you loved. It was almost like you’d been guiding my hand as I picked them out. I’m even using eucalyptus as filler, because the smell relaxes me because you always had a eucalyptus spray sitting on the fireplace when I was growing up. Small things my fiance’s family won’t think twice about, but our side will definitely see it. 

My necklace is doubled-stranded, with two open filigree lockets. One locket has your birthstone, the other has my fiance’s. I attached another locket to dad’s boutoneer with both of your birthstones inside. 

But mom, things are going sideways. My fiance’s family is driving me bat shit insane. His mom claims it’s our wedding, and tells us to do what we want, but then turns around and puts down all of our ideas. Sunday, she even questioned why I want to wear boots. Mom, the wedding is a rustic/country theme. of course I want to wear cowboy boots. It’s part of who I am. 

His brother’s wife is trying to pretend they’re part of the bridal party. She’s trying to have her and her husband match us. It’s annoying, but far from the end of the world. I’ll just make sure the photographer keeps them on the outside of group photos. His mom did, however, ask if I had a preference as to what color she wears. I told her anything but grey or pale pink, as that’s what my MOH and I are wearing. I’m hoping that gets spread through the family. I told my fiancé and added that I hope she realizes white is included in that. He said he hopes so, too. Even he knows you don’t wear white to someone else’s wedding. 

As our wedding day inches nearer, I’m missing you more and more. I’ve ugly cried more than once. You may not be there physically, but I’ll make damn sure you’ll be there spiritually. 

Monday Bitchfest 7/31

What a fucking weekend…

Plans canceled last minute, a surprise visit from my uncle, a random friend request from my XH… 

I’d had plans with my father to take Z top an annual event I hadn’t been too since 2001. We’ve had these plans since March. To the point of rearranging Z’s visitation with his father so we could make it to said event…

 He canceled last minute. And since Finn had to work, Z and I had no other way to make it there. Only to find out when I called my dad to let him know my uncle was pulling into my neighborhood he went to said event without me or Z. I was heartbroken. I haven’t let Z know. 

The reason for my uncle’s visit? He left his wife. Some shit has been going on behind the scenes. The biggest one is that a paternity test proved that his 13 year old daughter isn’t his. On top of that, his wife of 20 years caused him too lose his SSI, takes their car to haul their neighbours to and from the store and appointments, causing him to miss his own appointments. Doctors, therapists, psychologists. We have a trifecta of abuse: medical neglect, emotional abuse, AND psychological abuse. My uncle is diagnosed bipolar, and she’s preventing him from getting his necessary medications for it. 

While my uncle was here, I get a phone call from FMIL (future mother-in-law, Finn’s mom) to cancel the cookout we’d been invited to yesterday. 

Why? Because they suddenly had to tear up their carpet to install hardwood floors. There wouldn’t be enough room for everyone. Oh, but of course,  they wanted Finn there to help. 

I. Lost. It. It felt as though Z and I were unwanted and unwelcome. As I’ve told Finn, little things add up. They constantly cancel last minute, or refuse to come to any event we have at our place. 

Finn didn’t go yesterday. He tried calling both his mom & dad, but neither answered. He didn’t leave a message for either. 

I had an emotional breakdown yesterday. After Saturday’s events, I told Finn I was feeling unwanted and rejected by both sets of parents. I was already emotionally on edge, so it caused an argument. He said I was making a mountain out of a mole hill. I told him little things add up. 

I was trying to calm myself, so I started playing with my hair. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my mom’s face. I look just like my mom. I’ve already been missing her and thinking of her daily, so add in the extra emotional stuff from Saturday, plus the anniversary of her passing coming up quick, and it was just a disaster waiting to happen. 

Family Dysfuntion

Necessary Background:


I’m the youngest  of six kids. I’m the product of my mom’s thirdn marriage, my father’s second. I’m the only child they had together. My mom had two sons by her first husband, and two daughters by her second. My father had a son by his first wife. My mom passed away several years ago. My father has since remarried.


Got that? Good. Cause it’s about to get even more complicated.


My youngest sister (YS) has a few undiagnosed mental issues (Definitely a Cluster B disorder). For as long as I can remember, she has to make everything about herself. She has a victim complex. If she feels like someone else is getting attention she believes she deserves, she’ll pick a fight with her chosen victim (usually me or my dad, her step-father). Due to this, she started a fight with my step-mother, causing my whole family to stop talking  to each other for YEARS. My father didn’t speak to me for almost three years, because he believed YS’s lies. We’ve since repaired the relationship. I’m now back in contact with everyone. Except her.


A few years back, my father brought me two boxes of family photos, along with my mother’s urn. The only things she didn’t steal when someone let her in my dad’s house. I didn’t ask for any of it. But when my sister found out, she blew a gasket.


Keep in mind, we hadn’t spoken in at least 4 years at that point. I was working on my spine. About two years ago, she re-added me on Facebook, I approved because I’m an idiot, thinking maybe she’d changed. Nope. Within a week, she was harassing me about “when we could go through the pictures,” I gave her times and dates of when I’d be available, but none of them were ever good enough. I eventually just went through the pictures and dropped the ones she specifically mentioned to her husband.


Ohhhh, no. That still wasn’t good enough. She wanted me to drop what I was doing and go to her house to show them to her. (Side step for a minute: My sister is the very embodiment of the ‘Crazy Cat Lady’. She has several cats that refuse to use the litter box, so her whole house has essentially become a litter box. On top of that, she’s also a boarder-line hoarder. It was God-awful the last time I was there in 2009, and I’m told it’s only gotten worse in the past almost eight years. So, how about no? I have zero desire to step foot into that bio-hazard.) After a day or two, she went quite on the subject. So I had assumed it was over.


I did mention I’m an idiot, didn’t I?


Things were quiet, for almost a year and a half (I’ll tell the Thanksgiving story in another post. Maybe), until I announced my engagement to my fiance last week.


I really, really should have seen it coming. (Told you, I’m an idiot.)


She started in on it within hours of finding out. Texting Older Sister (OS). Trying to find information on my dad. OS swears she gray-rocked her. But someone gave YS my dad’s phone number. And she harassed him while he was at work. I was shown the texts, and while they look innocent enough to an outsider, they were full of a Narc’s attempt at hoovering. My dad didn’t fall for it (Smart man.), and when that didn’t work, she took it to Facebook. Where I ignored it. Even when she commented directly on my posts.


I FINALLY grey-rocked the hell outta her. Even when she commented on a post someone else posted on my page. The only reaction that got out of me was to delete it, because it brought my son into it (that’s another issue entirely. His father is alienating me. Changes his number at least every other month, and doesn’t tell my son, so it looks like I’m not trying to contact him. It’s heartbreaking. And her comment pretty much ruined my mother’s day.) Immediately after she posted it, she blocked me. I guess she thought I wouldn’t be able to see it? Or wouldn’t be able to delete the comment, since it wasn’t on my original post? Either way, I was able to do both.


I have also blocked all of her known accounts (Up to 5 now. WTF??), just in case she decides to unblock me to start more shit.




Here We Go…

I really didn’t want to have to write this post.

I’m fucking terrified. The initial tests came back from the fluid they drained from Scott’s lung, and it’s bad news. They found cancerous cells. There’s obviously more testing to be done, so we can find out what type and stage.

I’m heartbroken and terrified, but trying to hold it together. It took me 31 years to find this man, and after only having eight months with him, I’m faced with the (very real) possibility of losing him. Everyone keeps telling me he’ll be fine, that he’ll beat it. They haven’t seen cancer the way I have. They haven’t seen their mother wilt away. There’s not some magic pill that’s just going to make this go away.

This blog is about to get real, real fast.

Fuck you, cancer.


Yet Another Blow…

Scott finally went to urgent care this morning, and was sent to the hospital. He’s got fluid in his left lung.

Fuck you, 2015. Fuck. You.

So, he was admitted to drain the fluid. I’m going to go visit him tomorrow.

I’m so worried. I’ve seen this before. My mom. I keep flashing back to her in the hospital having fluid drained from her lungs. He just called me, and while I feel better having spoke to him, I’m still worried and freaking out.

What a way to start 2015…

With a migraine. What fun. /sarcasm.  My family seems to be a bunch of walking barometers, we all feel it when atmospheric pressure starts to decline. Scott feels it, too. Just not his head. With him, it’s the injuries from his accident.

I’ve never mentioned his accident before, because it’s not my story to tell, but my life would be vastly different today had he not been in the accident, or if they hadn’t been able to resuscitate him. Either way, I never would have met him the second time around.

He had to work NYE, so of course, I went with him, since Z is still with his father. It was my first time ever going out for NYE, and also, my first midnight kiss. Maybe. I honestly can’t remember. I’m not 100% on whether or not I kissed STBXH last year. I don’t think I did.

I told Scott that since we started the new year together, we’re ending it together. He is the sweetest. I love him. So much. I can’t wait to continue our love story.


30 day blog challenge, day 19

Difficult time in my life

Wow. This one kinda touches a nerve. I’ve gone through a lot of difficult times in my life, but August 2009 was the absolute worst.

It started in late July. I hacked into my ex husband’s MySpace account and found messages from a girl named Aryn, talking about a three-some they’d had during our engagement. Um. Excuse me? (It should be noted that this was less than 12 hours after he essentially raped me) I call him at work, holding the phone an arm’s length away as I scream at him. His boss, also his father, heard me, sends him home.

All kinds of excuses…

Mistaken identity.
How? You have an uncommon name. She knew where you worked, lived, and your roommate by name. (Not buying it)

I… I don’t know, it could have happened, but I was too fucked up to remember.
Riiiight. You got so high/drunk/fucked up to remember you had a fiance?

Two days later, we’re out school shopping and my mom calls me to ask where her cigarettes are. He looked me dead in the eye, with my kids in the backseat and says “One of these days, she’s going to light up a cigarette and keel over, dead.”

And… I’m done. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house.

Three weeks to the day after finding out he cheated on me, my Mom lost her battle with lung cancer.

30 day blog challenge, days 15-18


Day 15
Photo of your handwriting


Day 16
Proudest moment

I’m the only one of my Mom’s five children that went all the way through school and actually graduate with a high school diploma. Two of my siblings got their GED.

Day 17
Meaning behind my blog name…

Starting Fresh. I’m in the process of completely rebuilding my life after failed marriage #2.

Day 18
My collections

I collect angels. It’s something I got from my mom. I have most of the angels she collected.

I also used to collect frogs, but due to way too many moves, I’ve lost the majority of them.