1 Year Ago, Part 2

Dear Mom,

As I write this post, at exactly this hour, this time last year, I was saying goodbye to you for the last time.

Is it weird to say that I remember the day in snap shots?

It started with waking up with horrible cramps and GSIL bringing me to the ER.

Little Brother calling to say that I had to come upstairs to the ICU.

Standing there blankly as Little Sister told me your heart was giving out.

Being made to go back downstairs to the OB/GYN to get a shot and fluids.

Applying chap stick in the hallway and telling The Aunts that "No, there was nothing more to do."

Husband standing behind me as they asked Daddy if they shut off your monitors, silently crying.

Getting home, cracking a beer and taking two percocet.

That is how I remember the day. How has it been a whole year already?

It feels like it was just yesterday that we were having coffee together, but it also feels like a lifetime ago that we spent those 2 1/2 weeks in the ICU with you.

Your headstone goes in this week. I had them design it after one of your paintings, I hope you will love it.

I don't have to tell you how much I love and miss you, you know that already. I do want you to know that I can now say your name without a hitch in my voice. I can now recall stories without breaking down. I can talk about how much I miss you without feeling the hate and anger that plagued me for so long.

Most importantly, I can almost smile now when I think of our own personal memories together. I'm jumping the hurdles. I'm getting there... Someday.

1 Year Ago

Today.

I sit here with my eyebrows scrunched, lips pursed and nose wrinkled.

I don't know how I feel; or how to feel.

And I know this next week is going to (or should) bring a flood of emotions, but right now... I've got nothing.

It's like my emotional barometer has it's hands up in the air, saying "I don't know, let me get back to you..."

6 Women, 1 House, Part 1

I ran away with my girlfriends to Chatham this weekend and had a blast. Life gets so busy sometimes that it is easy to forget or ignore the fact that everyone needs a break from time to time.

My next few posts are going to chronicle the hysterical and jaw dropping moments that occurred during our 48 hour mini-vacation. This post is seriously TAME compared to what I am going to throw at you in the upcoming week so bare with me...

We got into town around 530 and it was already dark. When husband and I were down last, I had given my copy of the house key to him because he did not have his. Out of sheer laziness, I never put it back on my key ring and threw it in the junk drawer. With about 10 other random keys.

Shit.

I grabbed all of them and hit the road. Once at the house, after spending 15 infuriating minutes trying to force each of the keys in to the lock, I gave up. It was pitch black, cold and we all had to pee. My little known secret was about to be outed.

I had to pick the lock. Thankfully the girls were just so happy to be in the house that they didn't much notice or care how I did it. With the exception of Beta Wife. BW is one of my BFF's and we joke that she is Husbands second in command.

She looks me up and down and says;

"You are such a fucking freak."

::gigglesnort::

You ever feel like you are being watched?

I do. All the time, as a matter of fact.

My psychotic neighbor has installed 3 (3!!!) camera's on his property that are all trained to point directly at my home. He can see my entire driveway, my back yard and my front yard. Not to mention into any of the windows that are included in those areas.

His reasoning? He wants to catch me and Husband plowing snow into his yard. Mind you, we live in a heavily populated neighborhood. The tree belts were designed for placing snow during storms. They are public domain, thus this is where the snow goes when the city plows the streets. He is convinced that the salt from our driveway is ruining his sidewalk. Yeah, we don't use salt.

Also, I don't think this is his only motivation. I think he is a sick and preverted asshole.

Want to know how much more twisted this guy is? He took out a No Trespass Order on a 12 year old because the kids ball was rolling into his yard.

I called the Police Department and complained about invasion of privacy. I was told that there is nothing I can do about it and to get better shades.

I feel like I am being stalked and there is nothing I can do about it. This guy creeps me out so badly that I no longer feel comfortable going outside.

I hate him. HATE HIM. I daydream about bumping into him and telling him what a psycho he is. You know, flipping my shit.

I really just can't believe there are no laws against someone taping my home 24 hours a day, seven days a week, against my will. Furious does not cover it.

be careful what you wish for

I begged for my boob issues to be resolved. BEGGED.

Whelp, my prayers were answered and the top half of my body is now cooperating. The bottom half? Not so much.

AF seems to have taken a leave of absence. About 2 months missing, to be truthful.

Doctor: Huh, well that is weird. Take a test once a week and keep me posted. I doubt you are pregnant though, your uterus is tiny.

I can't even begin to explain how thankful I am for Dollar Tree tests because I would be broke right now otherwise.

I have taken Murphy hostage and have now dubbed it Chatham's Law.

Dear Vineyard Vines

Dear Vineyard Vines,

If you need someone to test or review your products, I would like to formally offer my assistance. I promise I would be the bestest tester you have ever had. I would also review the hell out of your amazingly perfect products. Let me know, mkay?

Sincerely and Begging,

Chatham

P.S. Can we start with this bag?

Attack of the Killer Broccoli

So there I was, minding my own business, cleaning out the fridge.

You know how it goes with this chore. Pulling out cartons, doing the sniff test or staring blankly at a tupperware thinking "What the Hell was that?"

Anyway, waaaaaay in the back, I found such a container housing some broccoli. I couldn't remember that last time I bought broccoli. Scary.

I toss the whole thing into the sink and start scrubbing the shelves. I am in my groove, singing along to Sugarland on the radio, when there is a small explosion behind me.

It actually startled me so badly that I banged my head on the door and the dogs went bananas.

I have NO IDEA where the sound came from, but I can smell it. Holy Hell could I smell it.

For about 3 minutes I walked around the house trying to figure out where the stench was coming from. It was EVERYWHERE. I honestly started thinking that some kids set off a stink bomb outside.

I walked back into the kitchen and noticed a tupperware lid on the floor. I wish I could somehow show you all how bad it reeked. In awe, I peer into the sink and see the broccoli on one side, bowl on the other.

I don't know if the tupperware evicted the broccoli or if the broccoli escaped via explosives, but in any event, there was a definite parting of ways between the two.

I don't think I will ever get this smell out of the house. Husband is not going to be amused.