Boy Mom

Yep, I’m a boy mom.  Plain and simple.  I was meant to be a boy mom.I remember when I was pregnant — I surely would have a girl?  Nope….two ginger wild boys is what I got.And?  It’s what was supposed to be.  Meant to be, really.FootballDirtLoudnessLaughterJokesSillinessCarsTrucksEnginesGunsMessesMiningFunkGasSmellyBoys.I can discuss engines with the best of them.I can spot the blitz.  Cheer an amazing fade thrown perfectly into the end zone....more

Boy Mom

Yep, I’m a boy mom.  Plain and simple.  I was meant to be a boy mom.I remember when I was pregnant — I surely would have a girl?  Nope….two ginger wild boys is what I got.And?  It’s what was supposed to be.  Meant to be, really.FootballDirtLoudnessLaughterJokesSillinessCarsTrucksEnginesGunsMessesMiningFunkGasSmellyBoys.I can discuss engines with the best of them.I can spot the blitz.  Cheer an amazing fade thrown perfectly into the end zone....more

I Wish

Not much of a wisher.  Or a dreamer.Much more of a realist.  The “no-shitter” sort, you know?  Straight forward.Wishes?  Crap.But lately?  I ‘might’ have a glimmer of a wish.  A tiny sparkle of a wish.  A little sliver, really.My wish?...more

I cried on my wedding day. And not why you think.

In the middle of a divorce.  Nasty.  Ugly.  Foul.  Divorce.I've been reflecting I guess.  Trying to figure it out.  Trying to review these 16 years of marriage.   Carving out a new life.And I remembered:  I cried on my wedding day.I bawled.  Seriously.  BAWLED.  I don't think he even knows why.  Hell, I'm not even sure he remembers, now that I think about it.I cried.  Hard.  Not because I was happy.  Not because I was sad.  Not because I was nervous....more

When does it end?

I filed for divorced in February.  Long Story.Separated in March.  Longer Story.Worked out custody in mediation.  Stalemate on financials and such.  Longer Story Still.So?  Now?Court date is in March.  2015.MARCHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 2015.Two adults can’t sit down and AGREE on things that should be easy to work out.There’s no ‘easy’.There’s no ‘fair’.There’s no ‘negotiating’.There’s no ‘equal’.It’s a damn divorce.  And a nasty one at that. You might think “Hey, he would want this DONE ASAP?”...more
HollyPettit HOLY SMACK!  3 years makes my guts hurt!  I sure hope you are in a great place now! ...more

The Guilt

I have Mom Guilt.  There, I said it.  Well, I wrote it.In the middle of this separation, I have even more Mom Guilt.  It's suffocating at times.  Daunting.  Painful.  Gives me a couple of tears, alone, in the bathroom.He does the fun stuff.  He doesn't force the homework.  He let's them do whatever.  That's not to be mean -- it's actually just, him.Me? I get to:...more

Goals

I was asked "What are your goals?"To get divorced."No, a GOAL."Um, that 'is' a goal?Apparently, it isn't.  And apparently, since it's all I think about, I have NO goals.How about THAT?Yep, I didn't see it either.The only immediate goal I have is to get to trial in March.  That's the one thing I have as a wish.  A focus.  A need.  A want.But alas, not a goal.  So I'm informed.So?  I stared blankly.  I got NOTHING.  ...more

Chapters

I went to my 25th high school reunion this weekend.  So many laughs.  And hugs.  And fun.Driving home, I thought about Chapters.  Life is a series of Chapters:Growing up in Clarksville.Moving to Bowling Green.High School.College.Before Marriage.After Marriage.Before Kids.Raising Kids.Divorce.First Job.Worst Job.When it becomes a Career.Loss.Happiness.Sadness.Emergencies.Amazing trips.Horrible times.Old Friends.New Friends.Always Friends....more

No, We Don't Carve Pumpkins

I have two boys -- almost 11 and 8.  Regular wild boys.But you know what?  We don't carve pumpkins.Now, I hear your outrage -- "WHAT?!?!?  EVERYONE CARVES THEIR PUMPKINS!"Nope.  Not us.We tried to carve them when my oldest was little.  The outcome?  Wretching.  Gagging.  Running away.  Completely grossed out.  He even had "Carve a Pumpkin Day" at school.  Nope -- he was 'disgusted' and asked to sit AWAY from the STENCH....more

ER Visit...and After

Ryan dropped a container of dog food on his toe.  He was helping me by bringing it in from the garage.  Shockingly?  He says he’s NEVER doing again.  Well, of course.He dropped it right on the base of the left toe.  And BAWLED.  He doesn’t scream and cry anymore — but this time?  Screaming.  Bawling.  In pain.  I could tell the poor kid was sure his toe would be amputated.  At nearly 11 years old, you are SURE you are losing this toe from bringing in dog food for your mother. You JUST know it!...more