Happy holidays everyone! Well, better late than never, right? I had wanted to post such a message earlier, preferably before Christmas, but no such luck. Anyway, here ya go, the Christmas tree pics, tadahhh!! And look, you can actually see them, thanks entirely to the brand spanking new digital camera my mom and stepdad got me for Christmas, whoohoo! We wanted to make more ornaments, but quite frankly, this thing took way more time than I ever thought it would. But hey, at least we got the thing up before Christmas (Saturday to be exact).

Well, I thought we had ourselves a genuine Christmas miracle on Christmas day. There we are, all sitting around the table at Bub’s house after Christmas dinner (well, lunch actually) playing a rousing game of Canasta, when the phone rang with another possible buyer for the Durango. We do get quite a few calls on it, even though most don’t pan out. Anyway, this guy was saying that he wanted to buy it TODAY and take it home with a big bow on it for his wife as a Christmas present. Hot damn, an impulse buyer, YESSSSS! So we stop mid-game and head on over to give the dude a test drive. He definitely wants to buy and asks if we will take a check. Well sure, if you wanna wait til the check clears to take it home, otherwise, nadda. Okay, will you take a credit card? Why sure! Bub has that capability through PayPal or something because of his numerous (failed) business ventures. So he runs the card and there’s some problem with PayPal or the card not allowing that much to be taken at one time because it’s seen as a cash transaction or some crap like that. So no go again, bummer! In the end, the guy ends up writing a check and saying that he’ll pick up the car after we verify the funds the next day. Of course, he tried his darnedest to talk us into letting him take the car that day, reassuring us that the check would be good, and how much he wanted it to be a Christmas surprise for his wife, but we held strong and didn’t let him have it. Well low and behold, the check was bad. In fact, the bank said that this account number didn’t even exist! He gave us some crap about how he just opened the account and that the funds must not be available yet, yadda yadda yadda. Well if that was the case then how come he said to just forget about it rather than going down to the bank to pull out the cash or a cashier’s check?? Because the creep was trying to con us, that’s why! I guess he thought he’d be able to talk us into letting him have the truck that day, and when we didn’t maybe he thought we’d just deposit the check and he’d be long gone with the car before the check could bounce. I dunno, but I do know that I’m sick of this shit. It’s a nice car, can’t someone (legitimate) please just buy the damn thing, please?! Ug.

Well, I think I’m finally getting back on track with the eats. I realize that I don’t have the luxury of feeling apathetic about this one. Other stuff, sure, but not this. I’m going back to counting days of clean eats/abstinence, and so far so good. I still need to get back into exercise mode, but I’m certain I’ll get there. I remember how good and rewarding it feels, and I want that again. I understand that I really don’t have to be perfect, that every single bite doesn’t have to be meticulously controlled and accounted for. I know that I can do this in real life, in freedom and in peace. I know that I can do this because I am in charge of me. Not the food, not another person, not another thing, just me. So that's what I'm going to be working on; discovering a new normal, and figuring out what really works for the woman I am today, rather than the one I had turned into out of desperation. Hmmm, funny that this blog is titled finding me. Perhaps I'm actually starting to succeed a little, huh?

Okay, I’m not so cranky anymore. I realize that a child’s father serves a purpose in the child’s life just by being her dad, and a male figure in her life, but DAMN! I just wish I had picked a better one for her. Anyway, ‘nuff of that. My brother had a very close call yesterday. Too close if you ask me! He was driving through an intersection (green light, his right of way) and an older lady either didn’t see him or misjudged the distance and attempted to make a turn right in front of him. I say attempted because she never actually completed the turn due to my brother’s truck smashing directly into the side of her car! He’s okay; he just hurt his wrist a bit when the airbag hit it as he was holding the steering wheel in a death grip while willing the impending collision not to occur. Y’know, like when you put your “breaks” on in the passenger seat?? ;D Anyway, here’s the real kicker; he was actually on the phone with my SIL when the accident happened! Can you imagine?? Blabbing away then all of a sudden you hear “Oh SHIT!” then squalling tires and crumpling metal. OMG, it makes a lump in my throat just thinking about it. (It also reminds me of that line about traffic accidents from one of Bill Cosby’s comedy tapes; “First you say it, then you do it! Heehee, but I digress) Luckily he was able to retrieve the phone right away and tell her that there was an accident, but he that he WAS okay. Unfortunately, the other lady wasn’t so lucky. Her sucky ass day ended in a trip to the ER via ambulance, but she should be just fine as well.

So, I’ve been thinking a bit about the food stuff in relation to my current emotional state. Or should I say, lack of emotional state. Y’see, this Paxil is some really good shit, but I’m thinking perhaps a bit too good because not a whole lot really gets to me anymore, including worrying or caring even about maintaining a healthy lifestyle. See, it took away those frantic, out of control, bingy feelings, but I seem to be left with an apathetic attitude towards, well, most everything. So from that aspect, I’m not liking this too much. I think a lot of my weight loss success came from my intense need for structure and rigidity. I needed to do it perfectly, so much so that I became a bit obsessed with it all. In the aftermath of my leaving Bub, I seemed to lose the structure along the way, thus sending me into an emotional tailspin, and perpetrating the need (in my view) for a little medical intervention. Well, I got what I wanted, but now what? Cuz this apathy shit ain’t gonna cut it either! Can’t there ever just be a happy medium??

So now that I have noticed this unpleasant little side effect, I can’t help but wonder what exactly would happen if I were to give up the Paxil? I wonder how much I really need it now, but I think I only wonder that because I’m not such an emotional wreck anymore, due to the effects of said medication. I’m guessing coming off of it would only perpetuate another downward spiral, and quite frankly, I just can’t do that again. It was bad, worse than I let on to anyone, but that’s my way, as you all know. So what’s the problem? Just stay on the meds, right? Well, here’s the freakin’ problem, allowing myself to apathetically eat my back into morbid obesity is simply not an option, period. I WON’T do that again. So what then? I don’t quite know just yet, but I have to figure it out, and fast! Right now I find myself conveniently caught up in the “wait til after the holidays” mindset, and my many attempts to shake it off have proven quite futile. I keep thinking c’mon already, I know this shit; lord knows I preached it long enough. It’s not all or none, it’s not too late to salvage the day (or week) after one (or a few) bad choices. I KNOW this shit, yet here I am, letting myself get away with it and not really caring much either way. Again, where exactly is that happy medium I so covet? It is out there somewhere, right?? Just smile and nod in agreement, will’ya? I do believe there’s a Santa Claus, I do, I do!!

No tree yet. We started working on it, but Em spent the weekend with Bub so we haven’t made as much progress as I was hoping we would by now. But have no fear, pics are forthcoming, I promise. Teehee, speaking of Em spending the weekend with Bub. She went over there on Saturday and immediately asked to have her friend from down the street come over to play, which he consented to. Then they finagled him into letting the friend spend the night, and whoaaaa doggy, what an experience that turned out to be! Snicker, snicker. See, Em never had friends stay the night before we left, so this was all new to him. They stayed up all night, literally all night. It was 4am before he finally gave Em 2 tsp. of Nyquil, yes NYQUIL out of desperation to knock her out. Sure, she had a cold, but c’mon, Nyquil?! Idiot. Anyway, they (the kids) fought A LOT and were hyper and super sneaky and being typical 9 and 11 year old girls. But, like I said, he’s never had the pleasure of experiencing this time-honored tradition of a girl slumber party before, so he naturally blamed Em for their poor judgment and behavior, and for not leading her friend (a straight up Eddie Haskel type) by example in the sort of behavior he expects out of her. Ug. They did have fun, whenever he just let them be, but that doesn’t exactly change the fact that she came home crying… again, and was an exhausted, emotional wreck for the rest of the night. Oh, and get this, after he let them sleep til NOON (not that he let them per say, they had to wake him up) he had the nerve to call me to see if I would come get everyone and go out to lunch cuz he didn’t feel like cooking and he had already ordered pizza the night before so he didn’t just want to do that again. Um, NO, deal with it buddy! So he gave them Ramen Noodle Soup, goody. So, of course, Em wasn’t tired AT ALL by bedtime Sunday night, stayed wide awake til around midnight, and was an absolute bear this morning. Tired, cranky, emotional, oooooh fun! How nice to get the leftovers of fun daddy syndrome. Seriously, what purpose does this man serve in Em’s life?? I get that he can be very fun and playful when in the right mood, and that his juvenile behavior makes for some pretty exciting, creative and spontaneous times, but what about everything else? Awww, forget it, I didn’t get enough sleep last night either so I’m just being cynical and cranky myself. We are who we are. I will continue being me, he will continue being an idiot, and Em will make it to adulthood just like everyone else, childhood baggage and all. It’s not like I’m giving up or anything, it’s just that I can’t do anything about him being in her life, (or being an idiot) so all I can do is try to make the best of what I have. That’s life.

So the kitty is doing well, still pretty shook up, but relatively unharmed nonetheless. He seems to have transformed overnight into an old lazy cat, rather than the super hyper crazy young kitty that he was prior to the “tree incident”. Now he mostly lies on the back of the couch sleeping and licking himself whenever the mood strikes. Ahh, a kitty’s life… ;D

What a weekend!

No, still no new buyers on that stupid car, grrrr! Nope, we were just BUSY! Saturday was supposed to be a show put on by Em’s gymnastics studio, showcasing all the newly learned talents of each of the classes held there, but not being one to comfortably perform in front of strangers, Em opted out last minute. I know, shocking to those who know her, being the irrepressible ham that she is, but this is quite typical of her, until you get to know her that is! So we headed over to the mobile home lots so we could wander through them oohing and ahhing over all the cool amenities they offer for the price. Not that I’m looking to buy one, since they aren’t allowed within city limits, we like to look, just cuz. Anyway, we just were killing time until the gymnastics show was supposed to start at 1:45 because the plan was to pick Bub up so he could watch her too. Good thing she decided not to go though, because by the time I was finally able to rouse him out of bed via phone, it was already past time we were supposed to have left. Nothing new for him, he’s slept through many a special event, but I’m just glad his thoughtlessness didn’t end up ruining Em’s day… again. Anyway, I told him that she had changed her mind about the gymnastics thing, so we made plans to meet up with him later, in time for the movie we had already planned to see after the show. Whoohoo, less Bubba time, gotta like that! So we went happily back to our perusing of mobile homes, then we headed to Walmart to pick up a gingerbread house kit to decorate. Usually, we go to my dad and stepmom’s house to make gingerbread houses each year, but I guess our invite must have gotten lost in the mail this time, huh? ;D We had just enough time to get the base of the house put together before it was time for the movie, so we set the rest aside to finish later. We went to see Deck The Halls with Danny DeVito and Matthew Broderick. It was cute and funny and… Christmasy! Then out to dinner with Bub, which Em had a sudden bout of sullen quietness on the way to. Bub, of course, got on to her because she wasn’t responding appropriately, but that’s Bub. She told me later that she just started thinking of when we left, and how upset daddy must have felt at first. She didn’t know why it popped into her head, but it did just the same. I consoled her and told her again how none of it was her doing, and nothing she has to worry or feel bad about. Poor baby, so much for one little soul to bear. After dinner, we dropped him home as he was having a “get together” that night. Meaning that he, his roommates, and a few of his friends were going to celebrate his newfound freedom and re-admittance into full fledged, guilt free adolescence with a liquor laden all night party. I must admit, I harbored a few fleeting hopes of alcohol poisoning or a drunken header into the corner of some piercingly sharp object, but alas, karma somehow managed to let the opportunity lapse once again. Oh well, in the meantime Em and I finished up our gingerbread house, and took a couple of quick shots to show off our handy work.

Sunday morning brought breakfast out, then knowing that Bub would spend much of the day sleeping off his “get together”, we took the opportunity to enjoy an uninterrupted day, and got the hell outta dodge! We went to North Little Rock, where we hit the mall and hung out for most of the day just going from one attraction to the next, seeking out whatever happened to strike our fancy. Afterwards we found a small city park and spent a good deal of time playing and burning off energy. Then, on the way back home after dark, we happened to see a magnificent Christmas light display off of the freeway, so I quickly took the next exit in hopes of finding the source of the brilliant lights. We wandered for a bit in the general direction of where it should be, but I soon realized that I was gonna need a little help to find it, so I pulled into a gas station and asked the helpful attendant for a little direction. She knew exactly what I was talking about and told me precisely how to get there. Woohoo, success! It was a drive-through light display in one of the major city parks, so not only did we get to experience the spectacular display up close, but we also found another fantastic park we can go to when we feel like playing. We saw some really great looking playground equipment that Em was just chomping at the bit to get to, even in the dark. Hopefully we’ll be able to get back there next weekend to check it out. Anyway, we finally made it home after a very long, full day out, and as soon as I opened the door it was apparent that something was very wrong in the apartment. It took a moment to register, but I quickly realized that the Christmas tree was no longer resting in its spot in the corner. There were ornaments strewn about the living room floor and down the hall, and there, at the end of the hall, half in and half out of the bathroom doorway, was the (artificial) Christmas tree lying in a big, tangled heap. Then, from beneath the pile came the most pitiful, yowling meow/moan. The kitty, (aptly named Mischief) was trapped, hopelessly entangled in the Christmas lights, and crying out for help. It was undoubtedly a disturbing sight as the poor little guy had obviously tried to chew and claw his way through the wires and there was some blood from the minor wounds he acquired in doing so. Upon seeing this, Em promptly lost her freaking mind and began screaming and crying uncontrollably. I’m sure she thought the kitty had been mortally wounded, and the image of the whole chaotic mess was just too much for her to comprehend. Then, when I asked her to run get me the scissors, I can only assume that she thought I meant to cut the kitty’s paws off in order to free him because she proceeded to lose her mind even further, as if that were even possible. I finally ended up telling her that the neighbors were going to start calling the police if she couldn’t get control of herself, and she began to calm down a little. I explained that I needed the scissors to cut through the wires, so she finally got them and I was able to free the poor kitty from confines of his Christmas tree hell. He then quickly scurried away from the evil, demon tree, showing me that he did at least have full use of all four legs, thank goodness! He seems to be okay, although extremely timid and skittish, and has absolutely no tolerance for the Christmas tree, which turned out to be totally destroyed by Mischief’s misadventures. And neither Em nor I can bear to think about how long he may have been trapped in that frightening mess, but we are so thankful that he is alive and seemingly unharmed aside from those minor defensive wounds and obvious signs of PTSD. We’ve since decided that rather than traumatizing the poor kitty further, we’re going to create a new Christmas tree instead of buying a replacement. Already, we’ve had all sorts of grandiose ideas involving large sheets of green paper and cutouts of bells, stars, and various other ornament-like things, as well as an angel piece for the top. We plan to tape it to the wall where our ill-fated Christmas tree once stood, and then place the presents on the floor in front of it. I’ll be sure to take a picture once it’s completed so everyone can see our handy work. But just to hold you over, here's a quick pic of our exhausted little kitty.

Well, that was our excitement for the weekend. As for Bub and his nonsense from my previous post, he seems to have been appeased for now by my continued willingness to jump through his hoops in the hopes that he will not feel the need to drag Em and I through any ridiculous court proceedings. Like I said, I realize that he doesn’t stand a chance, but I still plan to avoid such an ordeal if at all possible, just to spare Em (and I) the stupidity and drama of it all.

Well, so much for that. The people buying the Durango flaked out on us and never even bothered to tell us they changed their minds. They just didn’t show up, no call, no nuthin’. Nice. They were so positive about it too, saying things like “we’re definitely taking it, we’ll call you Friday to pick it up, it’s guaranteed, SOLD!” etc. Who just doesn’t bother to call? Oh well, back to the drawing board. Next order of business? Reduce the price and get that sucka sold, pronto!

Well, Bub informed me tonight that he’d do whatever it takes to protect Em from my irresponsible, stupid choices, including fighting me for custody, if he can’t trust that I’ll raise her properly and keep her out of harm’s way.

That’s right, I’ve done it again. Yet another violation of the laws of Bubba, and apparently, this one’s a doozy. Sheree’s mom asked me if I could keep Sheree overnight this coming weekend because they have a Christmas party to attend and they don’t want to leave Sheree and her older brother alone because they’ve caught the two being sexually inappropriate with each other. (This little tidbit, she drops on me like it was nothing, right in the middle of Walmart) I told her I’d have to get back to her, not knowing yet what plans Bub might want to make with Em for this weekend. So I asked him about it and of course he wants her to leave her weekend free for him because he feels like she never wants to do anything with him anymore unless he has something fun planned. (heh, if he only knew how true that was) I told him that I needed to know by Wednesday in order to let Sheree’s mom (Renee) know in time. So I called him today to see what he wanted me to do about it and I mentioned what Renee had told me about Sheree and her brother. And he proceeds to FLIP THE FUCK OUT. Why? Dear lord, where do I even begin? What it boils down to is that I don’t consider (and share with him) every single detail (pertinent or otherwise) about every single little fucking thing that may or may not affect Em or him in some way. He doesn’t trust me as a parent, he doesn’t trust my decision making abilities, he doesn’t trust my instinct and logic, he doesn’t trust a word that comes out of my mouth, he doesn’t trust me, period. And he refuses to sit idly by and allow me to raise Em in a manner that he does not approve of or agree with. He doesn’t think I give enough consideration to how my choices/actions/words affect her, and basically thinks that I am an incompetent parent. Well, what else is new? K, will someone stop the ride now please? I want the fuck off.

All I can say is thank god for my happy pills, I was able to stay (mostly) calm and think rationally about the implications of his words. I believe that he honestly feels THIS strongly about everything he’s saying and feeling, and if it comes down to it, he’ll do what he feels he must to protect his daughter, no matter what. I get that, BTDT. But honestly, what the hell is he really gonna do? Fight me for custody? What a joke. Go ahead and try it buddy, just see what happens. Idiot. Of course, he made sure to say that he doesn’t want to go that route though. Well of course not, he just wants me to know that he’s willing to if that’s what it takes to ensure my compliance with the LAWS OF BUBBA. I wonder if my lack of appropriately hysterical reaction to his threat gave him pause? Nahhhh, he probably figures that it’s just another prime example of my lack of concern over Em’s emotional well being since I’m such an incompetent mother and all. Sheesh.