tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87352423408185955802024-03-13T11:16:04.397-04:00Sober MommySober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-73012700833277264262011-04-22T20:59:00.001-04:002011-04-22T20:59:18.320-04:00Test<p>This is a test post to see how easy it would be to post through blogsy. </p>
<p class=""><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2231/3532325584_65d45f2266.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2231/3532325584_65d45f2266.jpg" id="blogsy-1303520409867.077" class="alignleft" alt="" width="375" height="500"></a></p>
Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-50395524525531102662010-07-26T13:16:00.001-04:002010-07-26T13:17:09.299-04:00Being In South Sucks Right Now....A lotI was on vacation last week.<br />
And I went to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/American-Pie-Presents-Band-Camp/dp/B000BV66VA%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3DB000BV66VA" rel="amazon nofollow" title="American Pie Presents: Band Camp [UMD for PSP]">Band Camp</a>. And to my knowledge it wasn't like the movie. <br />
<br />
It was hot. And sticky. And sweaty. <br />
<br />
I am so proud of my daughter. The temperature was well over 95 for several days and with the humidity it felt like....I don't know what it felt like. Let's just say it was sticky, sweaty and hot and I know - beyond a shadow of any doubt I would have quit - I couldn't have handled being in the sun. Sitting under the tent was bad enough. <br />
<br />
<br />
I also met an inspirational woman last week. *J* is 35 and was diagnosed with <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breast_cancer" rel="wikipedia nofollow" title="Breast cancer">breast cancer</a> about a year ago. She's gone through surgery and chemo. She's lucky though - she's made it through to the other side. And with perky new <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breast" rel="wikipedia nofollow" title="Breast">boobs</a>. That seems like the least that God could do for her since she also gained 20 pounds while going through chemo. I told her that was SO not fair in so many ways. Gain weight and have cancer? Not cool God. Not cool at all. <br />
<br />
<br />
This week I'm at work and my daughter is still at camp. For 12 hours a day. I'm really not too sure what they do for 12 hours a day but I guess it super important because apparently they are entertained.<br />
<br />
Still though...it's hot, and sticky, and sweaty. <br />
<br />
This weekend I also took the girls school shopping. I think that, along with putting zoloft into every divorcing woman's coffee each day to allow for that blissful "I don't care what is happening around me because life is...mellow", school shopping is also best done sedated. If sedated you don't want to scream at them "For GODSAKE find SOMETHING that you like!". Instead you would be completely and utterly blissful in their lack of finding something as you go from store, to store, to store.<br />
<br />
In the hot, sticky, and sweaty south.<br />
These are the times I wished I lived in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=45.4,-75.6666666667&spn=10.0,10.0&q=45.4,-75.6666666667%20%28Canada%29&t=h" rel="geolocation nofollow" title="Canada">Canada</a>.<br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_a.png?x-id=8e491c1c-5589-4e4e-82ea-c62ec49c2df5" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script defer="defer" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" type="text/javascript">
</script></span></div>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-30088993663579408282010-07-19T20:41:00.000-04:002010-07-19T20:41:45.909-04:00Why My Children Are Destined To Be In Therapy<a href="http://www.abdpbt.com/?cat=148" mce_href="http://www.abdpbt.com/?cat=148"><img alt="listbutton" mce_src="http://www.abdpbt.com/listbutton.jpg" src="http://www.abdpbt.com/listbutton.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
Today I'm joining Anna over at <a href="http://www.abdpbt.com/">ABDPBT</a> with List Monday. I found Anna the way most of us find blogs to follow, you latch onto a certain blog and then, much like a spider, you fan out to see what that person reads and volia! Your blog list just grew by 20.<br />
<br />
I'm not quite sure that 'spider' is a complement however 'stalking' sounds much less appealing.<br />
<br />
Anyway, getting back to the task at hand, one of the things that Anna's blog has is snarky. Lots and lots of snark. Which makes me laugh. And I like. And I desperately need at this point.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why I'm Destined To Have Children In Therapy</b> <br />
<br />
1. I don't cater to their every need. Sometimes they just need to learn to suck it up and move on. I consider this a good lesson towards getting along at work someday because honestly? They call it work because hello...it's not called vacation.<br />
<br />
2. I expect them to help out with their siblings. No, I don't expect them to mother them but I do expect that they will look out for each other. Apparently in today's society that equates to being a family, which is an outdated concept.<br />
<br />
3. I let them suffer their own conquences. (Okay, I'm working on this but I'm totally adding it because it sucks.) Forget an assignment for the 3rd time this semester? Well, you get to work out an agreeable solution with your teacher. And no, it cannot mean you get a zero. <br />
<br />
4. I will embarrass them if at all possible when they are annoying me. Wanna be snarky and ugly towards me? Well, I'll wait until a time when you are just riding along in the car thinking everything is going great and wham! I'll open the windows and start singing old Journey songs. <br />
<br />
If you haven't read <a href="http://www.abdpbt.com/">ABDPBT</a> take a look and if you look hard enough you'll figure out what it means. :)Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-51269521712902254822010-07-16T19:35:00.000-04:002010-07-16T19:35:34.934-04:00Just In Time For The WeekendSo here we are.<br />
The weekend.<br />
<br />
I can still remember when weekends started on Thursday and didn't end until....well, sometimes they didn't end - they just started again on Thursday. In past few days I written about how I struggle from time to time and, for today, I can say that TODAY wasn't a day I have struggled. Yet. I still could. But if I do I can just go to bed now and it be somewhat normal. I mean, doesn't everyone periodically go to bed at 8:00? <br />
<br />
What I *have* been doing for the past few days is searching back through blogs that are reflective of time in sobriety. Reading posts that remind me how grateful I am of what I have now and about how everyone struggles at times. Doesn't make you different. Or bad. It makes you HUMAN.<br />
<br />
One of the blogs I've been reading is <a href="http://www.thesobergirl.com/blog/">Sober Girl</a>. Sober Girl is primarily a blog of inspirational sayings and thoughts. (And as a side note - if you had told me a few years ago that I would be querying through inspirational sayings and thoughts I would have told you that you had lost your mind. But I digress. Progress folks.. Progress.) The one that is standing out right now for me is the entry from June 24 - <a href="http://thesobergirl.com/blog/?p=191">Forgiving Myself</a>. I still need to remember to give myself a break from time to time. To remember to forgive myself while I am in the process of forgiving everyone else for everything else and to remember that there isn't a one to one forgive you, forgive me that I'm trying to get to so that I am absolved of what I have done in the past. <br />
<br />
Will I never *not* be that person?<br />
Will I *ever* not be a writer who has run on sentences and someone who is a comma addict? <br />
Ever?<br />
<br />
But, for today, I'm in a good place. Right now I'm sitting here with my mini me watching the Good Night Show and Caillou is on. Now, I won't go as far as to say that I'm actually HAPPY about watching Caillou but I will say I sure am happy that I have the chance.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-90730788202411659312010-07-15T12:57:00.002-04:002010-07-15T15:57:33.380-04:00Well, that was an airhead moment....<a href="http://www.girltalkthursday.com/"><img src="http://i652.photobucket.com/albums/uu250/MommyMelee/girltalk_small.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
I'm participating in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.girltalkthursday.com/" rel="homepage nofollow" title="Girl Talk (musician)">Girl Talk</a> Thursday because baby, I did a dumb, dumb thing at work yesterday.<br />
<br />
The day started out the way days do now days when your doing the work of two people instead of one. Meetings, meeting, training, meeting, meeting and of course my *favorite* of all - let's all gather our status and discuss! Yea me!! I was tired. I was rundown and most of all, I was starving by the time 4:00 rolled around. Silly me had scheduled a call for 4 that should take no more than 30 minutes but of course took a good 10 to get started. *And* in a just amazing show of intelligence I scheduled another for 4:30. I worked with my client watching the computer clock as the minutes went by. 4:15, 4:20, 4:25. Frustrated I sent an email to my 4:30 and rescheduled.<br />
<br />
FINALLY we got what we were working on to work. I had made the changes needed and then, with apparently no thought, opened email, attached the document, and hit SEND.<br />
<br />
Needless to say I almost crapped in the floor at that moment. Instead I just put my head down and hyperventilated. I had sent something that shouldn't be sent. QUICKLY I hit the recall and delete message and by a miracle it worked.<br />
<br />
Or at least I think it did.<br />
Question now? Do I call and say, "hey, did I send something to you yesterday that was X client accidently?' Or just leave it alone? I'm choosing leave it alone, crossing my fingers, and hoping for the best. <br />
<br />
Yep. Brilliant I know. Sometimes my 14 yr old looks at me like she's wondering how I get up in the morning and get myself to work.<br />
<br />
I think she may have a point. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_a.png?x-id=a5f276a3-48a0-4860-8dbf-fe2bceb7f5c6" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script defer="defer" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" type="text/javascript">
</script></span></div>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-1443173003030364432010-07-14T12:23:00.000-04:002010-07-14T12:23:41.870-04:00And Now, For The Rest Of The StoryI'm one tired, frustrated, cranky mess. I was out of my medicine for a week and that is totally not acceptable. Worst of all? it's all my fault. It's not like I didn't KNOW that it would happen. What am I? 12? Someone who thinks that the rules don't apply to her? Don't answer that - I'm WORKING on this people. A procastinator? Of course. Interestingly I am only a procastinator when I have not many things to do. Give me more than someone reasonable can handle? I'm ALL over it. But not so busy? Not so interested. Anyone else? <br />
<br />
If you relate to any of the above? Well, I don't know what to say other than I feel your pain.<br />
<br />
It's times like this when that little voice inside my head starts to question myself. It goes something like this....<br />
<br />
Really? I know you SAY that your an alcoholic but really are you? Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, life is more stable thus you would be able to have I don't know, 1 or 2 glasses of chardonnay? Besides everyone makes an ass out of themselves from time to time. It wasn't just you. <br />
<br />
Then, *thank god*, the rational voice jumps in with...<br />
<br />
Really? Yea, really. Your life is stable ONLY because you aren't drinking uh, I don't know 1 or 2 glasses of Chardonnay that you would cop to. The other 4 or 5 you think you hid? Yeah, not so much. And what? You are back to thinking that Vodka doesn't smell. You are delusional. And what about that everyone makes an ass out of themselves? Yeah, that's true the only part you left out is being ridiculous is one thing it's whole other thing to get so trashed that you go into pass out mode while your eyes are open. (Yes, that really happened to me. At the neighborhood Christmas Party. Yeah, let that one sink in for a moment. We haven't gone to anything else in the neighborhood since. That's me - Miss Good Times. Um no.)<br />
<br />
I write this to say that the post I posted yesterday, the one about what I thought Lindsay needed? Yeah, it was full of everything that is bad in recovery.<br />
<br />
Thinking that I'm different than someone else?<br />
Thinking that I know what someone should or shouldn't do based on MY experiences?<br />
<br />
Yeah, those are the reasons why the little thoughts start to come into my head. <br />
I need to stop.<br />
Anyone else feel the same right now?<br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=b273c364-084b-4d48-8a35-1bf2266f93e1" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script defer="defer" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" type="text/javascript">
</script></span></div>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-13101371396584416852010-07-13T14:29:00.000-04:002010-07-13T14:29:29.614-04:00OMG - A Post, A Post, A Post - And My Thoughts On Lindsay LohanBoy, that was a while, wasn't it?<br />
No time no blog, right?<br />
<br />
Life here is still going swimmingly. I've only thought about drinking about a hundred thousand times in the last few weeks. I'm in serious need of structure and accountability.<br />
<br />
So...<br />
Amanda, meet your accountability partner, BLOG. Your relationship with BLOG is only as good as your effort put in. BLOG cannot write posts for you nor can she follow you each day to remind you. <br />
<br />
Moving on....<br />
<br />
Lindsay Lohan. What do I think about this? I think that, unfortunately, it's time for her to pay the price for dodging responsiblities. I read on some website that Lindsay didn't really think that the whole 'jail' thing would happen - that her lawyer would 'take care of it' - in other words, she was paying for someone to handle it and by god, it should be handled. Her old lawyer and her parents weren't doing her any favors. Somewhere along the way I truly think her lawyer knew this but was hoping that she would eventually wise up and get with the program. <br />
<br />
Unfortunately no.<br />
<br />
The sentence handed down by the judge was just in my opinion. In order for her to serve any meaningful time in jail (remember last time she was in for a grand total of 84 minutes) it would take the sentence imposed. Requiring rehab *after* jail only helps to ensure that she will actually be through the majority of the detox so that maybe the help she will get will have some chance of being meaningful. <br />
<br />
Being a mom I would be terrifed if she was my child. I would do whatever it takes to get her help. I realize too that I would have to fight the feelings of enabling her to make her happy and perhaps dead versus being a hard ass thus being an enabler to make her happy AND alive. It's just sad that choosing option 2 is just *so* hard sometimes. On paper it looks obvious - but oh, I imagine it's the most difficult thing you would ever do.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-16972851236308623292010-05-07T12:14:00.000-04:002010-05-07T12:14:42.998-04:00A Mother's Day Wish...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.derekmccrea.50megs.com/images/Butterflies%20and%20Flowers%20final%20painting%20small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://www.derekmccrea.50megs.com/images/Butterflies%20and%20Flowers%20final%20painting%20small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">A mother's love begins<br />
Before the child is born<br />
And lasts through time<br />
And difficulties<br />
And differences<br />
And many wounds<br />
And days of joy<br />
And days of sorrow<br />
Winding, wearing<br />
Weeping, sharing<br />
Changing<br />
Until, at the end<br />
What remains<br />
Is that solid core<br />
That began as love<br />
Before the child was born.<i> </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i> </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Poem: Ruth Greer</i> <a href="mailto:rgreer@uplogon.com">(rgreer@uplogon.com)</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Picture: <a href="http://www.derekmccrea.50megs.com/%20">Derek McCrea</a></i></div></div>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-24419630008941730252010-04-29T15:33:00.001-04:002010-04-29T15:33:29.177-04:00I'm pretty sure my husband will cough up a lung if I bring home a pair of $150 dollar sandles. And other things I should be embarrassed to admit.<span style="color: black;">Random Musings...<br><br></span><ul><li><span style="color: black;">So what if my new obsession is a pair of $150.00 <a href="http://www.sbsandals.com/sandals/Emma%20Classic%20Monogram%20custom.htm">sandles</a>? Oh MY! They are monogrammed and customized - two of my favorite words. Seriously? I have unbelievable obsession with my initials, my kids initials, it doesn't matter. If it's monogrammed then I'm probably going to gravitate to it. And anything that has the perception of custom? I could fodder on and on but you know what? I just like to feel like I am special. And apparently narcissistic - so let's leave it with that.</span></li> <li><span style="color: black;">And pee on the seat when you go to the ladies room at work? An open letter to all women: I KNOW that you were told as a youngster that you can catch an STD from drips on the seat but you know what? <a href="http://www.webmd.com/balance/features/what-can-you-catch-in-restrooms">It's totally not true.</a> So, PLEASE sit on the seat and pee. And, if you just have to pee from basically a standing position, please just wipe. It's really not that difficult. Really.</span></li> <li><span style="color: black;">My children are sucking me dry of money. Over the next few weeks their father and I will be paying for new clothes to go on the school out of town trip, registration fee for colorguard (it's 200 bucks and it's a DEPOSIT?? This frightens me.), and last but not least, registration for cheerleading. So just a word of advice to those who have small children....it's not the baby years that are the most expensive it's the teen years. Just sayin'.</span></li> <li><span style="color: black;">Finally, dear Mozilla that I love so dear. Thanks a lot (NOT) for stopping development work on Windows Fennec. You have no idea how this upsets me so given that I was forced into this crappy window based HTC. I should have gone Android, I know. I love your add-ons and the weave concept but alas, I now have nothing to weave to now. </span></li> <li><span style="color: black;">Twitter - you have no idea how much I miss you. I wish that things like work, and cleaning the house didn't interfere with my ability to come and join you. Maybe someday soon though. Maybe someday soon.</span></li> </ul> Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-42060618438307355342010-04-19T14:49:00.001-04:002010-04-19T14:49:45.187-04:00I would be lying if I said that I never think of drinking.When I was first trying to get sober one of the things that bothered me the most was that I wouldn't be able to have alcohol anymore. Like, ever. For real. By that point I couldn't even fathom life without a glass of chardonnay or a vodka tonic. (As a side note - the more blogs I read about women in recovery the more I'm struck by the fact that almost *all* of us drank chardonnay and vodka. After thinking about it I think I know why - chardonnay is a socially acceptable 'girl' drink and vodka? Let's just say that I think there are more than a few out there who think, "Oh, but it's ODORLESS". Don't laugh - I've heard many **including me** say it.) <br> <br>What was I talking about? Oh yeah, that never drinking again thing. When I was first sober the thought looked something like this: OMGOMGOMG I CAN NEVER DRINK AGAIN? ARE YOU CRAZY? YOU AREN'T? WHAT DO YOU DODODODODO WITH ALL YOUR TIME? WHAT DO I SAY WHEN SOMEONE ASKS ME IF I WANT A GLASS OF WINE? ARE YOU SAYING I CAN'T GO ANYWHERE AGAIN? ARE YOU REALLY REALLY SAYING NONE? LIKE NOT EVEN IN FOOD? WHAT ABOUT A NON ALCOHOLIC BEER? NOT EVEN THAT? WELL THEN TELL ME MRS. RAY OF SUNSHINE COMING OUT OF YOUR BUTT - DO YOU *ACTUALLY* PRACTICE THIS TOO? REALLY? DAMN.<br> <br>I know that seems a little over the top but seriously, this is how I felt. I felt like someone was taking away something from me that allowed me to function. In reality quite the opposite was true. I wasn't functioning, hell, I was barely living by that time. Still though, deep inside I remembered a life without all the drama, a life that centered around being a family rather than one spent building up walls because honestly? No one wanted to be around me.<br> <br>It's the insidious nature of this addiction that creeps back into your mind. Just when you think, "Oh, I'm okay - life is good" life turns around and slaps you in the face. For me that's when I have to really step back and reset. It's the time when I find myself going over and over all the good things that *are* in my life right now when I think, "Maybe just one wouldn't hurt". Oh, it would hurt alright, it would hurt a lot. Sometimes I just have to go to bed. Sleep is safe. <br> <br>I find that usually this feeling comes either when life gets anxious or when I have a dream where I think I am drinking again. Two nights ago I woke up in a sweat because I had a dream where I was drinking. In the dream I was drinking and was terrified that my husband would find out. I was hiding bottles and drinking mouthwash. <br> <br>It was exactly how I use to live my life.<br><br>It's dreams like that and the joy I had this weekend of redecorating my 14 year old's room that stop me in my tracks and make me remember what it was like then and what it is like now.<br> <br>I would be lying if I said that I never think of drinking.<br>But I would also be lying if I said that if I did I would lose all that I've built back up.<br><br>One more minute, one more hour, one more day. That's the only way to do it. At least for me. <br> <br><br><br><br> Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-44931982980587688042010-04-07T09:16:00.001-04:002010-04-07T09:16:33.271-04:00Dear MaddieDear Maddie -<br><br>Last year you were here one minute and gone the next. It's still difficult for me to believe and even more so for your family. Your smile and laugh were contagious. You were coming into your own - searching out the world and what was in it. You had no fear yet, you were just soaking it all in. <br> <br>Over the last year your <a href="http://www.thespohrsaremultipying.com">mommy and daddy</a> have kept your memory strong. They have dealt with feelings and emotions that so many never have to face head on and vowed to give your short life meaning. Your mommy was so scared that people wouldn't remember you - quite the opposite has happened - many, many not only remember you but lives have been saved through their work with the March of Dimes. They started <a href="http://www.friendsofmaddie.org">Friends Of Maddie</a> so that other families can know that they are thought of.<br> <br>You've been an inspiration to me Maddie. You have made me stop and be in the moment more - to give more hugs and kisses. You've inspired me to take more pictures - even if I'm not very good. One night I asked your mommy how to make the background fade - she told me but honestly, I've never been able to do it - your mommy is a much better photographer than I am.<br> <br>There have been times in my life when my faith hasn't been strong. After you passed away I questioned God again - WHY would he do this - to anybody? WHAT is the purpose of families going through this? I've never received an answer though - at least not one that I understood. At the end of the day though I've had to push my questions aside and have faith that someday your mommy and daddy will see you again. I have to have that faith because I need to believe that I will see Addison again. <br> <br>I just have to.<br><br>Love -<br>Amanda<br> Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-16902370701060860642010-04-02T14:40:00.001-04:002010-04-02T14:40:42.155-04:00Why Can't She Just Stop?Recently I've been part of several 'how much is too much' drinking<br>conversations and having them brought back lots and lots of bad<br>memories.  Watching as women sat and made attempts to distance<br>themselves from what the outside looks obvious.  After one such<br>discussion a husband looked at me and asked if I had been the same<br>way.  Yes, was my answer.<p>It's a tight line I walk sometimes with discussing drinking too much.<br>What is drinking too much?  When is it too much?  Where does the line<br>cross from 'something we all did when we were young' to over the top?<br>When speaking I have to tell the truth - the answers to questions like<br>the ones asked above have to be answered by the person who is asking<br>them.  Unfortunately there are no easy answers and no rules.  If only<br>there were a list to check off - hungover more than 3 times a week?<br>Blacking out more than once a month?  Counting down the hours until<br>5:00 when it's 'acceptable' to have a cocktail?  If only.<p>I sat down and discussed that when I was drinking my mind was not<br>really my own - that once the line was crossed it became harder and<br>harder to see the progression of my drinking and its impact and that<br>at some point it was impossible.  The husband told me that his wife<br>was a good mother.  A good friend.  Of course she is I said.  I told<br>him that women feel so much guilt and remorse about their drinking<br>that just making a decision that having a problem is the easy part -<br>the hard part is what to do about it.<p>So many questions.<br>Can't she just stop?<br>Can't she see that she's hurting the children?<br>Can't she see that I miss her at night?<p>The best that I could do was to help him understand that the problem<br>didn't start yesterday.  That it had been there for a while - even if<br>it wasn't evident.  I talked about how for me it wasn't something that<br>just went way like a bad case of the flu.  That it takes  time and<br>that truly it's never really 'done'.  My husband suggested that he try<br>and find someone to talk with so that he would have somewhere to vent<br>and to get support for himself - that helping himself wasn't selfish -<br>it was necessary.  So many things to fit into an hour - an hour was<br>just the start.<p>Just Stop.  Just Stop.<br>How I remember thinking that .... for years.<p>I bet she is too.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-31124999137170678912010-03-24T12:44:00.002-04:002010-03-24T21:08:38.440-04:00Because Clearly I Am Losing My MindI mean seriously? How do you top off a post about that nut known as Tila Tequila *which, just in case you are wondering what it does to your stats let me just say that a whole lot of people are searching for TT crazy stories these days*.<br />
<br />
I titled this post 'Because Clearly I Am Losing My Mind' because that is the only explanation I can use because of late I cannot remember anything for the life of me. ! I mean nothing. Phone numbers - gone in < 60 seconds. I cannot even remember a telephone number after I JUST LISTENED to the message! A couple of weeks ago I forgot that I drove to work and got on the train to go home. Luckily I only made it one stop before I had to turn around and go back. Let's just say that put total suckage into my anticipated early arrival home. <br />
<br />
And finally the one that makes my heart skip a beat and my stomach turn - I lost my iPhone. I know, I know, it's just a phone but I loved that little piece of hardware. I loved the app store, I loved the cute little icons, I loved the clear pictures and nice graphics. <br />
<br />
Don't pretend you guys don't have the same fetish because I KNOW YOU.<br />
<br />
So now I'm back to writing things down and carrying sticky notes like I'm a kindergartener and the teacher has to pin a note to my shirt that says, "I ride bus 7000". I always thought that was kinda cute but you<br />
know what? It's not so cute for a 42 year old. <br />
<br />
AND I have to get a new phone.<br />
A cheap phone.<br />
One that possibly won't even have - gasp here - internet access.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-9466819815963487452010-03-17T13:26:00.002-04:002010-03-17T20:20:34.631-04:00Tila Tequila Is A Mess - And Not A Hot OneTila Tequila is a mess.<br />
And not a hot one.<br />
<br />
If you are like me sometimes you just wander around the Twitter to see what else is out there. For me I have this secret life of watching the Kardashian sisters, Kim, Kourtney, and Khloe to be exact. It’s a guilty pleasure. I love me some Khloe! She just cracks me up every time. I’m also guilty of watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians for HOURS if it’s a marathon I haven’t seen before. This does not endear me to my husband though. Since I’m sure that the sisters are stumbling over themselves reading this let me take this minute to shout out the following: Kourtney, do what makes you happy but hopefully you’ll find more happiness with someone other than Scott. He’s just not nice. And my all time favorite – Miss Khloe. Don’t.Change.A.Thing. <o:p></o:p></p><br />
<br />
So getting back to how the Kardashians lead me to Tila… Somewhere between reading tweets by Kim and following down other rabbit holes I found Miss Tila. (Or then again she could be Mama T. Take your pick – depending on her personality of the day either of them could be right) And what a rabbit hole it turned out to be – it’s much like watching Alice In Wonderland only without Johnny Depp in a frightening orange hat. First we find out that Tila is bisexual. Then she’s not. Oh wait, she’s really a lesbian. Except when she wants to be pregnant – then she’s not. Oh wait, she already was pregnant but it was only a donor (procurement completed through the ‘old fashioned way’). But then…baby daddy wants to marry her – so maybe she really isn’t gay. Or maybe she is. She’s just not sure.<o:p></o:p></p><br />
She’s also not sure if she’s pregnant or not. In December she was wanting to be a surrogate for her brother and was undergoing some sort of bizarre IVF procedure – as in I never did really understand if it was her egg or her sister in law’s and lord knows who was the ‘donor’. The potential mixes are just too much for me to think through.<o:p></o:p></p><br />
<br />
In January the ‘love of her life’ Casey Johnson died. I think at that time she was a lesbian but it’s hard to tell because in late January she’s pregnant for sure and she’s gushing about what a ‘catch’ and how ‘beautiful’ the baby daddy is. I know that most of us are pretty sure who the father’s of our children are (I mean we can at least narrow it down to 1 or 2) but you know what? She’s really not so sure either too. First baby daddy is a war hero from Texas that was her childhood best friend. Next he was European. After that he was African American but not the war hero from Texas – he was a rapper. Oh but wait, he’s really not the rapper because the rapper gets all up in her face and calls her out on it. <o:p></o:p></p><br />
<br />
Tila stays pregnant until February when she magically goes from early in her first trimester to 13 weeks pregnant. Man, time flies when you are only sorta pregnant. I could recap the pregnancy but let’s just go forward to last week when we learn that she lost her pregnancy back in February when a chair hit her on the head (not sure how a dented head and a pregnancy loss go together considering how FAR AWAY the head is from the stomach. But I digress) and then went through an IVF round to become pregnant again. Now that she’s pregnant again she hasn’t ventured out yet into who is he donor – I guess it isn’t yet time to go down that hole. But guess what? Her IVF doctor is Dr. Danza…I mean Dr. Danrza. I know, I know, if I were writing big check to someone I would least know who to make it payable to.<o:p></o:p></p><br />
OH and did I mention that she is having twins? She’s sure, well except that according to her ‘due date’ of December 10 (plus minus 10 days) she’s really only been pregnant since like March 10<sup>th</sup> or so. I guess when you are crazy it’s easy to also be psychic. It’s all beginning to exhaust me. At this point I need something to take notes on so I can keep up. <br />
<br />
I’ve pretty much caught you up to date. Well, except for decisions that she wants to be in the spotlight, doesn’t want to be in the spotlight, is a media mogul or maybe just wants to sing and act. Signs acts to her ‘management company’ and then never talks about them again.<o:p></o:p></p><br />
If you care to join me in insanity you too can follow her at @tilaomg and read the insanity recaps at <a href="http://www.tilasrotspot.blogspot.com">www.tilasrotspot.blogspot.com</a><o:p></o:p></p>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-56911852572831439852010-02-26T18:24:00.001-05:002010-07-15T13:05:04.004-04:00Ever wonder how I got here????Thanks to Stefanie over at <a href="http://stefaniewildertaylor.com/">Baby On Bored</a> I'm telling my story. Come over and join in if you want. --MeSober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-19278100390845383822010-02-19T10:46:00.002-05:002010-02-19T10:48:05.797-05:00Celebrity Rehab – Season 3<span xmlns=''><p>I have become obsessed with Celebrity Rehab.<br /></p><p>Why?<br /></p><p>First of all it is a perfect view of rehab. Rehab is an exhausting, painful process. Discussing feelings and situations that you are afraid of and have been hiding for a lifetime takes *so* much out of you. Coming face to face with your family the first time sober is terrifying. The feelings they go through discussing their fears for you is painful. Unfortunately the rehab process sometimes takes multiple attempts before you've gotten everything out and are able to find a doctor that can really look objectively and look beyond the addiction to see what else could be the matter. I know that it did for me. Over and over I would tell the doctor out of my anxiety. I would tell them about my depression and about when I would I do things impulsively and they would just say that was my addiction. All the while I would see on my forms a bipolar diagnosis. No one ever took the time to refer me to a doctor that would help those feelings.<br /></p><p>Finally someone did and real rehab began. The doctor told me that becoming sober would be almost impossible without meds to help and would continue to be depressed, continue to wrap myself in my feelings and self medicate to calm the anxious feelings. <br /></p><p>I still can get mad that I was treated as a worthless alcoholic rather than someone who needed help over and above my addiction. <br /></p><p>I'm particularly interested this season of Celebrity Rehab in a couple of people:<br /></p><p>Mindy McCready - The amount of solidarity I feel for her is immense. I have so much empathy for losing custody of her child. She's someone that I *hope so much* makes it. She's worth it. I hope that she sees it too. I saw the article that was on ET Online and she looks great. <br /></p><p>Mike Starr - Mike's struggle with acceptance over the death of his friend is heartbreaking. This week's show showed though how the simple act of having someone whose opinion you value most tells him that she forgives him - that it wasn't his fault - that his friend would have wanted him to make the best of his life. I truly hope that this momentous event for him has made all the difference because he's worth it too. <br /></p><p>If you too are struggling with addiction I encourage you to find the help of someone known as addiction doctor. They specialize in not only helping you through your addiction but they also focus on some of the medical <em>why</em> of addiction. <br /></p><p>When I did I got sober.<br /></p><p>And it saved my life.</p></span>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-54865601600414613372010-02-11T13:37:00.002-05:002010-02-19T09:53:28.582-05:00Talking' Valentines With Girl Talk ThursdayI found this week's Girl Talk Thursday pretty interesting. I'm always<br />amazed that some people 'fight' for 'official' days to acknowledged and then until the next one they are satisfied and life is just all great<br />and happy - while receiving no acknowledgement at all. <p>So here goes my thought...<p>For me Valentine's Day has always been a 'whatever' day. I guess my 'Whatever' of Valentine's Day stems from this one simple thought.<br /><p>I would rather someone be nice to me on any random day than to pretend<br />or feel forced to be nice to me because the date on the calendar is<br />February 14th. <p>And you know what? <br />For the most part I get that.<br />So 'Whatever' it is.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-15223054743077609052010-02-01T16:58:00.005-05:002010-02-05T08:57:58.577-05:00Look, I just need my drugs and other random facts from my existenceI mean, how hard is it? <br /><br />Why is it that EVERY TIME I have to order from you Medco it is a nightmare. Not just any nightmare. A nightmare of EPIC proportions. I order one order and it comes in 1,2,3…87 shipments – it just depends on the number of scripts I request. For a company that professes to save you money I just don’t see how sending each d*mn one in its own individual UPS package saves us money. It would seem like it would make an awful lot of sense to…I dunno…fill the request, IN FULL, and then send it out? <br /><br />Trust me.<br />Sending each script INDIVIDUALLY through UPS ain’t cheap. Believe me, my husband works there.<br /><br />Medco – I just totally don’t get you. <br />And, I’m not sure I want to.<br /><br />And now, an update on the wee ones:<br />The wee one has made **3** pee pee’s in the potty. Woo Hoo! <br />The middle one is continuing to eek out the school year. I wish I could fast forward her to graduation. For her sake. And mine.<br />The oldest one has Freshman Festival coming up this Saturday for high school. We went to the ‘orientation’ for high school last week. Dude, high school is scary now. I’m glad that I don’t have to go.<br /><br />Anyone looking to support a new mommy who totally deserves it go to http://www.myjourneytomylesandbeyond.blogspot.com. <br /><br />And, last but not least, I get a new laptop for work soon. It can’t happen soon enough because my keyboard? <br /><br />It’s driving me crazy.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-4397441012036737662010-01-31T13:47:00.004-05:002010-01-31T14:06:02.610-05:00The Hardest 12 Steps - Step 1After being forced into taking that look into the mirror and honestly ask myself if I had a problem with alcohol I froze. I froze because I didn't *want* to come to the realization that I had a problem. I froze because frankly I wasn't sure what to do after I admitted it.<br /><br />I froze and ran. For 3 more very, very long years.<br /><br />The internets are abuzz lately with women admitting that they too might need to take that look in the mirror. In reading their tales I wonder who looked back at them when they looked into that mirror. <br /><br />Was it as it was for me a look of disgust bordering on hate? <br />Was it a look of acceptance, of relief? <br /><br />*What* did they see staring back at them? <br /><br />Part of recovery, whether or not an 'official' 2 step program is being followed, is coming to the acceptance that life as it is known right now, isn't working any longer. That just saying "NO" isn't working. That being 'in control' is beyond what is possible. Accepting defeat, moving past the denial on this first step sometimes takes a very very long time.<br /><br />In my head I know that the questions that I posted above have answers that aren't really needing to be answered - at least to me. <br /><br />But still, I wonder. <br /><br />I wonder if I'm alone with the way that I feel about myself.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-12396589804308637012010-01-28T16:09:00.004-05:002010-01-28T21:10:47.707-05:00How To NOT Work All Day**NOTE: This is a work of fiction.<br />***NOTE: In the interest of anyone actually entertaining any actual *thought* that I don't...you know...WORK. <p>In my 20403034 years of working I've determined that sometimes at WORK you have to give yourself a little time out. That's right, a time OUT. Otherwise you can find yourself explaining why you rolled your eyes while others were talking but weren't actually **saying** anything. Not that this happens to me. Well, it does but who's counting? <p>For me my time out involves trolling the interwebs. Where I work though there are APPROPRIATE and INAPPROPRIATE websites and those deemed "Inappropriate For Business Use" are of course all the fun ones so I'm forced to be more resourceful in my trolling. In all honesty though it would be so much easier to just allow Facebook at the office. I mean, unless you're addicted to Farmville or whatever it is. Then it probably wouldn't be. I guess that's why I don't run the office for appropriate vs. inappropriate. <p>Whatever. <p>When one enters into a NOT SAFE website you get an error. These errors instill fear in everyone. Needless to say, I go out of my way to avoid such encounters. <p>Until today. <p>Today I was over at <a href="http://www.mommyismoody.com/">http://www.mommyismoody.com/</a> and somehow wandered onto a link to a post titled: Being Bipolar Got Me Screwed...A Lot. Words cannot even fathom how fast I clicked that link. Of course I completely discarded the fact that it indicated it had been written for a s*x column. Of course I totally ignored the fact that I was **at work** and not **at home** where each of my keystrokes aren't being monitored. Of course. <p>TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATE <p>Not that I would look at anything like that at work. <p>Of course.</p>Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-57543517372951088902010-01-27T18:28:00.003-05:002010-01-27T18:34:04.679-05:00A Wordy WednesdayQ: What did the toilet say to the other toilet?<br />A: You look a little flushed.<br /><br />One pee on the potty down, thousands more to go.<br /><br />Yes, you read right one pee on the potty down for Anna Grace! <br />Hooray! <br /><br />One step closer towards no diapers means one step closer to more disposable income.<br />I'm totally getting a maid.<br /><br />Hurry up kid.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-23586913657163400222010-01-22T08:18:00.002-05:002010-01-22T08:30:45.026-05:00Disney World Is Fun....SortaDisney World is fun. Well, it's suppose to be fun until your feet feel like they may fall off.<br /><br />Last weekend I had to force my age. I had to admit that at 40...I mean 42 I can no longer hang with teenagers nor can I can hang out until 11:00 at Disney World nor can I (and this is the big one) walk around Disney World again, and again, and again untill 11:00 and then wake back up at 7:00 in the morning.<br /><br />If you haven't figured it out yet last weekend I, along with 6 other parents, took 40 teens to Disney World. To say that I am still exhausted is a gross understatement. Don't misunderstand, they are great teens - there was never a minute's issue with them. <br /><br />I'm just exhausted and my feet, they feel like they are going to fall off. <br />Still.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-8760184211560686402010-01-06T16:11:00.002-05:002010-01-06T16:16:11.631-05:00God, I am boring...Title says it all.<br /><br />I'm boring. I'm bored. I'm tired of not doing anything and not making any progress towards paying off the insurrountable amount of debt that I amassed during my crazy time. <br /><br />On the other hand I'm happy that my relationships are improving. I love my children. I'm grateful that I *have* the money to be bitching about the debt that I created and still pay the mortgage and utilities.<br /><br />Mostly though I'm tired of being boring.<br />I miss not having any friends.<br /><br />I'm gonna have to do something about that.<br />What? <br />I don't know. <br />But I gotta do something.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-75509860569600684152010-01-01T15:21:00.003-05:002010-01-01T15:32:53.738-05:00A New Year, A New MeHappy New Year!!<br /><br />If anyone is still out there reading, I'm still here..<br />Obviously not writing. But that is due for a change.<br /><br />I can't say that 2009 was a bad year unlike...say...2001-2004. <br /><br />What I can say is that 2009 was the year where some of my priorities came back in line with where they were suppose to be all along. Priorities that were shifted due to emotional stress, lack of time, and worst of all, personal stupidity. <br /><br />2009 was the year when I decided that I just had to be the person that I was - to stop hiding behind what I thought others wanted me to be or what others felt that I should be. To accept some of what I had not been able to accept (and note this is still a work in progress). In 2009 I found that, in a somewhat Sally Fieldish way, that **people really like me** - **they really do**.<br /><br />What will 2010 bring?<br /><br />I hope it brings more time with my family, a new friend or two, and more opportunities to help other women through recovery. Oh, and a slap on my hand for when I want to use commas because I'm dire need of slap.<br /><br />Will I succeed? Let's check back in a year and see.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735242340818595580.post-38462061832508806412009-12-06T13:32:00.004-05:002009-12-06T14:13:26.307-05:00Sunday - Blow By BlowDon't have teens or preteens yet. <br />A view inside:<br /><br />7:30 - Awake - not by choice. Thank goodness for the extra 30 minutes.<br />8:30 - Give up slumber option. Tired of being wallowed on for the past hour.<br />8:40 - Make sure all children are awake for church.<br />9:10 - Inspect what has been chosen for church attire - remind 10 year old AGAIN that it's winter.<br />9:11 - Argue with 10 yr old that there is no choice in changing clothes.<br />9:12 - Yell at 10 yr old to go upstairs - feel bad since it is, after all, SUNDAY.<br />9:15 - Inspect 13 yr old's choice. Find that it's jeans and.....a tee shirt (long sleeve though - BONUS).<br />9:16 - Debate in mind whether or not this is something that I want to argue about.<br />9:16:30 - Decide no.<br />9:17 - Get in truck and go to church.<br /><br />Bliss for one hour. I need it.<br /><br />10:30 - Begin to look for 13 yr old. WHY does she always disappear into the flowing masses?<br />10:45 - Find 13 yr old.<br />11:00 - Go to brunch. I'm so not cooking today.<br />12:00 - Grocery store adventure. Not fun.<br />12:50 - Home. Begin to put baby down for nap.<br /><br />Bliss for one hour.<br />Or not.<br /><br />1:25 - Find baby sitting up in bed. With my hat on her head. It looks something like this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uNblQMBW2A4/Sxv_VUeclOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/3x8DMiKCgD8/s1600-h/IMG_7244.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uNblQMBW2A4/Sxv_VUeclOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/3x8DMiKCgD8/s320/IMG_7244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412200118954530018" border="0" /></a>Oh yeah, it's adorable. It's just interrupting MY TIME.<br />1:35 - Try and get baby back to sleep.<br />1:36 - Give up.<br />2:00 - Take yr old to the mall.<br />2:02 - Fork out 20.00 - repeat to self: "She's gonna have to get a job. She's gonna have to get a job".<br />2:10 - Bake cookies, clean house, do some laundry.<br />4:30 - Pick up daughter from mall.<br />4:40 - Sit waiting for 13 yr old to re dress to go to Piano recital.<br />4:45 - Tell 10 yr old for the 10th time today, "Yes, you have to go and no, I don't care how boring it is for you."<br />5:45 - Exhausted from listening to piano, be happy to be going home.<br /><br />The rest of the night is spent feeding children, checking backpacks, flogging teens to put away their clothes and pick some out for tomorrow.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Until 13 yr old determines that the gym clothes, which I asked about Friday, really ARE dirty.</span><br /><br />10:00 - Go to bed. <br /><br />Decide I wouldn't have it any other way.Sober Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11677162465504146391noreply@blogger.com