Monthly Archives: April 2015

Love and S**t


In five days, it will be the anniversary of the day that I met my husband, twelve years ago. I remember gathering at my friend’s house and picking out an outfit (boots, jeans, a red shirt with ties in the front), giggling and trying to figure out what he was like. My other friend was setting us up, and we went to a bar and met her boyfriend and Adam there. The first thing I thought about him was that he was very short, hoping that I wasn’t taller than him in my boots. The second thing I noticed was that he had a very nice smile, and then I saw that he was wearing an unfortunate pair of black shorts (that I believe I just threw out a couple years ago, though I was never seen in public with them again!). Adam is a people person, and will make friends with anyone in the room, so we didn’t have any trouble making conversation. I really, really liked his smile. We ended up leaving the bar and going for ice cream, just the two of us. It was the middle of the night and I drove a huge Buick at the time. We were driving down the road when suddenly Adam said, “Uh, Devon? The door won’t close.” He was literally hanging onto it as we went so as not to fall out on the pavement. I was so embarassed! We had to make a pit stop to get some duct tape and Adam taped the door shut (foreshadowing to MANY, MANY car repairs in the years to come.) We got our ice cream and headed back to my friend’s house, where Adam’s car was. Just before he got out of the car, he smiled that smile at me and told me that he had had a nice time, and then he kissed me.

We basically grew up together. That night we met grew into a first date (Olive Garden, klassy!) and two months later we were living in our own apartment. We were twenty three.

We have been through SO much. Tears and surgeries and babies and marriage and death and so many other things. He has always been able to make me laugh; I think that’s why we’ve lasted as long as we have, because no matter what we can laugh about it. He knows the careful arrangement of my covers before I can sleep, and I know that most nights I will have to wake him on the couch to come to bed. He can tell if I’m upset by my sigh. I know if something is bothering him because he stops talking (and NOTHING makes him stop, nothing). We made a beautiful son together.

Two years ago, we went through the toughest point in our relationship thus far. We actually seperated for a short period of time, but in that time I realized that I take my marriage vows very seriously and wasn’t willing to let 10+ years go just because of a bad year. We had so many GOOD memories and then one bad year and a half. We went to counseling and emerged, I think, stronger than before.

Adam’s mom shared a story of when we were first dating. She asked him if he thought this was serious, if things would go further. He looked at her and replied, “Mom, I love the shit out of her.”

I still love the shit out of him, too, and I’m glad we stuck it out.


I had a post all planned out to write today, but then something happened and that post went right out the window. Because guess what? My mom and I are going out to lunch on Sunday! Here’s what happened…

Yesterday was her birthday, and it was a hard one. I thought of her all day and finally, last night when I couldn’t sleep, I passive aggressively posted a picture on Facebook that said something about how I think of you everyday, and I wrote in the status… “Especially today.” I have to admit, I was hoping that she would see and know that at least I was thinking of her. So then this morning I noticed that I had a couple “likes” on that FB post and one of them was her. Yay! Even though I was a wimp, she got the message. So I’m sitting at work and I suddenly get a FB message. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw that it was from my mom. She simply said, “Can we go to lunch or something sometime?” Of course I wrote back right away and told her anytime! So we made plans for this weekend.

Ugh, you guys, I am so nervous! I don’t want to mess things up again, I don’t want to rehash all the old hurts, and we’re going to be in a public place so I don’t want to cry and/or yell! (I am a yeller, unfortunately). There is so much riding on this, and on the one hand I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself or her and then on the other hand my heart is singing because yay! Maybe things will work out and this whole thing will be OVER. And I’ll have my mom back.

I’ll write the planned post tomorrow, just needed to spew out my anxiety for a second here. So please, send good thoughts my way Sunday at noon!



I look at him and can’t believe he is the same baby who grunted in the bassinet at the foot of the bed, six short years ago. Today he went to his friend’s house, just like a regular little person. He was SO excited, has been planning and talking about it all week. His friend left him a message, breathless on the voicemail…”Cole, you are my best friend and I really hope you can come over. I miss you a lot.” A message that I don’t have the heart to erase. And when we got there, and he got out of the car, he was overwhelmed and stood there in silence as they orbited around each other and then disappeared. He didn’t say goodbye and I tried not to let it matter. He has his own life, now, and I am left with mine beginning to tear, beginning to rip where I built my life around him.
He fell asleep while I was reading his bedtime story, exhausted from this most exciting of days. I eased myself gently off his bed, turned on the fish light, clicked off his lamp. There is a ghost of my tiny baby in his face as he sleeps and I stood there for a long time watching him. He clutched his Pooh blanket and sighed deeply, and my heart swelled.
He is his own, wonderful person and I’m proud to know him.



How does one go about finding friends when one is an adult? As a child and teenager, I just made friends at school. Plus, I had my Julie, who was my very best friend. We were inseperable. I had my swim team friends, my choir friends, my school friends, and Julie. But now that I’m an adult, I’m just not sure where I go to find someone. If I’m not at work I’m at home with my family. Work friends- eh, I already spend more time with them then I do my own family. Cole isn’t at the place yet where he really has other kids that he hangs out with, letting me link myself onto their moms. I have lost touch with most high school friends. Julie is a post for another time, and I think I’ve already written one or two of those anyway.

I need a friend that wants to text constantly, who watches the same dumb reality TV shows as me, who loves Cole like their own child, who doesn’t mind Saturday nights spent in our pajamas. I need someone who understands my sometime agoraphobia and need for naps. If they like to gorge on queso dip and raw cookie dough, so much the better. But I don’t know where to find them! If you or anyone you know fits this discription, please contact me right away. I’ll have the TV ready for you!



I have a serious problem with laziness, in that I AM. I would prefer to spend all my days in bed, preferably with some kind of awesome reality show marathon on the T.V. That or a really good book. Every activity that I enjoy involves sitting…reading, watching T.V., blogging, writing, etc. I think of projects and RUSH into them, so excited and so pumped to be getting something started when I lose the momentum and the project never gets done. Why can’t I have a job that requires me to stay in bed at all times?

Cole is experiencing some growing pains. He has been grouchy lately, doing things that he knows he’s not supposed to do and then whining when he gets in trouble. He got all bent out of shape the other day about something silly. Upon further questioning, it came out that he was missing our old neighbor. Cole was in LOVE with their little girl; an older woman that he was sure he was to spend the rest of his life with. Unfortunately, his parents thought otherwise and had the nerve to move her out of there. She has been gone since October, but Cole (*pitiful, make me cry!*) tells me that he still dreams of her and wishes he could introduce her to his Nanny. How sweet is that! He also said that he only wants to go to Nanny’s house and wants to live there because she has Wi-Fi. Sigh.

The card still resides in the drawer. I used the excuse that I didn’t have a stamp but that doesn’t fly when it has been two weeks and stamps are under a dollar. I’m just not brave enough… yet. I’ll get there.

Movie Memories


When I was a kid I was allowed to rent one movie a weekend, invariably I would pick between the same two…”Hello Again” and “Hairspray”. My best friend Brandi would come over and we were allowed to sleep on the pull-out couch bed. I remember staying at her house, too. She lived with her dad and we could do whatever we wanted. I watched my first R rated movie there, saw SNL for the first time. There, we slept in the basement on velour couches. Once I woke on my couch with a start…I had peed! I panicked. I absolutely COULDN’T tell anyone, too humiliating. So I turned that cushion over and never told a soul.

“Hairspray” is on right now, and I can taste my dad’s popcorn.   Feeling nostalgic. “Free Tracey Turnblad!”

Wanting my Mom


The other day I found the perfect thing on Pinterest but my phone is outdated and dumb so I couldn’t post it to my Facebook, which I was trying to do because I passive-aggressively wanted my mom to see it on there without actually TELLING her that it was there and for her. Basically it said something to the effect of “I was going to say all these terrible things but then I realized I just want to say I miss you,” or something like that.

I’m really opening up here, because my mom is a sensitive subject. I may cry, I may yell at you for no reason, or I may refuse to talk at all. I have started and stopped a million times in this post because everything’s all mixed up.

I had an idealic childhood. Some shit happened but shit happens to everyone and basically when I look back I just think of rainbows and bubbles and trips to the beach. There was a lot of laughter at my house, lots of good natured teasing and good old fashioned family togetherness. For a while, there was even a forced “Family Fun Night” which sounds like it was on some sitcom but was real. I was so lucky. And my mom was my entire world. She was my best friend; I was actually so close to her (and such a dork) that I would call her during lunch everyday in high school, just to tell her about my day.

I accidentally grew up and became an “adult”. (word in quotes because even on my best days I feel like I’m sixteen, tops) My mom and I continued to be close, just from seperate houses. However, wherever she was was still home to me. Sunday dinners, holidays, random days, we were still together. We talked on the phone all the time. When I got married and had a baby, sure, that slowed down a little as is natural, but I still turned to her for all things baby related and made sure to text her any and all funny/cute things that Cole did. She and my mother in law were the only people I would trust my baby with; in fact, I remember a dark time right after I had him, deep in the throes of postpartum depression, where she physically took the baby from me and forced me to go home and sleep, which I did for about fourteen hours.

About two years ago, a huge family crisis. My husband made a HUGE mistake, and it affected my mom and family gravely and horribly. I thought we could make it through it, thought that our bond was unbreakable, but I was wrong. Suddenly my best friend thought that every choice I was making was the absolute wrong one, and had opinions on how I was raising my kid (wrong), where I was raising him (wrong) and whether or not to stay with my husband. I chose to stay, which was also wrong. It culminated in a horrible Intervention type episode, with various members of my extended family there to add to the humiliation.

I needed a break. I couldn’t deal with the whole thing anymore, I needed to get my own life fixed and needed to start gluing my own broken family back together. I only meant to go away for a little while, but time stretched out and all of a sudden it was six months and I didn’t know what to say or how to break the ice, and then it was a year and even more weird. I avoid confrontation at all costs; my MO is usually to just avoid the situation until it goes away, which it rarely does but I don’t seem to be able to break the cycle. I didn’t want to have to rehash everything that had gone wrong and how much I had hurt everyone… I already knew.

I KNOW that I was wrong, but I also know that she was wrong in some ways too. I wish we could just start fresh and never talk about what happened in the past, but I don’t know if that’s possible. I don’t know what the first step is… I actually have a card that I’ve written yet failed to mail because I’m a coward. I guess I don’t want to be rejected, though I wouldn’t be any worse off than I am now. It is unreal to me that I am even typing these words; I NEVER would have guessed in a million years that I wouldn’t talk to my mom, my best friend.

Sometimes I’ll catch a whiff of her scent, or someone’s kind eyes will remind me of her. She always seemed to have a glittery sheen to her skin, which when I was little I attributed to magic and still kind of do to this day. More than anything I want to feel her arms around me and have her stroke my hair.

So there is really no neat solution to wrap up this post. I’m hoping that someday soon I will be able to come back here and tell you all that we have made up and it is all sunshine and rainbows again. I hope to find the courage to send this card that is burning a hole in my desk drawer. So we’ll see.