They say You are what you eat and the 11 YR old (pictured here) loves pizza. I mean ,he loves it more than life itself. He loves it like how I love chocolate and pumpkin spice.At Wal-Mart he saw this and it was perfect for him. Pizza Man. It’s the funniest thing ever and so fitting. I had another emotional breakdown sort of thing again last night as well: I was cuddling Buddy laying on my bed before bedtime and looking at him grateful for him and realizing how much I love him and am so happy he’s in my life and the tears just started to flow I just got so emotional so I don’t know if it’s just my bipolar again or maybe I’m being hormonal from menopause like I used to get during Aunt Flow and when I was prego. I notice it happens frequently lately though; I get so emotional and just start bawling over nothing. It’s so weird.
Buddy also is so smart even he (like the kids) tricks me and takes advantage of my failing mind and forgetfulness as well: he’ll try and “sneak” extra walks in, hoping I’ll forget that I just took him out, trying to convince me it’s time for another walk and indicate he wants to go out,hoping I’ll forget that we just did. Sneaky and under-handed, but smart.
The 17 YR old also got me this: pumpkin spice egg-nog! She works at the grocery store and saw a customer buy it so she got one too. I had to take my lactose pills though first otherwise in 8 hours I’d be sorry. It’s creamy , smooth and good, and tastes sort of like a pumpkin milkshake. I’ve never seen it before though so I think it must be something new. It’s really weird when you think about it though: pumpkin is really actually a vegetable , like a squash, not a fruit and here we are putting it in all kinds of dessert foods like cake, muffins, ice cream, drinks, cereal, etc. Maybe it’s like tomatoes; they’re actually fruit but they have an identity crisis and they think they’re vegetables and they even hang out in the garden with all the other vegetables instead of on the trees or vines with the other fruits!
My mother also got mad and yelled at me (but not at my hubby, of course, even though we were both yelling at eachother) saying she hates it that we’re always fighting about sports as I was watching the news and had the sports parts muted as I don’t watch it and then he un-mutes it even though he doesn’t even normally watch the news; he just comes in and takes over like he’s the king or something…….. or he just does it to piss me off…….. and then when I said, BOTH my mother and I don’t like it, don’t watch it,and mute it, so it’s 2 against one…..what happened to majority rules? so then she had the nerve to smirk, Well, then, in that case I abstain! … just so I wouldn’t win(she even goes out of her way to get me riled up, make me upset, make me look bad, or make me lose out) knowing if it’s 1 against 1 and if it’s just between me and him he’ll always get his way as I never over-rule anyone because I’m nobody and hold no power or influence. Because she’s a spiteful controlling bitch like that. Then when I asked her why she always sucks up to him, kisses his ass, and takes his side all the time and never mine she coos, Because you’re always WRONG!
and they wonder why I hate my life and my family?
Why does she hate me so much,anyway?
Poor Sunny the sunflower is dying. Parts are turning yellow now and the leaves are getting some sort of rot on them now, some kind of blemish or blight, and are drying up and dying…..and it just ever stayed a plant and never did produce a flower; never did blossom. Just like me. Living a hard life of struggle all for nothing and even right to the end never producing any fruits. I wonder if it might also be symbolic,too: it’s dying now and maybe I am,too? Maybe it’s like we live sort of parallel lives and we’re both drying up, withering away,and dying together? Both dying before we ever got a chance to bloom. At least between my Pap test and my ultrasound next month if I really do have reproductive or rectal cancer or something( which would explain my symptoms) they should find something….
The kids also got me these amazing pumpkin spice Cheerios because they know other than chocolate that pumpkin spice is my all-time fave. and I love all things pumpkin spice because I am a Basic White Girl like that( although on the inside I’m really actually more Black, but that’s for another post later). When I reacted joyfully and shrieked, Oooohh!!! Hallelujah! Praise Jesus! of course they all tired to take credit for being the one that bought it. Either way, it’s just sooooo good, perfect for snacking on dry, and this makes up for when they took my iPod. They have redeemed themselves.
Until next time.
I was also going thru some old photos the other day for Throwback Thursday and I found this one, which is one of my faves of the 15 YR old and I 5 years ago when she was 10. This was back when she used to still love me and let me love her back, back when we used to be really close. Before she grew up and got older and distanced herself from me and pushed me out of her life. When she did it left this big empty hole inside of me, a loss and void and then Buddy came along and filled it. I love this picture as it reminds me of what we once had, of a happier time, of what I wish I still had, and wish I could get back again. I’ll still always love her; I’m just not “allowed” to express it anymore.
The lump under Buddy’s eye finally popped as well! It was a big, hard, round lump like a pea and it had a big “head” on it like a pimple and he was cuddling with me,looking at me with a sad, pleading, Please help me! look on his face, so I squeezed it and it popped. He did flinch , wince,and yelp slightly, but he didn’t try and bite, wiggle, or escape; it’s like he knew I was helping him even if it hurt. I was able to squeeze out lots of fluid, which was a transparent yellow/orange colour and had a slight metallic odour. Then it went all the way down and deflated but it must have still been itchy as he kept rubbing it against my leg, on the carpet, and scratching it…..but then scratching it he also tore it apart and made this big gash and it split open and when I tried to put a Band-Aid on it he kept running away and was mad at me but I was still able to put antibiotic cream on it and at least on his face he can’t lick it off! I guess it must have been some sort of cyst or boil then being fluid-filled as tumours are solid masses….
I also notice too my own cuts and sores used to heal in just days but lately they take 2-3 weeks so my immune sysyem must be shot, but I also read somewhere if wounds are slow healing it can be an indication you have hemophilia, a blood-clotting disorder. Only males actually have it but females can be carriers, so it makes me wonder, esp. since I do always have really heavy periods and bad hemmoraging with every baby I’ve had at birth and I always need medication to help control the bleeding plus extra monitoring and longer time in the recovery room because I just won’t stop bleeding and I remember when they took that polyp off my colon they called it a real bleeder and said that was unusual and they had to put a clip on it to stop the heavy bleeding as well which they don’t usually do so it does make you wonder, esp. with my inherited Alpha-1 antitrypsan deficiency it makes me wonder what other genetic issues I may also have,too…..
As for Trump nominating a guy to the Supreme Court being accused to sexual assault back as a teen, my thoughts are simply this: I have no way of knowing who’s telling the truth; him or her, but I think the only thing worse than a guilty person getting away is an innocent person being wrongly accused and ruined so I just hope that the truth prevails and is revealed, whatever it may be.
I took these shots of Buddy and I sitting out in the backyard just snuggling on the porch swing enjoying what we can of the last of the mild weather before it gets too cold to be outdoors, and I was just loving on him, thanking God for him, being grateful for him in my life,savouring the moment, and the 11 YR old saw this photo and goes, You look like an old man! and it got me thinking, I know, I’ve been told many times I look like a man, I look like an old man, I look like a dyke, I look like an old lesbian, etc. but to Buddy it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter.
He loves me anyway. Just as I am.
It doesn’t matter that I look like a man in drag.
Or that I weigh as much as a hippo, and that I’m crazy, that I’m broken, damaged, traumatized,
and love the ganja.
or that I can’t do math in my head( or any other way, for that matter)
It doesn’t matter that people find me irritating and annoying.
It doesn’t matter that I’m not smart, I’m a mess,or that I struggle with everything
or that I’ve never been popular and that no
one loves me except for him.
It doesn’t matter that I fail at everything I try and
that I sing out loud even though I can’t sing.
It doesn’t matter that I’m perfectly imperfect.
He loves me anyway.
Just as I am.
It doesn’t matter
that he’s old and grey now
or that he hobbles and limps along slowly,
or that he has a big lump under his eye, and
has death-breath that could be classified as a biological weapon.
It doesn’t matter that his farts smell like skunk
or that he’s missing teeth
and always steals my spot on the couch
or sometimes shits on the carpet when he has diarrhrea.
I love him just the way he is.
To me he’s perfect.
- 1-1/2 c. pureed pumpkin
- ½ c. unsweetened applesauce
- 1 whole egg
- 3 egg whites
- 1 c. all-purpose flour
- ⅔ c. whole wheat flour
- ½ c. Stevia Cup For Cup sweetener
- ½ c. granulated sugar1 t. baking soda
- ½ t. ground cinnamon1/2 t. ground nutmeg
- Cream filling:
- 8 oz. reduced fat cream cheese
- ¼ c. granulated sugar
- 1 T. all-purpose flour
- 2 egg whites
- 1 t. vanilla extract
- For the Batter: With an electric mixer, beat the pumpkin, applesauce, egg, and egg whites on medium speed until smooth. In a separate bowl, combine the flours, Stevia, sugar, baking soda, cinnamon and nutmeg. Slowly mix the flour mixture into the pumpkin mixture.
- For the cream cheese filling: Beat the cream cheese, sugar, vanilla, egg whites and flour until creamy and smooth.
- Grease 2 8x4x2″ loaf pans. Divide half of the batter between the two pans. Pour half of the filling in one pan and the other half in the second pan and smooth with the back of a spoon. Top with the remaining batter.
- Bake in a 350 degree oven for about 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Don’t overbake or your bread will be dry on the edges. Cool and remove from pans. Store in the refrigerator in an airtight container.
For the woman whose husband makes an “extra stop” after work every evening.
For the woman who is mourning the loss of a pregnancy nobody knew about.
For the woman who leads from the front even though she’s lost inside.
For the woman who was fired for her fourth late because she’s been awake for a straight week with a sick child.
For the single mum who doesn’t know how the utilities will stay on this month.
For the woman who has gone through 2 IVF’s and tried for five years without success but still shows up to every baby shower for her friends.
For the woman who has a line of judging eyes at her and her children as she counts out coins and puts something back at the supermarket.
For the woman that opens the door to the news of her husband being killed overseas three weeks before he was to return home.
For the woman that lives with anxiety because nobody understands what she could possibly be stressed about.
For the woman that gives to her family all day- everyday and just.needs.a.break.
For the woman that smiles at strangers all day in public- but weeps silently every night.
For the woman who has wanted to end it all but found strength to carry on.
For the woman that heard the rumor about herself today.
For the woman sleeping next to a stranger every night.
For the woman whose genetics will never allow her to look like the ones in magazines.
For the woman that endures one broken relationship after another because there was no father around to teach her what love looks like.
For the woman raising a fatherless daughter and praying that history doesn’t repeat itself.
For the woman who loves with all her heart who’s desperate to be loved.
For every single woman that cries in the shower so nobody else can see. Because if you aren’t strong-nobody is.
Just because the water washes your tears doesn’t mean you don’t cry. Just because you cry doesn’t mean you’re not strong enough to handle it.
I am you. I see you. I am with you, I cry with you. I love you.
Author: Brittany Latham