I Checked Out, Y’all

Okay, so.  I haven’t been around in a while and I kind of feel like I owe you guys an explanation for that.


This year has been pretty crap-tastic so far what with my MIL’s cancer and my knee surgery.  There have been moments of pure awesome that I have thoroughly enjoyed thrown in there too but crap-tastic ruled there for a little bit.


This is a blog about my life and things that happen to me that I choose to share.  I felt like at the beginning of the year ALL I was blogging about was my MIL’s cancer. This AIN’T my MIL’s Cancer Blog. She is more than welcome to blog/write about her cancer if she so chooses but I didn’t want to turn my blog into that.  Also, her cancer brought some underlying problems with TWH’s fambly to the forefront and I was very angry for a while.  I didn’t write about my anger here because A) These were not MY issues to share and B) There are some folks in TWH’s fambly that I adore and I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings with my angry rantings. So I stepped away.  I didn’t put that here.


I hurt my knee in Zumba class & had to have that shit surgically repaired.  Because I’m either extra-awesome in the Klutz Department or I’m too spastic to be believed I managed to tear my ACL & Meniscus OFF which resulted in surgery.  Again, I was  little pissed off and full of self pity.  I talked about it on here but again, I didn’t write about it extensively because A) How much shit can I say about my bum knee. Really??  and B) I didn’t want to be one of those people who whine incessantly about my life to whomever will listen.  I deal with those folks on the daily at work and I never have jack-shit to say to them. Not because I lack sympathy but because I have NO IDEA what to say.  Honestly. I detest cliches and am never able to come up with something that sounds sympathetic but DOESN’T sound trite or contrived. So I stepped away. I didn’t put that here either.


There ARE some awesome things that have happened over the last few months. In March, I attended the SPQ weekend in Jackson, MS where I got my neck hugged by and got to hug the necks of so many people who are dear to me.   I got to see Miss A march in the Cherry Blossom Parade in Washington, DC in April.  We also got to spend a LOT of time together during my recovery. Time that we generally spent acting goofy and laughing at our own awful jokes while TB & TWH cringed.  I got to watch TB make me breakfast & see what a wonderful, caring young man he has become.  I got absolutely spoiled by TWH.  My cousin Ainsley sent me the GREATEST SOCK MONKEY SOCKS EVER. Not to mention upcoming trips I have planned with friends and Fambly.  I have high hopes for the remaining months of this year. I hope that they will be filled with more laughter, love and new wonderful memories.


THOSE are things I will tell you about.  I’m gonna try to come back from the void. To write more. To share more.  Hopefully, to make you laugh more.


I’ve been away for far too long.


Communication Breakdown

WARNING: I am fully aware that this post will step on some toes and maybe cause some people to get their noses out of joint. I’m writing it anyway because this is where I get all the stuff out of my head. If you read this anyway, then it’s on YOU how YOU choose to react.




Okay, so. I told you guys a couple of weeks ago that we’ve gotten dragged into Cancer Town. Looks like we’ll be staying about 6 months or so, so we won’t be settling in.

Here’s the thing. We have a serious failure to communicate. TWH & I live 5 hours away from my In-Laws. We’re the ONLY ones on his Dad’s side of the family that live any more than 30-45 minutes away. THIS, my friends, is the problem.

We aren’t getting any serious information. We’re getting 2-3 line text messages on most days and maybe a paragraph if whoever is sending the information feels it’s necessary. It’s absolutely maddening. TWH relays the information to me and I immediately have loads more questions THAT I CAN’T GET ANSWERS TO BECAUSE NO ONE IS GIVING US ANYTHING TO WORK WITH.

It causes me to have long, incoherent, muttered rants where I try to use every swear word I know at least once.

It also makes me frustrated for TWH who has resigned himself to this. Who feels as frustrated as I am but doesn’t think speaking up will change anything. Because “That’s just how things are”.

I’m sorry. That. Isn’t. Good. Enough. Not now. Not this time. Not for this.

We’re going to have to work on fixing the communication breakdown. From both sides. Because the status quo just isn’t going to be enough.


Ch ch ch Changes

Okay, so.  T hired a new guy to work in the shop.  I don’t know that I’m entirely thrilled.  I KNOW that I should give the guy a chance.  I just don’t know that I wanna.  My first impression of him was that he’s kind of a kiss-ass with a sob story. I have zero patience for either.  (Yes, I realize I do my share of bitching, but I am NOT a whiner)  Also, I like MY space and after nearly 14 years, I consider the entire shop to be MY space.  I’d piss all over stuff if I knew it would effectively mark my territory.

I’m effectively unsettled.  I am unsure of how this will change the shop dynamic. The shop dynamic being me acting like a pseudo-bratty-know-it-all-lovable-scamp-with-a-mouth-like-a-trucker and T sometimes playing along, sometimes scolding me, and sometimes just staring in slack-jawed wonderment at my overflowing awesome.  You see where the new guy’s gonna fit in??  Me neither.

TWH suggested I walk up to him, punch him, and tell him “Now you know!!” and walk off, prison style.  I may just unleash my inner Bon Qui Qui.  We’ll hafta wait and see.

If I come back tomorrow and tell you all I’m unemployed, you’ll know it ended badly for EVERYBODY.

P.S.  Speaking of coming back tomorrow, go check out my guest post on The Family Pants.  Mama Pants is doing a guest posting series called Fancy Friday.  We’re getting our Fancy back & we’re sharing how we’re doing it!!  Stop by and tell her what makes you feel Fancy!!


The Darkness

Okay, so.  This is a story I thought would be a MUCH longer time coming. As in maybe NEVER.  Recent events, however, have prompted me to write this and I don’t know that I’m really ready.  I may never be ready. My stomach is in knots and I think I’m gonna cry. Here goes nothin’.

A maniac walked into a movie theater & shot 47 people. Twelve of whom died.
This has sparked quite a lot of commentary in the social media.  The Twitterverse, Facebook, and Blog-world have been abuzz with shock, condolences, theories & opinions.
This is in response to one of the Blogs I saw in my FB news feed  last night. I can’t find the damned thing today & I’m sick of looking so please don’t ask me who.
 This particular Blogger blamed the parents of the Aurora, CO shooter for his murderous rampage.

I disagree with this on SO many levels and for SO many reasons.

I have a 19 year old daughter. Her name is Chelsea. This is the first and ONLY time you will ever hear about her. EVER.  I won’t be answering any questions. I won’t reply to comments. this is hard enough with out having to re-hash the gory details multiple times. Quite frankly, it hurts too damned much.

Chelsea is a diagnosed Sociopath.  Ted Bundy (the serial killer) was a Sociopath.
Chelsea is also a drug addict & a runaway.
Chelsea is my Darkness.

There were signs that something was “Off”.  So many, many signs.
She was manipulative.
She was abusive.
She was unusually moody.

When she was a toddler, I rationalized these things away.
“Oh. She’s just jealous of her baby sister.”
“Oh. She’s just playing sides to get her way.”
and the Perennial Favorite of Parents Everywhere
“Oh. It’s just a phase.”
Never underestimate a parents power for denial and rationalization. It’s powerful Ju-Ju people.

We took her to her first therapist when she was 4.  She saw 4 subsequent therapists.
None of them had any answers. Except the last one. He diagnosed her with “Borderline Personality Disorder” and told us that when she was re-evaluated at 18 he’d diagnose her as a Sociopath.
That was the scariest thing I’d ever heard.

Here’s an overview of Sosiopathic behavior. I can put tic marks next to just about everything on the list. She was a habitual runaway. She hurt herself & others. She never felt remorse. She was sexually promiscuous & exhibited criminal behavior. By the time everything was said & done, she had a file that had nearly 30 pages of runaway & criminal charges.  Our house was a psychological battlefield and her Dad & I were losing.  We were terrified.

This is what I brought into the world. The pain of that haunts me every day. I DO NOT talk about it.

For someone to say they blame the parents of the CO shooter hurts and enrages me to no end. We did  everything, EVERYTHING to try and help our daughter.The child lost to the Dark. The child who embraced the Dark so fully. Who seemed to revel in it. That it was terrifying to behold.
We tried medication. Stays in THREE different mental health facilities. Group homes. Rehab. She was kicked out of them all..We exhausted every avenue open to us as well as ourselves and our financial resources. We snooped, pried, questioned, double checked, gave space, took away everything, gave everything. Anything we could think of to try and make this child happy and whole again. All to no avail. Her Darkness had consumed her. Swallowed her up whole. There was absolutely no room for us, our worries, our attempts to help. There was only the next thrill. The next high. The next person to screw. The next…whatever.  We’d lost. We didn’t give up, but we’d lost all the same.

One weekend, I faced the Darkness alone.  TWH & TB were away for the weekend at a Scout Camp-out. I’d gone and collected Chelsea that Thursday morning from the Sheriff’s Department after she’d been picked up after her latest disappearing act.  She’d been back home for a little over 24 hours.  I was in the kitchen when she came out of her room and asked to go to a friends house for the evening. like it was the most natural thing in the world. When I told her “No” she flew into a rage the likes of which we’d never seen.  She attacked me.  She flew at me screaming like a banshee and began punching me anywhere she could land a blow.  I tried to hold her off. I would not defend myself. I would not strike this child because I was afraid. I was afraid all the anger & frustration I’d felt at her behavior would coma out and I’d HURT her. I held her at arms length as best I could until she bit me. She bit me the way a caged animal bites. She bit me with all the hatred she could muster. She bit until she drew blood. I let go.  I let go & she ran off into the rainy March night.

She was gone for five days. We knew she’d been found when we got a call from Child Services telling us they were filing charges against us for abuse because Chelsea had shown up in their offices with two black eyes. She said I did it.  She’d finally come up with a way to get out of our house and punish us for our “Transgressions” against her.  Abuse charges.

What followed were months of  “Supervised” visits with her & her “Foster” mother, interrogations by detectives, & endless court dates. She managed to keep herself in check for roughly a month before her pattern resumed with her “new” family.  She ran away after she attacked her foster “sister”.  She was found and placed in a group home. (Her second at this point).  She attacked another girl there, was charged with assault, and ran away a week later.

She was 16 years old.
We haven’t seen her since.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that some people do truly come into this world “Broken”.  Some vital piece of their very Soul seems to be missing.  I have no better way to say it.  There is nothing anyone can/could say or do to fix that.

Don’t blame the parents of this madman.  Blame the madman.  He made the choice to commit the atrocious crime he did.  HIS choices. HIS atrocity.  HIS Darkness.

His parents may have done all they could and lost the battle anyway.

We did.

And we have to live with that.



Okay, so. Every now and again, I take a look at all those statistics that come up when I pull up my Blogger homepage. Here are the keywords people used to find my blog.

prim & improper
down with opc
prim and improper
prim and improper pics
sarcasm regarding raising children (I’m guessing finding my blog was a HUGE disappointment here)
And last but not least:
There are so many ways I could go with this one I don’t even know where to start.


On My Way Back

Okay, so. Monday I kinda had a breakdown. It was awful and tear stained and snotty and full of paralyzing agony, self pity, and self doubt.
I spewed it out all over my blog. I tried just writing it in my journal but it didn’t seem enough. I started this blog last July as a lark but what began as a lark has become an outlet. A lifeline of sorts.
I put my humor and my pain here. I considered putting just the humor but that didn’t seem genuine. No one is happy all the damn time. So I write it all. The good, the bad, and the ultimate fails that are my life.
I realized today that I’m on my way back. I realized it in traffic. I was calling some girl who was too busy putting on her makeup to actually drive a “Stupid Twat” and yelling how that was “An AT HOME job” when I realized that I actually cared enough to bitch. For the first time in days I cared enough about what was going on around me to form an opinion and voice it. The bone crushing apathy is lifting. It’s not gone but it’s packing up and getting ready to leave for awhile.
So many of you commented Monday. So many of you lifted me up. I am so grateful for that.
I’ll be back to full on snark soon. Promise.


Memories!! Yay!!

Okay, so. I just read a guest post over at Yeah. Good Times. that reminded me of my Grandmother’s funeral.
Part of my snark comes from my less than stellar childhood. My Dad was basically a selfish dick and my Mom did what she could but she had her own baggage to carry so we foundered along as best we could but the cracks were HUGE.
Anyways, about 7 years ago, my MeeMaw passed away. (My people are from East Texas. MeeMaws are real, not just a product of Chuck Lorre’s Imagination.) TWH & I loaded up the kids and drove to Texas for the funeral. I think it was Texas. I’m the worst passenger EV-ER.
We were standing around at the pre-funeral, socially awkward, thingie where I was completely overwhelmed by seeing family I hadn’t seen in close to 20 years when my wayward father comes up to us with a tall blonde woman in tow. He had left my stepmother about a year or so before (after 17 years) and moved off to Ohio or somedamnwhere.  We make our niceties and introductions and then it happened…
Tall blonde woman looks at TB and exclaims “Oh my Gosh!! Look how big you’ve gotten!! I remember seeing pictures of you when you were BORN!!”  Did I mention TB was SIX?? What. The. Motherfucking. Hell?!?! I just stood there gaping and trying to do the simple math. The penny dropped for TWH far sooner than it did for me. This wonderful man put his hand in the small of my back, guided me away, and said to That Man and his Tramp, “We have to go over here, now” while giving That Man a Death Glare.  The rest of the funeral was a blur.  I remember standing in a corner with TWH in front of me telling me to calm down as I gasped for air like I’d been sucker punched. I remember making small talk with relatives I adored and had missed terribly. I remember weeping for both the loss of my MeeMaw and my own hurt and confusion during the service. I remember the graveside service was hot & sunny. I remember practically running for the car after it was all over in an attempt to get away from That Man. I had no words. I had too many words. Most of them profane. I couldn’t talk to him.
I could, however, talk to my Mom. I called her sputtering and babbling. She told me something that didn’t really come as a surprise. “Honey, she’s been around your whole life. She’s not new. She’s just new to you.”
Oh. Uuuuuhhhhh… Well HELL!!
I tell this story, aloud, to people sometimes. I tell it with humor. Sort of a “You know you’re at a Redneck Funeral when…” kind of thing. I can laugh at it now. I could laugh at it just a few weeks after it happened.
Maybe that’s my superpower. Being able to laugh at things. Maybe I’m just more in need of therapy than I think.
Who the fuck knows??
However, after reading Elder Daughter’s post. I know things could have been so much worse.


I Gots Me ANOTHER Award!!

Okay, so. Jo over at The Bright Yellow Balloon up and gave me another award. Now I’ll have TWO pins to make up & wear around to attest to my quasi-awesomeness.  You think I’m kidding. I’m totally not. Imma pin them to my Juanita the Weasel apron for the SPQ Big Hat Luncheon later this month. Look for them in the pictures. They’ll be on either side of Juanita.

Anyways….   This is the Award Darlin’ Jo gave me:

It originated with Ach du Lieber and it’s specifically awarded to people who have under 200 followers.  200….. I can’t even imagine…
Of course, every Award has RULES (except the one Jo’s gonna make. It’s gonna be all anti-rules) so here goes:

1: Link back to the Blogger who gave the Award to you.  Check!!
2: Give this Award to five other Bloggers.
3: Post this on your Blog & follow the rules.

That’s it!!  Those are ALL the rules!! Woo Hoo!!

First, Edith MyRant.  She is a single Mom, a Derby Girl (which is cool as hell & intimidating all at once) and a fellow Mommy Blogger. What else could you want??

Second My Suitcase Full of Tricks. Ali is a sassy, funny, skinny(but I can totally forgive her for it) Mom who puts herself out there. Amazingly, she does it without swearing. I KNOW!!

Third The Jamie/Jill Big Ass Cooking Project  This girl seems to be cooking up EVERY recipe from The Sweet Potato Queens Big Ass Cookbook (And Financial Planner). How can you go wrong??  Really??

Fourth Oblong Agenda My friend Julie turned me on to her. Her tagline is “A Journal of My Life Because I Can’t Remember Shit”. How can you NOT read that blog??

Fifth MamaNeeds1 RefillPlease She’s on the same teenage daughter funcoaster. She has a sister who’s (apparently) the biggest PITA to ever live. She’s a wine lover & a photographer. She has more patience than I could EVER muster.

I’ve gotta say, I don’t follow a TON of Blogs. I have no idea what’ll happen if I get any more Awards. I’m fast running out of people to pass them on to.  I’m sure I’ll think of something.

Thanks again for the love Jo.  I’ve said this before. You ROCK!!


I Got My FIRST Award!!

Okay, so.  I gots me an AWARD!!  Yep!! To quote Sally Field “You like me!!  You really LIKE me!!”

Anyway gave me THIS award:

Apparently,  there are RULES with this award.

1. Link back to the person who awarded you this Award.  Done.
2. Follow the blog of the person who gave you this Award. Done.
3. Proudly display this Award on your Blog. Done. (If you can see it. I’m a techno-goob.)
4. List 5 of your Favorite Things (See below)
5. Pass this Award on to 5 fellow Bloggers. (See below some more)

My Favorite Things:

1. My Fambly. They are loveable, funny, and sometimes frustrating, but they are mine and I adore them.
2. My Dawgs. They have covered my ENTIRE LIFE in fur and they bark at nothing a lot but they’re my fur babies.
3. Peanut butter & jelly sammiches.  They’re the perfect food. Enough said.
4. Cookies.  Nothing makes a crappy day better than just-out-of-the-oven cookies. They’re good for the soul.
5. Shoes. Converse sneakers specifically. I LURVE me some Converse!!

My Fellow Bloggers:

1: Jent over at From My Front Porch.  She’s a Mom & Farmwife who is completely honest about the state of her house and her idea of a “Vacation”.
2: Jo over at The Bright Yellow Balloon.  She’s a Mom who talks about her life with candor. I like that.
3: The Crooked Dog Blog.  This Mama took in Little Johnny. A Pittie who had a broken back, two broken back legs, and an unbroken spirit. I love reading about his progress and seeing his life as he grows.
4: Denise over at Adventures of a Jayhawk Mommy. She’s a new Mommy with one of the cutest little girls I’ve ever seen!!
5: Dani over at Facebooking From the Edge. She may well give me a verbal Punch in the Throat for calling her blog “Cute” but I’ll be damned if her Blogging about her spastic-ness isn’t funny as hell!!
6: I can’t help myself here. Kelly over at Excitement on the Side. She’s got a new hubby, a new baby, the most level headed 7 year old on the planet and  is honest about her life with all three.

I am totally stalking these women. If you’re not, you should,


I’m Playing “Meet Me On Monday”

Okay, so. Another blog I follow,, plays a game of sorts, called Meet Me On Monday.  I have decided to play.  So here goes:


1.Wrapping paper or gift bags?
I use both, depending on the gift & level of laziness

2.Real or artificial tree?
Artificial. The Boy has asthma & I can’t remember the ONE type of real tree that WON’T try to kill him.

3.When do you put your tree up?
Thanksgiving weekend. It takes the whole long weekend to do the house.

4.When do you take your tree down?
New Year’s Day

5.Do you like eggnog?
Yes. Love the stuff!!

6.Do you have a nativity scene?
Sadly, no. I wish I did. Just haven’t found one I liked.

7.Favorite Christmas Movie?
A Christmas Story.  Ralphie rocks!!

8.Favorite Christmas cookie?
My Grandmother made these fruitcake cookies I ADORED every year that I couldn’t get enough of. She called them “Lizzies”.

9.Where will you eat Christmas dinner?
This year, the In-Laws. Next year, HOME.

10.Angel, bow or star on top of your tree?
Angel. It’s been that way my whole life.

11.Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
What passes for “Christmas” music.  Some of it makes my ears bleed.

12.Do you like Fruitcake?
Yes. I know, I’m weird
13.What are you most excited about the holidays?
Seeing my family open their gifts.

14.Do you open presents Christmas Eve or Christmas Morning?
We usually travel so either several days before or several days after. Next year, it will be ONE on Christmas Eve & the rest on Christmas Morning.

15.Will you still be wrapping presents on Christmas Eve?
I’m kinda OCD about that stuff so no. I usually have it done at least a week early.