By Alexandra Levasseur

For some reason I've always felt like I had to be funny in order to post on here. I say "for some reason" like I don't know....I know exactly what my deal is. But that's for another post (but probably not;). I figure no one reads this anyway so what the fuck. Why not use it any which way I like. That's the point of these things, right? To get out....whatever? To brag about how beautiful your food prep skills are...to whine about how unfair and shitty your life is...to shock people in order to get a rise out of them...to be someone different than the person you are in reality??? Because in reality your food tastes like shit...your life is boring as all hell...and your inner demons keep you from developing a personality that lends itself to being ballsy enough to say what's really on your mind. This is MY blog, right? So, fuck it. I'll say what I want, when I want....yeah, I'm not that brave. I guess I'll say some things that I want to get out but in a semi tactful manner and at the appropriate time. Best I can do. As much as I love to cuss, I'm still Ms. Manners, through and through.

What's on my mind? Hmmm....well, for starters...why does love need to be difficult? If it isn't difficult, then is it even considered love? I've been with people that are very pleasant to be around but there was zero passion. On the other end of the spectrum are the people I've had such intense passion for that it is impossible to be with them without wanting to fucking kill them. Why can't there be both passion AND normalcy? Or maybe there can but I'm just not programed that way. How come I'm not? Maybe I'm just meant to be alone. That's my love conundrum.

Motherhood. It's Mother's Day and I feel like the prom queen that was voted to the throne by default simply because she was the only girl in the entire class. I don't feel like I deserve all this praise and adoration for a job I've fallen down on more times than I can count. My kids are lucky if their teeth get brushed twice a week. I maybe cook a hot mean once a week...the rest of the time it's grilled cheese and hot dogs. I let them stay up way too fucking late...I hide under the covers from them...I turn up the air purifier to drown out the coughing at night...I let them watch crap on tv that's sure to drop their IQ...I don't do friend birthday parties...cookie cake and take out is about all I can muster. I don't deserve the pedestal. Take it the fuck away. It just reminds me of what a horrible Momma I am. That's my Mother's Day conundrum.

My weight. I'm doing my best...that's a lie...I'm not at all even trying.

Life. The problem is I still feel adrift. I keep falling in love with people I can't have, not living up to my full Momma potential, and completely sabotaging my ability to get my body healthy. Repeated rut. Over and over. I'm not in a full on depression. The fog hasn't come, thank god. Like the beautiful woman in the painting, my eyes are closed but my head is above the water. I'm still clear headed and in charge. I work hard at being a teacher....that's about the only thing I put all my effort into. If I could take  just a smidge of that effort and spread that smidge evenly amongst the other aspects of my life, then I think everything would be alright. I'm not going to be perfect. I won't find the perfect love. I will never be the perfect Momma. I will ALWAYS love food so I don't think having a perfect body is something I even want. Consistent happiness. That's what I want. To feel content, not perfect. Just content....with a dash of passion.

I think I need to write more and think less. I'm going to try to do that.

Alice- The Part Time Good Choice Maker

   

     I've made an interesting introspective observation about my online activity choices and how they make me feel. Being on Facebook....well....I don't think I have to go into detail here. Pretty much makes me feel like Creepy McCreeperson every single time I loggon. 'Bout sums it up. I almost always experience these weird anxious butterflies when I'm on there. I feel like I'm missing something...or waiting for something....or late for something. Anyone who knows me knows full well that being late for anything is serious business in my world. Freaks me out. Cannot stand the thought of NOT being fuckin' early. Anyway, that's how facebook makes me feel and yet there I am...motherfuckin trolling along. That isn't a new realization, though.

     Now comes the precious new lightbulb. How do I feel when I'm on Pinterest? I hear a lot of people say they feel overwhelmed when they are on there and I can understand that. Pin after pin after pin of visual information. That could be too much for some people. Not me. When I get on Pinterest I immediately get this calming feeling. It covers me like a comfy cozy blanket. Huge fan of the visual stimuli, rightcheer!

     There isn't any jealousy/envy or competitiveness OR anxiousness involved in perusing Pinterest. See somethin' ya like, create a board, pin it.....and then keep on a pinnin'. I don't do it for anyone but myself....a lot like this here blog. My absolute favorite thing to find pins for is my "The House That Alice is Going to Build" board. Now that I've achieved my goal of finding a job (not only "a" job my the job of my dreams) I'm going to keep going until I have everything I've ever wanted. Pinterest allows me to put all those ideas in one beautiful spot-a folder containing lovely pictures of everything I could possibly want in my dream abode!

Yes, I wanna live in a barn. 

     I'm an optimist, not a moron. I know attaining this goal isn't going to be easy or fast. Luckily, on top of being an optimist and non-moron I'm an extreme procrastinator (kind of like an extreme hoarder only with less flies;). That means I can believe I will have my house as much as I want for a really really REALLY long time:D. Just thinking and planning by pinning the hours away makes me content.

     But planning my cabin/barn dream home in the woods isn't the only thing I think about when I'm on Pinterest. Pinterest has saved my teacher ass many times over. I can type in anything and come up with lesson plans and strategies galore! I can do this on google, of course, but Pinterest filters all the fuck ton of crappy lessons out of the bunch. Alls I gets is the good stuff, baby:). Let's see, what else.....food? Fuck yeah! DIY crafty shit? Yepper!!! Ideas for getting my 4 year old to stop whining?.....not as of yet but I'm not giving up hope. Why? Because I'm a motherfucking optimista and I believe in Pinterest! Kinda the way children believe in Santa:D. Actually, it does kinda feel like Christmas morning when I hit refresh and see 500 new pins to sift through:)

     Does this mean I'm going to give up Facebook? Probably not. However, the good news is I feel a nice little balance within the force. When I'm up late eyeballing someone's page and feeling ookier than a motherfucker I am comforted with the fact that I can shoot on over to Pinterest for my sin atonement. Instant balance. My creeper anxiety subsides and I'm once again knee deep in enticing photographs of indoor hammock swings and pithy posters of bored looking kittens proclaiming their hatred for Mondays. BALANCE...and good choices....with a little dab of trouble. That's me;)

When Dove Cries...because I prefer the parody over the real deal.

   

 I do things completely ass backwards most of the time...I also tend to do things half assed. Come to think of it I have no idea how I am able to accomplish anything. Anyway, true to form I watched the male Dove Experiment parody before I watched the real version (but I did watch it all the way through....so HA!). I'm not super sentimental nor do I have 50 billions hours of free time so I thought I'd skip the lady one without really missing anything fabulous. And I was right. Although it's beautiful and poignant, it didn't really tell me anything I didn't already know. I adored the Dove real body pictures where the women of all sizes posed naked much better.

Well, fuck. I coulda sworn they were nakies. Oh well. Still awesome. 

Anyway, I was watching the real version when Marco comes in and asks what I was watching. So I explained what the commercial was all about, which was really difficult to do in 10 words or less....that's about his attention span if there aren't drums or a laser light show involved. I cut to the chase when I saw the glazed look and simply said, "it is trying to imply that women don't see how beautiful they really are" to which he replied, "Or how ugly they really are". He was dead serious! I tried to explain it 2 more times and finally gave up. Before he left the room he put his arm around my shoulder and said "I get it...you know, you don't know how beautiful YOU are".

HUH!?!!?! I don't know why I'm surprised. He's Wayne Newton in a 9 year old's body. Full-o-charm. Last night he joined me outside for my nightly picnic dinner. We ate and talked and mocked Ari (the 4 year old) together...Ari has a radar on me that alerts him when I sit down or feel any joy what-so-ever. He gets the signal that I'm content and rushes to demand something, ANYTHING...as long as it requires me getting up or experiencing discomfort. Then and only then does he feels like he's done his job as a 4 year old. Anyway, even Ari's plot didn't harsh my mellow. It was still so sweet getting to hang out with Marco. I flashed forward 20 years to us hanging out on his back porch and mocking HIS 4 year old as we enjoyed a nice burger. My little bright white Wayne Newton:). Of course lil Wayne just got sent to bed at 7:00PM for sitting on his brother until he puked. Nah, still good:)

PS I almost put up a pictures of Wayne but upon closer inspection via google I decided....um...no. I kinda wanna say something about the scary factor but I think I'll just gracefully/awkwardly fade away............

All You Need

Excellent Thanksgiving, if I do say so myself.

It was just me and my boys this year. They don't eat my cooking so I decided just to do a turkey and some green beans. Perfection. I now know what I was doing wrong all those years. My turkeys were always either under cooked or over cooked. Here's the secret to making the best Thanksgiving turkey...are ya ready? Get a pencil...listening ears on??? OK....when it comes to making Thanksgiving dinner you only need to remember one thing- the turkey. That's it. Seriously, all you need is the fucking turkey. When you don't have all that other shit to distract you.....pies and casseroles and potatoes and blah blah blah....you can focus on the star of the show- the turkey. Make everyone else bring shit. I suck at multitasking. I own that fact.

So, the turkey was beautiful, the boys were AMAZINGLY well behaved, the weather was freakishly gorgeous (we spent a good 2 hours outside blowing bubbles!!!)...no complaints:). I even got to watch the damn parade. I can't remember the last time that happened. Admittedly, I've been a bit on the blue side lately but today I was all smiles. 

Turkey Day Montage Follows:

Weird Face

Scared/Suspicious/Stink Face 

"Hey, look! There's something amusing on the wall" Face

Us Face

Dinner- Turkey, green beans, and pie. All ya need:)

Thanksgiving slumber party in the living room!

Philosophical debate on why Meet the Robinsons does not have a plausible plot line.

Ari remained neutral on the matter.

 This little man takes the cake. All day he was an absolute dream. Everything we've gone through (and continue to go through, just not as often) and he finally seems to be at peace. Such a wonderful day and memory.

Happy Thanksgiving. Give us a smile. 

Marry Me, Kirsten!!!

Well, here I am. Single. Alone. Solo. Half a King size Twix (don't think about it...it makes sense, I promise). Married for 11 years. Divorced for 2. I am beginning again:).....:/. Fuck.


So, all my friends keep telling me (because they are too adorable to come right out and scream "THANKFUCKINGGOD I'M NOT YOU!") that I'm so lucky I have this time to really get to know ME. Explore. Celebrate being single! My darling best friend said these words to me today "even when you're lonely, the person you are alone with is you. Lucky." OK so it really is sweet because she's trying to imply that she thinks I'm awesome. But here's the thing....I've met me and I'm not really all that awesome. I mean yes, I can be amusing and charming for a couple of hours but really after that I ain't so great. 

In the spirit of not acting like a depressed asshole that spends hours stalking her ex-boyfriend's new gorgeous girlfriend on facebook, I decided to take last weekend and do a little catching up with myself. I wined (metaphorically speaking, of course, since I abhor wine) and dined (again, metaphorical.....unless you consider meals consisting of giant Symphony bars and string cheese to be a complete dining experience;) my bad self out the motherfucking wazoo. See, I charm. 

My first official solo outing was to the Christmas lighting on the square. At first it wasn't half bad. I moseyed around leisure like until I found a nice little bench in the shadows away from the crowd. Honestly, this was a difficult test. The aforementioned ex-boyfriend and I used to enjoy walking around the square and sillying it up amidst the magic lights. I thought finding a dark corner would be apropos given my recent inability to not sob at the drop of a hat. There I was, enjoying the moon and fantasizing about Kirsten Dunst eating bacon (I'm....not....joking). All was calm and then...all was bright. And I assure you, I am not speaking metaphorically now. I mean literally every inch of the square as well as every living being within a mile of the square were suddenly BRIGHT!

They did the count down to flip the lights on and for some reason it didn't occur to me that the lights were all around my happy ass. HELLO! Wondering where the horny depressed lady who is constantly checking her phone to see if someone, ANYONE has texted her currently resides? Why she's sitting over there on that glowing bench by the giant 500 watt bushes. Ya can't miss her! The first me date promptly ended. I ran home to my Symphony bar and Cupcake Wars.

I guess the point of this post is to announce that from henceforth I shall be reporting my adventures in dating.....myself. YAY!....again, fuck. 

P.S. I understand the whole "ya gotta love yourself before you can expect to love or be loved by others" adage and I fully intend to take this time to do yoga and "find myself" and all that crap but I'm telling you right now I draw the line at the mirror activity.

DANG! How is that the same little vampire shit from Interview With a Vampire??? I really need to knock it off with the apocalypse movies but Melancholia is one of my favorites....mainly because of this scene;). See, I enjoy life in my own way.

Boobies-Nature's Stress Ball

Well, it's been a while and I was hoping the next time I posted "things" would be better. The six year old is off of the old drugs and now onto a depressant. While he is no longer channeling Jack Nicholson in The Shining, he is far from being at peace. In a way I think we are right back where we started. Sorry to be a Debbie Downer but them's the brakes.

After all of my observations I have come to the conclusion that my little ADHD gremlin is mainly plagued by serious anxiety. The boy needs some coping skills. GOOD GOD, does he need coping skills ! He isn't able to focus on learning coping skills at the moment because his brain is so wackadoodled. I'm calling his doc on Monday to talk about his medication. Not much I can do about it this weekend so for now we will live our lives inside and away from.....everyone and everything. Yay! Jail's fun, y'all!

So let's talk a little bit about MY coping skills. I'm not going to lie and say I'm a walking copy of Dr. Spock but I have to admit I do try to keep my freak outs to a minimum. When an incident happens my mind instantly goes into hyper drive, trying to fix the problem (and in most cases problems) as fast as I can without someone getting kicked in the ear or pegged in the balls with a DS.

As soon as I think I have things under control I slip out of sight to commence with my super awesome genius coping strategy. I'm sure you know where I'm going with this. Candy. Twizzlers. M&Ms. Skittles. Twix. York's Peppermint. Hershey Bar. Kisses. REESE'S! It's SO awful and I know my body fucking hates me but I'm not joking when I say that it's either candy or alcohol.

On the few occasions where I've had a couple of yummy girly girl drinks I liked it. I liked it WAY too much. I make an effort not to drink more than once a week because I know it would become a problem. Me being large and in charge isn't going to hurt anyone. Me being drunk off my ass all the time would most certainly hurt everyone. Me and sugar- BMFFF.

I'm certain that the amount of stress I feel when I'm around my children during peak freak out time would fucking kill an elephant. Needless to say, the path from my house to the closest gas station (or as I call it "Candyland") is worn the fuck down, baby. I've gained 20 pounds this year. Believe me, I've tried to stop the gross eating but as long as I have 4 boys I don't think that will ever be possible. Besides, they like me "squishy". Being thin is overrated, anyway. One day I'm going to write a post that doesn't have anything to do with crazy children or candy. Do you believe me?

HERE'S JOHNNY!!!....Dang! Look at those teeth!

Why can't I have teeth like that? Oh yeah.....sugar:/