these boots are made for stomping

there is a part of me
that will always
love you

that is
until i can search it out
& stomp it
to death.

why yes, i have been doing my yoga…why do you ask?

my minions are in wisconsin with dusty & my heart is breaking & i am promising myself to cherish them every intense moment when i have them back once more in my clutches.

i had a promising conversation with an okcupid-er but the problem was he changed his profile age from 45 to 35 sometime between my messaging him & his messaging me back. when i asked he claimed to be 35…but then i read through all of his answers to the match questions, & he repeatedly referred to himself as being in his forties in the answers (which did not even ask for an age–yet he volunteered it over & over again.) so i politely–ever so politely–asked him about it…and never heard back from him again.

online dating is beyond weird.

in other news, buttercup, one of my two ewes, gave birth last night. i went out to dump water buckets (so no ice in the morning) at sunset, & she was not in the pasture with luke but in the sheep hut. this is not like her. so i went in to check & heard a baby bleating before i even saw the lamb. she went on to  have another lamb (twins!) i checked on her throughout the night because last time she gave birth, at dusk, i left her alone and then found a dead twin in the morning. she did fine. the night was nice and dark though. cold & windy.

IMG_0558 it amazes me how a newborn sheep can seem fine with this february weather. yikes. but so far so good. they are both active & happy today.
though i feel sad that the minions weren’t here to see the lambs born.
they should be here.
they belong here.
i miss my minions.

i don’t want to be alone.



playing with demons

invoking one demon
to do battle
‘gainst another
inviting a demon in
to drive another
it’s a tricky thing
to do
& is oddly
to see them tear
at each other
blood & gristle
claw & horn
pain that would
be yours
your demons share
with one another
when the smoke has cleared
you are still left
with one more demon
to banish.

aw crap. i called dusty to help. he came, & he helped. and my mom doted on him and said i never should have divorced him and she praised him while she defiled me. and he never stood up for me. he never confronted her until she spoke badly of him? of the minions? until he was grumpy & she was an inconvenience?

then they clashed. and battled. and i should not have enjoyed it…but i did.

in 2010, when i divorced him, my mom took him aside and told him, “it’s not your fault. she is difficult to live with” and he didn’t say anything. this past visit, there were multiple days of her talking about what an awful daughter i am.
and he said nothing.

so, yeah, a sad, sick part of me liked watching them scream at each other.

but now my parents are gone. we are left with no common enemy…just each other. and he has already projected that i am rejecting him.
now i am walking on eggshells not around my volatile parents but around my volatile ex-husband.


so i looked at this ink stain


and i did not draw a labia.
but then i was like, “lips are lips are lips.”
and drew the other set of lips one would find on a lady.

i am currently single and sexually inactive.

if you have read my blog, you  know what an incredible mess i am. today i had to sit my kids down and explain to them that my childhood was so fucked up that i have a lot of anger issues and that i feel really bad for being screamy and calling them “spoiled brats.” (not at all my finest moment…really really bad, in fact.) i tried to tell them that i had really bad role models. that my dad was physically & emotionally abusive. that i am trying–even when it seems i’m not. i’m trying to be a better mom. i get so angry when i feel like no one is listening. so angry. and you know what kids like to do? they like to not listen.
and my dad had us all doing chores from the age of five. like on a child labor level. and i don’t want to do that to my kids because it was awful. but then i get all pissed off when they don’t help me and say “no!” when i ask for help (hence the nasty name calling.)
and then my anger is intensified by the fact that i just spent the past 14 years with their dad who did the bare minimum…and had a bag of tricks for encouraging a person to not even ask him for help…
you know, like ignoring them…
or snapping at them…
or agreeing to help & then not…
until you got to the point where you just fell into a black hole of despair whenever you needed help. i mean, you can see the able-bodied man right there…but when he tells you you are “controlling” or “playing games” when you ask for help…you stop asking.
especially considering your parents did the same trick.
ignoring you when you asked for help.
ignoring you when you asked for attention.


so, yeah. i have anger issues.
and i know my kids are the last people on earth who deserve that anger…but they are right there. and kids are brilliant at provoking. that’s what kids do. yesterday my three year old dumped paint on the floor and then later in the same day, dumped pebbles all over the floor. it’s what kids do. they test their environment. they push the envelope. they learn by doing. poppy is excellent at being a three year old.

recently on facebook, some trolls got mad at me because i said i choose not to spank because being spanked only taught me to fear my parents and to not trust them. i said i want my kids to not be scared of me–i want them to come to me when they are scared.
and that upset some women?
i’m really not sure why?
i try to never judge another person’s parenting because parenting is so fucking hard with so many fucking decisions to make.
but they called me a “sensitive twit,” and started commenting things like, “let us know when your kids go to prison.”

there are studies that show that screaming at your kids is just as damaging. i think so anyway. i’m kind of pulling that out of my ass. but i think i read that somewhere. i think about that every time i lose it and scream at my kids.

but i’m not going to hit my kids. i’m not. as much as i want to sometimes when the anger is white hot inside of me and my eight year old has just pelted me with a bouncy ball after screaming, “i hate you.” i’m not going to hit him or grab him by the arm or physically hurt him in any way. i’m not going to spank a three year old for dumping out paint…but apparently i will scream at an eleven year old for not putting the paint away….

parenting is fucking hard. especially doing it alone. their dad gets mad when i call myself a single mom because he thinks that is insulting to him??? we have been divorced since 2010, but i am not allowed to say i am a “single mom.” of course,  i have felt like a single mom even when we were “together.” the other day he hadn’t called in a while, and i started fantasizing that he had died. fantasizing that i was free to live my life. fantasizing that i could find the kids a new dad that would show them how to be nice to the mom….
and then i felt disappointed when it turned out he was still alive.
i am an awful person sometimes.

i want to be better. i want to heal. i want to know what to do and to believe i am not fucking up my kids–constantly. every day i make it through without screaming, i mark it as a win. i hope i can move that bar up a little bit…one day?