The Kids Now Blog, Therefore, I Blog

Lest ye be warned, internet goers. My children now have blogs.

Ye have been warned...

They aren't public (yet- we'll see how this goes), and they were created for homeschooling purposes, but nonetheless, they still have blogs.

I've been reading my ass off lately- homeschooling books, unschooling books, curriculum standards. My poor Sarah Addison Allen novel has been quite lonely, sitting untouched on my bedside table while I reach for the non-fiction books beside her. But at the moment, it's a necessary evil.

I'll run y'all through a quick timeline of recent events, which can somewhat explain why I've been MIA lately.

• Beginning of January- Hubby left for school for 6 weeks and the kids started homeschooling with k12.com.
• 2 weeks later- Kids and I were highly frustrated with the rigors of k12.com, and went to our first local homeschooling group, where I learned about unschooling. Our lives changed forever.
• Beginning of February- Withdrew the kids from k12.com and let them start the unschooling thing. 
• Middle of February- Hubby came home, having graduated with the top GPA in his class (this, from the man who slept through high school- we were shocked and thrilled beyond belief). When his structured-military-trained brain saw unschooling in action, his headache began. He

Hell Week Post #1: We Aren't Trying to Ruin Our Kids' Lives, I Swear

I am officially labeling this week as "Hell Week," and it's only Thursday. It's been so amazingly, sweet-ass awesome (can you sense my sarcasm?), that it's going to warrant 3 posts from me.

My mantra right now...

Yes, 3 posts. I can't cram all of this week into one post. It would look a lot like a busted can of biscuits if I tried, and I don't like to make my readers' heads explode.

I will, however, give y'all a teaser of what my week has entailed, and then we'll just jump right into the first part of my week.

This week, Hell Week, started off with Hubby and I making one of the largest decisions we could possibly make for our kids- The Girl is still barely speaking to us because of it. Mid-week, we crushed The Ginger's innocence forever, and just after that, I contracted what can only be a precursor to the Zombie Virus. That's my Hell Week thus far, and please knock on some wood for me that the remainder of the week does NOT warrant a fourth post in this series.

So now that you have an overview of this week for me, let's just head right into one of the biggest decisions I've ever made as a parent, shall we?

Monday morning, as the kids were getting ready for school, The Ginger opened up his homework folder (keep in mind that last week was Thanksgiving, so the kids have been out of school since the Wednesday before this), and threw his head back. Tears started filling his eyes.

The Ginger: Mom, can I PLEASE stay home from school today?
Me: Nope. But why do you ask?
The Ginger: Because my state report is due today and I forgot all about it. I didn't work on it at all this weekend.
Me: Nope, sorry. You didn't do your homework, so you need to fully understand the consequences to

Change is Upon Us (Working Title: My Chocolate Boob Life)

I've spent a couple of weeks contemplating whether or not I should write this post. No, it's not about a controversial parenting topic, or my opinion on a headline-making subject.

It's simply about me, and sometimes that's scary, putting yourself out there to the world.

Pic Courtesy

I'm going through a change right now (no, not the change; I'm only 33... though I wouldn't mind not being a raging bitch having a period once a month), and it took a conversation with a friend of mine yesterday to make me realize that it was time for this post, time to word-vomit it all out and see what happened.

So let's just jump right in, feet first. I'm really good at doing that in life...

5 years ago, you all would not have recognized me. 99% of you would not have liked me. If I had a blog back then, I can probably guarantee that any readers I had were just there for the drama. I was an extremely negative person, drama-filled, addicted to causing strife in people's lives who had wronged me.

Far cry from the meditating, positive, tree-hugging, respectfully opinionated and eloquently-spoken person I am today, huh? My friend told me she couldn't picture me that way. I told her she didn't want to.

Hell, I hated myself back then. But you fall into these destructive patterns, and it's like a huge, negative snowball rolling after you, that you have to feed with fire and rage to stay 1 step ahead of it or else it will crush you. I chose to stay ahead of the snowball by trying to make everyone around me just as miserable as I was.

Then I woke up one morning and I had no idea who I was. I had no idea who my kids were, and I saw my life for the crumbling heap that it was. I didn't want to be that person anymore; not for my sanity, not for my kids, not for my future.

So I ran away. Most people would say that's not a healthy option, that you need to stay and face your demons. Not for me. For me, running away allowed me to clear my head from the negativity in my

Tatted Mom's 2013 New Year's Resolutions

It's that time. Time to sit back and reflect on the last year and figure out what we want to do the same and what we want to do differently for the next year. Personally, 2012 was a great year for me. I got back into tattooing, moved 2000 miles so Hubby and I could finally be the couple and family we knew we could be, was on HuffPost Live, entertained a blog audience that grows bigger every single day, quit smoking, started finding my spiritual side again, got my first negative comment on a blog post and started writing my book. Overall, I'm happy as hell with how 2012 went, and am motivated to make 2013 even better.

Which means now I release my ginormous resolution list to everyone out there who wants to read it, so I am held accountable. Yes, I make a list this big every year. Why? Is it because I enjoy failure or running myself ragged to keep up with every goal I've set for myself?

Nope. It's because only 8% of all people who make resolutions actually succeed at them. If I make 1 resolution, chances are (according to statistics), I won't succeed at it. If I make 20 though, I'll succeed at a few of them. That, and, I'm an overachiever. Seriously. That side of me is bad. Up there with my competitive side. And my 'I like a challenge' side. So, with the 3 of those combined, I always end up with a million goals for the new year.

So, without further ado, here we go. In no particular order...

Tatted Mom's 2013 New Year's Resolutions

~Blog

• I'm going to entertain my readers more. I've been honing my ninja skills when it comes to blogging for a while now, performing experiments on different posting styles and frequencies, and am slowly figuring out what my readers want and what I want. Y'all are going to get my humor, truthfulness when it comes to motherhood and my craziness, but I'll be doing more of it. I also want to throw in helpful recipes, household tips and practices and maybe even some pinterest-esque home decor projects or crafts. I'll be putting all of me into Inklings- every aspect of who I am, and let me tell you, I'm a hell of a lot of things. Be prepared for controlled randomness. Yep, that's me.
• Social media goddess. I'm great with facebook. I post pictures, status updates, links to funny pictures and articles. Facebook is my bitch. But twitter, pinterest and now Google + end up falling to the wayside. I want to utilize all of my social media outlets in 2013 to not only give my readers many ways to enjoy my zaniness, but to ensure that I'm making the most of how I share myself with the world. 
• Get my informational articles out there. I already have a column over at Parent Society, and have had articles features on Mamapedia and BlogHer, but I'm ready to expand. Get my butt to writing more, posting what I know my readers would like on my blog, and submitting the less-personality driven articles to various parenting and writing websites. I've always had a goal to have a paid writing gig for either Babble, Huffington Post Parents or Nick Mom, and all of those goals remain. Fingers crossed, 2013 is my year for that. 

~Finish my book & get it published. I'm not talking e-published (though that will be after the regular

The Welcome Mat is Dead

This move has definitely been a strange one.

I posed a question to Inklings' facebook fans yesterday to get some opinions. I got back some really great answers, but to be honest, they weren't what I expected. Then I realized that I didn't quite explain it right. So that just makes a perfect blog post.

The scenario I posted yesterday involved how The Ginger had made friends with the little boy next door and wanted him to come inside to play, but the little boy's mother said he couldn't come inside until she had met me. So The Ginger kept coming inside and asking me to go out there and meet her, and I was dragging my feet about it because in my opinion, she should have been coming over to meet me, not me going over there.

Petty, I know, but this post will clear up what was going on in my head.

Most of the replies that came through were of the mindset that I needed to take one for the team and go over to her house because it was for my little boy.

Y'all know I love you, Inklingers, but that was honestly the opposite of what I thought the majority would say. I seriously thought most people would be standing beside me, arms crossed, saying, 'She needs to get over here and meet me.' Even Hubby had my side, but was still pushing me out the door for The Ginger's sake.

I grew up in the South. I'm not sure if it's Southern Hospitality or the fact that most southerners are curious as hell and love to gossip, but every move Hubby and I have ever made, our neighbors came and welcomed us to the neighborhood. Our first base in North Carolina over 10 years ago, we were greeted by the next door neighbor with lasagna while we were moving in because she said we shouldn't have to cook our first night in a new house. When we moved on base in South Carolina, people would approach us on the sidewalk,

Countdown to Crapping in Peace

I am T-minus 7 days until I get into a house and out of this effing apartment. A house... with a huge kitchen... and separate bedrooms for the kids... and 2.5 bathrooms instead of 1... and a Tatted Mom room with my books, my art supplies and my writing stuff. Basically, I'm 7 days away from heaven... I think.

If you are a regular Inklings reader, you know that Hubby is military. We made the decision months ago to go ahead and move into base housing. We're starting over as a couple, trying to rebuild our family, so we want as little stress as possible, and for us, that means moving into base housing. We are 1 week away from moving, and we have yet to sign the paperwork on the house. Our orders for moving on base were cut weeks ago, the movers have been scheduled, I'm aching to call the cable company and get cable cancelled and the internet moved, but we are at a standstill right now, which of course is driving me absolutely insane. We haven't signed the paperwork for the house, done the inspection, nothing... hell, we haven't even seen the inside of the house yet. Each day that goes by I am closer to either curling up in the fetal position in the corner with my thumb in my mouth or needing my prescription for my Happy Pills refilled.

Pic courtesy of Yeah She Said It

This is the 5th move for the kids and I in the last 2 years. 3 of those moves were cross country and the 4th move was from South Carolina to Virginia- 400 miles. Needless to say, I'm frigging tired. I haven't seen my possessions in almost 2 years. They've gone from house to boxes to storage to new storage unit. When I start unpacking, it will be like Christmas for me, seeing things I didn't remember that I had.

None of that even matters when compared to the fact that we are (hopefully) a week away from a house. Almost twice the size of this tiny ass apartment, room to move, room to breathe, room to march to the opposite end of and hide in if the kids piss me off. Over the years of moving from houses to apartments, I have come to one large conclusion...

There are so many things you take for granted when you live in a house- things that, when a family of 4 lives in a 900 square foot apartment, immediately become issues:

• Crapping in peace without the entire family, and the neighbors, knowing what you are doing
• Loud sex
• Being able to have 2 people in the kitchen without pissing each other off
• Not immediately smelling that a cat's latest meal didn't quite agree with their stomach, and they had to expel it with the quickness

5 Things Stay-At-Home Moms Do Not Sign On For

About 3 months ago I became a stay-at-home mom again. I've been one before. Heck, I've been everything before- a working mom, a single mom, a single working mom, a stay-at-home mom, a work-at-home mom, a mom who took her kids to work with her; I'm pretty sure I've been in almost every angle of the stay at home mom vs. working mom debate, and even created a new angle or two from which to view it.

Bottom line: I love being a stay-at-home mom. I do "work" during the day while the kids are at school- various things that make money and save us money, but essentially I'm a stay-at-home mom. I love being with my kids, watching them grow and develop and being an integral part of their lives.

There are some things, though, that I did not sign on for as a stay-at-home mom (unfortunately, puke, piss and crap are things we do sign on for when becoming a stay at home mom- the kids' stuff, that is). No stay-at-home mom signs on for these things, but many of them just end up happening anyway. Well, not anymore. I'm here to lay it all out on the line, let people know that even though we are stay-at-home moms, there are things that were not included in this hidden contract that we signed... Don't go trying to add them now!

1. Becoming a Maid. We signed on to become a housekeeper, yes, but not a maid. In my opinion, there's a huge difference. A housekeeper cleans the house, picks up general mess, gets down in the dirty every now and then with scrubbing and cleaning like hell, etc. A maid picks up after every person in the house and does what you tell them to without asking questions. I'm no maid, thank you. Shoes left in the middle of the floor will be vacuumed around until you can get home from work/school to pick them up from  the middle of the floor. I do not throw dirty socks into the laundry unless they are my own. Any clothes that did not make it into the clothes basket before laundry day will not get washed. It's everyone's responsibility in this house to pick up after themselves and make sure what they need done is easily accessible for me. I will cover the main stuff in the house, but do not offer personalized service. Sorry, if you want that, hire a maid or personal assistant.
2. Becoming Martha Stewart. I'll admit now, there are times in my life when I do channel Martha Stewart; I'll bake some amazing cookies or cakes, experiment with dinner and prepare something out of the ordinary, or decide to finally organize a section of the house and clean the hell out of it as well. But do not expect these things on a regular basis. That's not what we stay at home moms do. We

My Vow to Lose Pieces to the Negativity Puzzle

I think I'm about ready to scream.

With this latest Chick-Fil-A social media storm, my head is about to explode. For those that need catching up, Chick-fil-A's President made an anti-gay marriage statement a few days ago. This really shouldn't come as a shock to anyone because Chick-fil-A is a company that still closes on Sundays because it's God's holy day. Put two and two together people.

I'm not here to argue gay marriage vs. straight marriage, or to even comment on the news story at all. That story was yet another piece of a puzzle that I've been slowly putting together lately. My mom's facebook status from last night about the current smear campaign commercials that each presidential candidate has funded right now is another puzzle piece, too. And an old episode of 'Trading Spouses' that I watched last night where a family sat around the dining room table for dinner and just bickered with each other, provided yet another puzzle piece.

What's this puzzle I'm putting together? Why is my head about to explode?

The Negativity Puzzle.

I'm sick of what the world has become. It's full of hatred, bashing other people, and asserting opinions that just breed negativity, hate and contempt.

To run the risk of sounding like a tree hugging hippie... wait, I am a tree hugging hippie... What happened to love? What happened to 'why can't we all just get along'?

And, as a small jab at the Chick-fil-A president and all of those who side with him, what happened to 'love thy neighbor'? It's in the book you all hold so dear.

If the US has come to a state where presidential candidates can't tell America why we should vote for them, but why we shouldn't vote for the competition, why vote period?

Why would a president of a fast food company come forward and give his opinion about gay marriage? What business is gay marriage of his? Was he proposed to by another man? What was the purpose in further

Quick Rantings of a New(ish) Stay at Home Mom

Since starting Inklings, I've been through a roller coaster of a life. When I (first) found myself newly singled, I wrote an update, Quick Rantings of a New Single Mom, to let everyone know I was alive, and, well, not perfect (I lost The Ginger in an airport). Then, when I found myself (again) newly singled after yet another curve ball of life a little while later, I posted, well, Quick Rantings of a New Single Mom... Part 2 (catchy title, huh?), to let everyone know that I was getting back into blogging, and that I was still not perfect (I lost The Ginger in a gas station, that time).

In keeping with tradition, here it is, though not within in the first few days of becoming a stay at home mom again. Guess it's because I didn't lose The Ginger anywhere.

In my first week of being a stay at home mom, I successfully:

1. Spent 24 hours of the first 48 hours here sick as a dog, nausea, vomiting, the whole 9 yards. In the midst of stumbling back from one of my (many) bathroom trips in that 24 hours, I stubbed my pinky toe on the coffee table and broke it. So, that led to me hobbling around on my first day of recovery. The day after that I hit a major bought of vertigo and ended up sleeping for pretty much the entire evening because any time I attempted to stand up, the room spun like I had been drinking vodka all day, and I didn't want to risk breaking another toe. The day after that I woke up with stabbing pains in my abdominal region, which I suffered through in the name of Target and a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino from Starbucks. I'm heading to the doctor on Monday, don't worry, and so far today I've felt fine (fingers crossed, please don't jinx me).
2. Cooked 3 meals. Yep, only 3 meals in a week, and I'm a stay at home mom. Don't judge me, read #1 right there. 
3. Banished my kids to opposite sides of the apartment for about 30 minutes on my day of recovery

Mildewed Legos and Pure Exhaustion

Y'all know I love y'all right? Every person that ventures onto my blog, and especially those that choose to return on a regular basis, I'm thankful for each of you all (though I do have more love for those who stalk me than those who are just googling weird ass crap like 'denture fetish' and end up here).

So, I hope that y'all know I'm not ignoring Inklings, and I haven't abandoned it.

The move is at the end of the week, movers will be here tomorrow, and I'm purely exhausted. In between packing, cleaning, sorting, etc, I manage to jump on my mom groups for a second (it's an addiction I can't stop right now... it's my daily dose of drama that I'm not in, but can sit back and laugh my ass off at it), and pass out for an hour or so nap to recharge my battery.

I'm seriously heading to the doctor when I get to Arizona. I know I'm under stress, but I'm 99% sure I've got hypothyroidism. We'll see in a few weeks.

So, know that I love y'all, that if I do jump online real quick to post some craziness or do an update, it's on the Inklings facebook page. (We have over 400 people over there now- Inklings is growing!!)

It's funny, though. When I get an idea for a blog post, I do manage to pull up my computer, type a few words to get the idea out of my head, hit 'save' and then keep on with whatever I was doing. So, when things calm down, and this move is behind me, I do have some hella good posts planned.

Keep voting daily please, if you don't mind, even if there isn't a blog post. If we fall out of the top 25 because I was moving, I'll be a sad turtle.

I'll leave y'all with a quick few Tatted Mom tidbits to ponder...

Fun Game to Play with School Aged Kids: While they are watching TV or playing video games, stick your finger in their ear and say, 'Hey, there's something in your ear.' When they reply 'What?', yell out, 'My FINGER!!' It's amusing.

Appropriate Answer to Any Question Nowadays: Zombies. 'What does this weird rash look like?' 'Zombie bite'. 'Why is my kid acting weird?' 'Bitten by a zombie.'

What does a bucket of mildewed Legos, bleach, a bathtub, a colander, towels, and New Kids on the Block bed sheets all have in common? An hour of my life on a Monday night that led to my lower back giving out, that's what. But hey, now the Legos that were all funky are now clean and sanitized (and dried out so this doesn't happen again.)

Guess what's happening to me in 3 days? I get laid!!! Maybe I'll quit being such a bitch then, huh? Ha! I now, that's a good joke...



If you enjoy Inklings, please take a second to just click the banner below. Each click = 1 vote, and you can vote once per 24 hours. I do happy dances when people vote!

Reprogramming Myself

There comes a time in every humor blogger's life to get serious.

It doesn't happen much, y'all, and there will still be my sassy ass commentary thrown in here and there, I promise, but this post is quite emotional for me.

Source: Uploaded by user via Annie on Pinterest

I had an epiphany last night (yes, another one. I seem to be full of them lately, but they are helping me make amazing, positive life decisions.) I was on pinterest (don't we all have our epiphanies while on pinterest?), and I came across this pin with pictures of a super skinny, stick figure woman, and a curvy, vivacious woman. This pin (pictured to the right) was on a board entitled 'Healthy & Positive Body Image'... so I clicked on it.

An hour later, I had added a new board, Reprogramming Myself, and was on the verge of crying. I had spent an hour on this woman's board, clicking on articles and reading comments, repinning pictures and sayings that resonated with me, and wondering what in the hell was wrong with me.

A short time ago, I was slowly killing my body. Seriously, that's not an exaggeration. I had gained some weight while Hubby was here, and had convinced myself it needed to go... and quickly. I had started working out at the gym, and was well within a healthy exercise schedule (30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, plus an hour walk at night, 3 days a week), but I had it in my head that this easy workout schedule needed to be paired with a fat-burning, weight loss diet. I started my research and convinced myself that carbs like pasta and bread were horrible demons, as well as all sugar. So, I'd wake up in the morning, have my cup of coffee (now with sugar free creamer), make a protein smoothie with fruit (because while yes, the body can process fruit as a carb, fruit was still good for you, and I knew the dangers of eliminating all carbs from your diet) for breakfast, snacked on nuts and fruit during the day, and lunch and dinner consisted of a salad, protein and some kind of cooked veggies.

A day or two in, I was bloated as hell, which, for someone like me, is problematic. See, I don't... um... pass gas in front of people. So this diet, which was making me full of it, had me in some pain, let me tell you. And my jeans, which already didn't fit because of the weight gain while Hubby was here, now absolutely did not even button.

Wtf, seriously? I'm working out every morning, doing cardio, lifting weights, eating healthy, and my 'fat clothes' don't even fit  anymore? Talk about frustrating.

Moving Requires Lots of Lube... Part 2

I'm a military wife. You'd think by now I'd be used to this ish.

Moving sucks. Really sucks. And no matter how many times I go through this, it doesn't seem to get any easier. I mean hell, the kids and I moved 5 times in one calendar year. 85% of my stuff is still packed in boxes in a storage unit, and this move isn't any easier than any of them before.

Flying = Money

When I made the cross country move over a year ago, my interaction with the moving companies prompted me to write Moving Requires Lots of Lube. This year so far, the moving company situation is being kind to us, though Hubby is handling that part of it. Plus, we haven't gotten too far in that process yet, so there might be a part 3 to this post for all I know, later on.

No, this year, the airlines are having their way with us. (And for the record, I'm glad that the airlines are taking advantage of 'us' this year, and not just 'me'. Moving cross country as a single mom sucked, but having Hubby involved now, even 2000 miles away, means that I'm not alone this time around. The need for lube is being divided between the both of us.)

When the kids and I moved a year and a half ago, 4 one way tickets (we had Z with us) plus insurance and fees ran $800. This year, each one way ticket is $350, meaning we're up to $1050 for 3 people, and that doesn't include insurance or any fees.

No hugs, no kisses, no nothing. The airlines certainly aren't reaching for any lube to make this easier.

Of course I googled why in the hell the tickets have more than doubled in price in just a little over a year.

Big Decision Made... Let the Kegels Begin!

Wish it was that simple.

In all of the hustle and bustle of Hubby coming home, The Ginger's surgery, and just life in general, I realized I have forgotten to update you Inklingers on what Hubby and I finally decided for, well, our future together.

As a quick recap, for those that have just joined us, Hubby lives 2000 miles away (we were separated, then we decided to get our heads out of our asses and make this marriage and family work), we had a tentative plan of him moving here with us, then My Epiphany and How Badly it Sucks happened, and we decided to wait until he came to visit for The Ginger's surgery and kids' spring break to make our major life decision.

The kids and I are moving to Arizona. Yep, I'm quitting my tattoo artist day job (but not my ninja assassin night job- that's needed out west, too), and going back to being a stay at home mom. You know what that means?

All craziness and hell is going to break loose on Inklings. Oh yeah, it's going to be AWESOME! Hella fun stories about me and the PTA, and volunteering in my kids' classrooms, and having to walk 3 flights of stairs to do laundry in Hubby's apartment complex, and my first ever summer with the kids where I haven't worked, and how effing hot it is in Arizona, and how one adjusts to repairing their marriage after 3 years of being separated, and becoming a military wife again. I can't wait!

This is all going down in about 7 weeks... holy shit, right? I have to pack up an apartment, go through storage items, have it all shipped, ship my car, make sure the cats are up to date on their shots and get them fixed, and so much more, in just 7 weeks. All while working for the next 6 weeks and saving all of the money we can to move cross country.

Do you know how much it costs to move cross country? An ass load. Especially when you factor in the cost of lube. What? Lube? Yeah, that's from an old post... Moving Requires Lots of Lube.

Anyway, then, once the day actually comes, I have to fly, solo this time, with 2 kids. I normally take valium

The New Girl in the Neighborhood

There's a new family in our apartment complex; moved in across the street. From what I know of them, there's a daughter who is The Girl's age, a son who is a little younger, and I think another one that's not in school.

The new girl is weird. And, not in the type of weird that my family says 'Hell yeah' to; the kind of weird that even makes us raise an eyebrow.

I know it's cruel as hell to say that about a 10 year old, but it's true. I have no idea what her past is, or what her current life is like, but she's weird. Like, extremely loud and obnoxious, never shuts up, and talks in a voice that sounds like a 54 year old man, kinda weird. And when she bangs on the door to see if my daughter can come out and play, she bangs on the door... like zombies are behind her and she needs inside... now, or like the cops are trying to do a raid. Then, when we fling open the door, she's just planted there, shoulders bent over, and she must think we're deaf or something, because she screams, in a deep voice, 'Can The Girl come out and play?'

My daughter was scared of her at first. No, she's not this huge, glandular problem, of a girl. She's smaller than my daughter (who, keep in mind, is only a few inches shorter than me and shaped like a bean pole), but her personality, and her attitude, is that of the giant at the top of Jack's beanstalk.

But now my daughter has embraced her. Which I'm cool with, as long as sleepovers are done away from this house. I'm not sure if I can take the loud, frumpy, giant-like, 'Excuse me, ma'am, can I have a glass of water' at 10 at night when I'm trying to relax.

It made me think, though, about how tough it is to be the new girl, for your family to move in the middle of the school year, and how much my kids have bounced around in the past few years. That's when it hit me that there are 2 types of new kids:

• The kind that keep to themselves, blend in, and let the locals come to them.
• The kind that try, a little to hard, to fit into their new surroundings.

The Aftermath of Hurricane Hubby

The hubby was able to travel 2000 miles and come home for Christmas- amazing 2 weeks, then he was gone once again. No idea when we'll see him again (not in a deadbeat husband or CIA spy type of thing- he's stationed in Arizona, the kids and I are currently living in Virginia, and until we figure out how to merge the two together, it will be like that indefinitely), but we have plenty of plans in the making. Meanwhile, I'm slowing cleaning up after what I like to call:

Hurricane Hubby
~Category 5 Hurricane
~Hit landfall on December 15th and exited the area on December 29th
~Estimated cleanup date: Can not be determined until further analysis of entire affected area is done


Having hubby here was amazing, don't get me wrong. The kids and I were on cloud nine, as I know he was, too. Laughing, cuddling, talking, playing games together, just enjoying each other's company again after so long. But anyone who has had to deal with having a parent or loved one away for a while, you know everything that happens when that person finally comes home, even if just for a visit. Bedtimes get thrown out the window, the word 'no' is never even uttered, and the sadness that is left when they leave takes some getting over, too. After not even a week of 'clean up', here's where the path of Hurricane Hubby has affected things thus far:

Apartment Love

Ahh, apartment life. Easy access to everything I need in town, an office with maintenance men to call whenever something breaks, a community pool during the summer, a dozen people piled into one apartment building with paper thin walls. Yep, apartment life.... SUCKS!!! My sister, kids and I live on the bottom floor, and because of that, I know the following things about my upstairs neighbors:

1. They wake up precisely at 6:26 in the morning. How do I know this? Because their alarm began going off that early this morning. It's one of those annoying ones that goes 'Beep, beep', pauses, 'Beep beep', pauses... Thanks for the free wake up call and all, but this is NOT the Holiday Inn Express. I'm not due to wake up for another hour.
2. They are HUGE music fans. I mean BIG. They start playing music at 9 in the morning (though it's 7:30 now and I'm hearing something from up there... no, wait... that's cartoons), and don't stop until 11 at night. BIG music fans. In fact, I should check and see if maybe Jay Z is the tenant upstairs, or maybe Eminem himself, because seriously, who blares music THAT loud for THAT long that isn't trying to promote themselves or make money off of it somehow.
3. Around 2:30-3 o'clock in the afternoon they get really active, maybe because the kids get home from school around 3:30-4. I'm thinking there's either a spider on the ceiling they are jumping on the bed to try and kill with a shoe, or maybe it's some spiritual meeting, because every now and then I can hear 'Oh God'. But, whatever it is, it only lasts about 10 minutes... must not be that entertaining.
4. I'm pretty sure they are training for a marathon, because they run from one end of the apartment to the other in the evenings, over and over again.
5. They prefer to do laundry on the weekends, in the evening times. And whatever laundry detergent they use smells amazing. I must ask them sometime...
6. Someone in that apartment takes a shower at the exact same time I do in the mornings. It always freaks me out for a second, because I think, 'Wait, if I take a shower now, my hot water will run out quicker.' Then I have to realize that each apartment has it's own water heater, so... yeah. I usually haven't had my coffee at that point in the morning.
7. Dinner is usually around 6 at night, sometimes a little later, and because they keep their balcony door open, you know, so everyone can hear the music they are obviously promoting, when I'm sitting on my porch I all of a sudden start wondering if my sister has taken it upon herself to start cooking dinner. I get excited, because it smells amazing. Then, I head in to my apartment to find nothing cooking. Son of a.... fooled again.
8. They enjoy action movies at night, you know, stuff with explosions, intense music, fight scenes. Either that, or they like to blow things up in their apartment. I'm gonna go with the TV making all those noises, though, to save myself an anonymous tip to a home security hotline.
9. Every once in a while they invite either the 500 lb beared lady, Bigfoot, or a clown with big shoes, over. Like right now, it sounds like Bigfoot is helping them train for that marathon. Good gracious I hope it's soon, because they need to give it a rest.
10. They don't argue much, in fact, I hardly ever hear them actually speak to themselves. I hear the kids every now and then, but as far as human to human conversation, there's barely any. Oh my gosh, it just hit me... they are robots...

Forgiveness Isn't a Four Letter Word

There comes a time in every humor blogger's life where it's necessary to put aside the humor for a post or two and be serious. That day has come, Inklingers. There's a topic I've been wanting to cover for a little while now, and it's finally become time let the gates down and the seriousness flow.

This post, too, while great for anyone who comes across it, is meant more for women, as ladies, I will be speaking woman-to-woman to you all through it.

A few weeks ago my life fell apart. Everything that I thought I knew about my life went up in flames because of one simple carnal act (not on my part, to clear that up). What I was left with was feelings of hurt, betrayal, confusion and doubt, and with nothing to do, nothing keeping me in that town, I chose to leave it all behind and move back home with my family.

But first I tried to forgive. I tried very hard. Why? Because I loved the man I was with, mistakes happen, and I have one of the biggest hearts known to anyone. It wasn't hard... at first. Then, after a few days, the paranoia set in, the craziness, the severity of the situation settled in the back of my mind, the questions, the doubt... and, well, I lost it. After losing it, my next step is to run... now you know my grieving process....

In a very short amount of time, I processed everything in every way imaginable. I flipped this switch inside me and became the cold hearted bitch- not that I really was one, but that's what I had to show everyone on the outside. Inside I felt dead, like nothing would ever grow there again. I cried... a lot. I drank... a little because, well, my alcohol tolerance has gone way down in the past few months. I got angry and said exactly what was on my mind, no matter how hurtful or what the consequences could be of my words. I gave up. I gave in. I turned my back and walked away. I wondered what I had done wrong, what I could have done differently. That's when it hit me....

Quick Rantings of a New Single Mom... Part 2

Okay, let's start by clearing something up real quick... I'm done! I have moved 4 times in the last year, twice cross-country, now 2 states away from where I was, and I'm done! DONE I SAY!!!

So, now that that's all cleared up, we can get on with today's post. I figured it would be an easy one today, to ease back into blogging on a regular basis (I now have interwebbies at my apartment!!!) To refresh your memory, earlier this year I had a post, Quick Rantings of a New Single Mom, where I jumped online real quick and gave a Tatted Mom style update, to start the ball rolling on my fans trusting that I'll be around again. So, in tradition of that (and seriously, how many times am I gonna go through this?) we have Quick Rantings of a New Single Mom Part 2 (and again, seriously, it's actually pretty effing funny if you pull up this post in one tab and the part 1 in another tab, but keep in mind they are written 7 months apart after another huge life change)...

So, my family and I made it safe and sound back to where it all began for me; I grew up in Virginia, and after messed up marriage and messed up relationship, I came back home to family. I'm currently in between jobs (sounds SO much better than unemployed), with 2 prospects on the horizon, 1 tattooing again and 1 back to work at a photography studio. I have my babies with me, including Zombie Kitty and her 3 babies, no friends this time because, well, all I need right now in my life is family... seriously.

In my first 48 hours as a made again single mom, I successfully:

1. Lost my son at the gas station. Deja vu, right? Yeah, my son has a little bit of a bladder problem, so when he informed me in the middle of our 5 hour drive that he had to go, I pulled over at the first gas station. He took off out of the car and ran inside, straight to the men's room. Well, normally my ex-boyfriend would have gone into the bathroom with him, and not giving a lot of thought to how he wasn't there anymore, I just went and used the women's bathroom. Get done with my business, and wait outside of the men's bathroom. 1 minute... 2 minutes... a group of men come out, I stick my head into the door... no ginger boy. Panic sets in, I run through the gas station, outside to the car to find my son sitting in the back seat playing with the kittens. I cried, hugged him tightly, and explained to him what he did that scared mommy so much, and how he was going to the women's bathroom with me from now on. He doesn't like me being a single mom any more than I do...
2. Channeled Martha Stewart for our first starting over home cooked meal... NOT! How about box mac and cheese and a salad? Yep, that's what I had the motivation for. 
3. Realized a queen sized sleep sofa is not big enough for me and my sister, nor is it conducive to my back problems. The thing is, by the time we get everything set up correctly, I'll be sleeping in a twin bed... how depressing is that? 30 years old and in a twin bed... needless to say, dating is nowhere on my plate in the future...

Things have been much better this time around, but I think that's because I made the right decision to come back to family. They are always there for you, even at 8 o'clock on a Sunday morning to unload your moving truck into a storage unit. I had 2 jobs semi-lined up before I even got here, just have to swing by both places this week and get the ball rolling even more on me working once again. Things seemed to fall into place here, when everything else was falling apart where I was... so I had no choice but to leave. 

It's been a little harder to keep a smile on my face this time around. Everything has happened so fast that I guess I've just refused to really think about how messed up things got. I thought I had it all, and it quickly came tumbling down with one simple act... But everything happens for a reason, and for whatever the reason, I'm meant to be here, in Virginia, my kids and I, and my family. Lovers come and go, friends stab you in the back, and at the end of the day I have myself and my family to rely on. I really am lucky, and have to keep that thought in my head at all times.

So, here's to starting over yet again. Good news is, I have internet, so y'all will have a regular dose of Inklings from now on. I've missed blogging so much. And y'all thought I wouldn't be around again... you can't get rid of me that easily....

SuperMom vs. Tatted Mom

Ahhh, blogging. I have missed you so much. I contemplated whether to just do a huge update blog, that covers the last 5 months I’ve been MIA, or to just do smaller updates that pertain to the blog topic of that day. I opted for B, honestly, to keep you all around, lol. I figure if I give you a little here and a little there, you’ll get hooked on the Inklings all over again. So, here rolls the first post-MIA blog topic, and it’s a doozie…

I’ve moved… again. Yes, that makes the 3^rd time in less than a year. I’m still in SC, but I moved about 30 minutes away from where I was- go back and read previous posts; I told you all then I hated that damn town, so yeah, I got out. This move came after meeting a guy, so, we decided to jump in head first and become the Brady Bunch- me and my two kids, him and his daughter, and we took on a stray 17 year old (okay, so not a stray, we knew him and everything beforehand, he just needed to get the hell outta his mother’s house ASAP, so we took him in). Oh yeah, and Z moved out.

A lot has happened.

So, in the last year of my life I’ve gone from a full time tattoo artist/part time mom (as horrible as that sounds, it’s the truth), to a stay at home mom, to a working single mom, now to a working mom in a family of 6…

No, I haven’t drank my V8 in a while, so that must explain why I keep smacking myself in the forehead, right???

Throughout all of this, though, there seems to be one thing that has remained the same- my desire to be SuperMom.

You are familiar with SuperMom, right? She’s that woman who gets the kids up and to school in the morning, works during the day, comes home and cooks a 7 course meal, bakes cookies, checks the kids’ homework behind them to make sure it’s right, does laundry for the next day, packs lunches and puts them in the fridge, has cleaned the house, gets the kids ready for bed, reads bedtime stories, sits down and still has time to blog, watch TV and whatever else she wants before getting 7-9 ample hours of sleep so she can do it all again the next day, all with no help from anyone.

 Okay, stop your laughing. I can hear it…

Creating Normalcy

The kids are off to school, there's a cup of coffee sitting next to me, Bones is running around chasing, hell I don't know, her tail, Z is back in bed, and I'm (finally) blogging--- what's this? Deja vu? Ahh, memories of how things were just a few short months ago.

I've been MIA. Seriously. For those who have been with me a while, you can be happy once again; I have interwebbies in the house, and because I've taken such a long break from blogging, my head is exploding with ideas. I think I might just sit around all day and write; save draft after draft, hoard them like a squirrel getting ready for winter, in case life gets crazy again.

If this is your first time venturing to The Inklings of Life, then you've come at a great time. Hell, about 6 months ago was a great time to be here, too. I was winning awards, on the track to being a pretty popular mommy blog. Then life threw a curveball. It's still my goal though, promise you that. But head through the archives, check out the Readers Favorite Posts; you'll see that this was a pretty crazy place to hang out- and once will be again. =)

Amidst all this chaos, establishing a routine and creating some normalcy around here has been my top priority. I have a 45 minute (one way) commute to work everyday, which has given me tons of time to think, and the question popped into my head recently of 'What the hell is normalcy?' I mean, look at the word itself- it even looks abnormal. I've spell checked it a dozen times already- an 'l' then a 'c'? I thought maybe for a second I had made the word up, and my spell check was just laughing at me for entering in a word that doesn't exist. But it does. 'Being within certain limits that define a normal range of functioning.'

Hold up. I was taught in the first grade not to use the word itself in the definition... Oh how times have changed, I guess.....