Suburban Goddess

I decided that I wanted to have a printed copy of this blog to pass down to my kid someday, so I found a great site called Qoop that will print your blog for you in book form. How cool is that???

“You’ve changed a lot in the past few months.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You’ve changed. You’re a lot different then you were. More like you used to be.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. I’m glad to see her back. I missed her.”

As I read about the missile launch in Russia and the breakdown of nuclear talks in Iran, on the heels of one of the bloodiest days in Baghdad and the senseless hanging of children in Fort Worth, I have to wonder where have all the sane people gone?

Perhaps it is my lack of faith that leaves me wondering, how in the HELL can you do this to someone? How do you convince someone to strap a bomb on themselves and blow up innocent people in the name of something? How can a human being walk past the innocent eyes of a child standing nearby, knowing you are about to send him to his grave, and flip the switch that obliterates everything around? Where has society failed that human being, that they could completely disregard the promise in the eyes of that child? The potential for change, and hope, and love?

And the war that we are fighting, the war I believed in when it started, what have we done to this country? What have we done to it’s people? What are we really doing over there? Over 3000 of our sons and daughters are dead, and over 25,000 are wounded. And those are the ones we don’t hear about, the ones who will suffer the most because they did not escape the peace of death, and will be plagued with memories more horrifying than we can ever imagine.

As a mother, I cannot imagine sending my child to fight a war, any war. I’m not saying that we don’t owe a great debt to those who have died so that we can have our freedom; I believe anyone who has served in the armed forces should be handsomely compensated, not these fat, bloated CEO’s who profit from their sacrifice. And if it weren’t for our soldiers, we may have been over-run by those same fanatics who blow themselves up in the name of a vengeful God. I am thankful to those who have died in my name. I owe them more than gratitude for keeping my country safe and giving my daughter a place to rest her head at night without fear of being ruthlessly attacked because of her beliefs. Saying thank you is not enough. If anyone has ever dodged a bullet in the name of freedom, they should never have to work again when they come home. They would have DIED for you. They have seen unspeakable horrors so that your biggest concern can be WHY DIDN’T BLAKE WIN???

Do you realize how lucky you are? You can believe anything you want, and speak about it freely. In other countries, in this day and age, you could be brutally murdered for expressing yourself. (I’m sure I would have died many violent deaths already from this blog alone).

I understand, as long as there are crazy people out there, there will be war. There will be suffering, and there will be strife. There will always be a need for armed forces because, inevitably, there will always be those out there who got their genetic wires crossed. There will always be crazy people. But how many are driven to it that could have been normal, happy people?

And money. It is the same money that pays for corporate golf outings that eluded the mother in Fort Worth, who somehow convinced herself there was no future without money, so she killed her own children and took her life rather than live without material things. In a land where the poor fight for your freedom, couldn’t someone have helped those less fortunate? Sure, there are those who choose not to help themselves, but there are also those who just DON’T KNOW HOW. I’ve seen them. I KNOW them. They are GOOD people, who have had BAD THINGS happen. Somebody has to show them the way; somebody has to help them. If not for them, then for their children, before they suffer the same fate as these.

Given the state of our political system, isn’t anyone concerned that the forces of the world feel the need to arm themselves? Has anyone wondered WHY? What would motivate a country to begin nuclear research? What would motivate a country to build an elaborate missile system? I pray they are only doing it for their own protection, and aren’t motivated by the greed that seems to be consuming our country.

God and money. How many people on this earth will die senselessly in the name of God and money?

“How you holding up?”

“As well as I can, circumstances considered.”

“You know you’ve got friends. You can go anywhere you want, say the word.”

“I know.”

“Did I mention I’ve been working on my abs?”

“Brat.”

While we were moving this weekend, Alex was uncharacteristically clingy. Add to the mess that it was raining all weekend, so when there was a break between showers, we were forced to move quickly, which left little time to comfort my daughter and help her understand that, yes, Dora will be okay, she’s just going to the new house. But the single worst moment was while we were taking a break at the new house, sitting around amongst the boxes.

“Go home, Mommy. Want go home.”

It makes me absolutely sick.

When I started this blog, it was a happy place. Suburban Goddess was a term I thought of as cheeky, spunky, and generally spirited. I was a happy new mom, eager to share my trials & tribulations of life as it is; a portrait of a normal middle-class woman struggling with the balance of marriage, work, and motherhood. It was a good life, an easy life.

Over the past year, as my marriage began to struggle then fail, it’s become more of a story of the struggles that so many women endure. The shininess wore off. Reality sets in. Marriage, and LIFE, is hard. It takes an incredible toll on your self-esteem. It wears at your patience. Your priorities change from excessive wants to basic needs for survival. The mother bear instinct kicks in, and you want to rip the face off the people who cause your child to cry, all while you’re trying not to collapse into a crying heap yourself.

A Suburban Goddess is more than a diva; she’s a survivor. She survives through headaches & heartaches. She takes her place in a man’s world, and goes head to head with chauvanism and pig-headedness every day. She deals with liars and cheaters, but never gives up hope. She is strong, she is beautiful, and she is determined. And someday, when the stars align and she has paid her debt to karma, there will stand her Adonis, her true knight in shining armor, who will never make her feel worthless or stupid, who will appreciate her strength and wit, and who will cherish and worship her the way a man should.

And he’ll have great abs, too.

I’ve been dealing with my ex’s betrayal for about 48 hours now, and I have come to the conclusion that I am done. It doesn’t matter anyway.

He has always been selfish. He has always thought the world revolved around him, and when it didn’t, he would pout. He was the emotional equivelent of an 8-year-old. He never truly connected with me, never truly opened up completely to me, and never showed me that he had the ability to be vunerable.

He was hopelessly UNROMANTIC. Sure, he had his own way, but it was so few and far between, that to me, it seemed non-existant. He never accepted me for what I was, and while we’re being honest, let just say his selfishness carried over into other areas that left me feeling unfulfilled, unsatisfied, and unhappy.

This is the reality I avoided for years. This was not the person I was meant to be with. And the resentment I harbored for his lack of emotion, consideration, and communication is what drove him into the arms of this other woman. And that’s okay, because he wasn’t meant to be with me.

Salcam, you’re right. I’m definately better off without this one. What I should have done years ago is opened my eyes and saw him for EXACTLY what he was. Everyone else knew it. Everyone else warned me. Even his own family kept asking me, “Are you sure?” My closest friends questioned my judgement; sure, he’s a funny, outgoing guy, but ARE YOU SURE? While we were married, everyone would tell me I had way more patience then they did.

You’re right. I did!

But in the end, none of it matters. It’s over, done, and finished. All I was meant to get out of this relationship is a beautiful daughter and the realization that I CANNOT COMPROMISE on the features that I consider important. If a man is not romantic during the first year of courtship, then how can I expect him to be for the rest of my life? If a man cannot deal with my negative streak for more than fifteen mintues, then it’s not going to last. And if a man is not going to stand by me during the rough times, and really WORK to keep the realtionship together, then I’m better off without him, because that’s not a man.

I’m not saying Chip didn’t have positive qualities. He had a lot of them. But I’ve been hanging on to those for so long, refusing to see the OTHER qualities that were screaming at me the whole time. The things that are important to me were never there. And that’s why it’s time to cut my losses, accept reality, and move on.

..I’d put everything in the 3-car garage on Craigslist for $1. So don’t F#$% with me.

I was in the process of moving tonight, when the phone rang. A strange voice was on the other line. He asked if I’d heard of him. I said no. He asked if I knew his wife, Darlene. I said no. He said I should, because his wife had been having an affair with my husband for the past year and a half.

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense.

He told me things I didn’t want to hear. He told me about how they would travel out of town together. He took her to New Orleans in the Lotus. He took her to the beach with my child last weekend. He’s bought her extravegent gifts. I wanted to throw up. He told me they’d been carrying on through their private MySpace accounts. Lo and behold, against my better judgement, I went and looked. This is what I found:

I want to throw up. I want answers. I want to know how I could be so stupid. I want to know why he couldn’t be a man. I obviously know why he wouldn’t work it out with me now; she’s a beautiful woman. And she’s got great boobs. But THIS IS WHY WE’RE NOT TOGETHER. Because you CHECKED OUT. Here’s the proof. And if this isn’t enough, I have an inbox full of other pictures…. thanks to this woman’s husband.

No wonder you weren’t interested in therapy. I could say a million spiteful, hateful things, but what good would it do? This says everything for me.

I spent four hours completing a personality test the other day. At the end of the four-hour course, I was not surprised in the least with the outcome.

I’m a psycho hose-beast.

I am a dominant personality. I am so dominant that I borderline on neurotic. My actions are frequently misintepreted as pushy, demanding, and rude. I have an obsessive attention to detail that annoys others, and my need for attention is often perceived as egotistcal and boastful.

No kidding.

There were a few positives to the personality type, but being the ultra-obsessive-negative personality type that I am, I don’t remember them. Adding insult to injury is the test administrator, who was walking around peeking over our shoulders to assess the results. When she got to mine, she stopped.

“Wow.”

Not, WOW!, or WOOOW!, but just plain, monotone, Wow. As in, “I got a psycho hose-beast here Wow.” She then proceeded to point out my defective personality in front of the entire group, telling me that I would have to work “extra hard” to keep from being misunderstood. That’s comforting; I already feel alientated from the world, now I have to work “extra hard” to be accepted in it.

Since the test, I’m amazed at how people treat me differently. When I’m firm, they tell me, “Oh, that’s just your D personality.” No, this is my DO YOUR JOB personality. It has nothing to do with delivery, but everything to do with the fact that SOMETHING IS NOT DONE. Obsessive attention to detail? Well, I GUESS SO.

This is my D personality telling you to GET OVER IT & DO YOUR DAMN JOB.