MIA

Obviously, I have been missing in action lately. Actually MIA might not be the right military related term. More like POW. I have definitely been feeling like a prisoner in my own life these days. Waging war on myself, my well being, my bank account... inanimate objects... pretty much anything I come in contact with.

As my last post suggests, things have, once again, taken a turn for the worst. So bear with me. Pray for me. Send me loves and encouragement. Thank you much.

On the bright side, my blog title finally makes sense again!


(Just a little eye candy! Cruz is going to be a blogger too!!!!)

In keeping with the poor-me-whiny-whiny-talk, I have a story to tell.

So I'm moving out of my apartment last saturday afternoon. Obviously it was already a bleak affair. A little bitter sweet to be honest. But, naturally, I was feeling pretty down on my luck. Things hadn't worked out at ALL like I planned. I was riddled (or is it ridden) with guilt for doing this to Cruz AGAIN. Even though I have always had the best of intention. I had to pack all the things I had just barely moved in. My relationship had completely deteriorated. But I never cried. It hurts less and less every time. Which is good...I guess. I would prefer not to have to say "every time" in reference to the demise of my relationship.

Anywhoooo

We're moving out. I get the boxes loaded and tear out of there as fast as my feet will carry me while burdened with baby and boxes. I get Cruz in, wave goodbye to my old life (tear) and drive out of the complex. Naturally, my heart is a little sad and I'm a little lost in thought, when all the sudden....my car sputters. I press the gas. Nothing. I'm slowing down. In traffic. It takes me a second to come to grips.

My f-ing car just died in the middle of traffic. During my attempt to drive away from my sad life. With my baby in the back seat. And my life in boxes. And my head in turmoil. And my stomach in knots.

COME. THE. FUCK. ON.

Luckily there was a driveway for a church building about 10 feet away. So I roll right into the driveway... only to realize that its more like a mini hill. I obviously didn't have the gas to power over it. I'm stuck on this little hill. I put the car in park and go to take my foot off the brake. We start rolling backwards. What? Isn't park supposed to make your car PARK. As in, not move anymore? Apparently not. So I put my emergency brake on and try again. No such luck. We roll a little more. F. F. F. F (I'm trying not to say the F word in front of Cruz) (But I am starting to spell it out loud because I don't even know if anyone could be mad if you heard a kid SPELLING the F word out loud. Hilarious).

So I'm stuck on a hill, with a dead car and my foot on the brake. I'm starting to panic. What if the brakes let out or something? If we rolled backwards Cruz would be in the direct line of fire. His carseat is strapped behind the passengers seat and that is precisely where oncoming traffic would plow into. F.U.C.K... So I make a risky decision. Seeing as I cant take my feet off the brake, I step down as hard as I can on the pedal and turn the top half of my body around so I am facing the backseat. I now have to stretch my upper body so that I can reach the carseat and unbuckle Cruz... without taking my feet of the brake pedal. I'm sweating. If I fuck up and my foot slips...I can't even think about the consequences. Cruz, of course, isn't making this any easier because he is freaking out (he HATES the carseat). Screaming, crying, squirming, the works. And carseats are a pain in the ass to unbuckle anyways.

After a minute of fumbling, I succeed to rescue Cruz from the perils of death. He proceeds to suck on the steering wheel, and everything is OK for a second.

I locate my phone and frantically call my brother. I try to articulate the problem while still keeping my feet on the brake and wrestling with Cruz, who has now decided to attempt to escape the entire ordeal through the window. I can't say I blame him.

After several more uncomfortable minutes of incessantly standing on the brakes (in hind sight, I probably didnt need to push so hard that I gave myself shin splints) my brother arrives with my dad and my sisters boyfriend. They push us to safety, evaluate things, conclude that I have just run out of gas (rookie move) and give us a lift to the gas station. I am ever thankful.

Needless to say, I couldn't get home and into bed fast enough. This day needed to be over.
Fortunately I made it there without further incidence. Thank God.

Things have been slightly better since the above ordeal, but not by much. I am doing my best to find joy in the good things, and breathe through the bad. I miss my old life more then I thought I would. But, it getting easier. Slowly.

And Then There Were Two...again

My heart is heavy tonight.
I sit surrounded by boxes full of my things.
Ready to be packed and moved away tomorrow.
To a new home.
And a new life.
Alone.
Again.

Worldless Wednesday

No words. Just a single picture. Enjoy

P.S I'm in love.

With a woman named Jenne Dunham. She is an amazingly talented photographer. And she was able to capture some breathtaking photos of Cruz.

Here's some sneak peaks:

She was so easy to work with. I felt totally comfortable with her, and thats saying a lot considering I HATE being in front of a camera.
She was totally patient. And though Cruz was less then enticed with the camera, she really took her time to set up fantastic shots and captivate him long enough to capture said shot.

I'm love love LUV-ING the sneak peeks and I absolutely cannot wait to see all of the photo's!

I can't say enough incredible things about Jenne or her work. Please check out her website here. And I thank you again and again Jenne, for these amazing keepsakes!

Stranger Danger

I CANNOT believe I forgot to post this story! I think I have been psychologically repressing it. Its less about the danger that strangers pose to me and more about the danger I pose to poor innocent strangers!

So, last week I hear a knock at the door. I don't know if its just me, but I dread answering the door when I'm not expecting someone. It's always that random salesperson and you have to do that awkward dance in the doorway while you try to act like there is something really important happening inside the house so that you can run away without totally blowing off said salesperson.

ANYWAY...

Cruz and I were home alone, Papa was at the gym, and I hear the dreaded knock. So I look through my little peep hole and see, to my astonishment, a surprisingly attractive young man. Imagine Seal without the scars. Unfortunately, I was not looking like Heidi Klum. Of course, I had just gotten out of the shower. My hair is a stringy mess, no makeup, wearing my maternity pajamas... not the image of excellence I hope to portray during these situations. But I open the door anyway, hoping my adorable son held strategically in front of my body will distract from my 3XL P.J's. As expected, he goes on to tell me that he is the coach for a soccer team of under privileged children and he is going door to door trying to raise enough money for uniforms.

Oh, COME ON! I'm thinking either A: I'm getting totally taken here, or B: Seriously, why is Mr. Perfect not wearing a wedding ring!!! Either way, I decided to donate the $10.00. Because I'm a total sucker. Every time.

So I set Cruz on the floor and bend down to find my checkbook. After a couple humiliating moments of rumbling around in my filthy diaper bag, I proceed to dump everything on the floor and retrieve the godforsaken checkbook. At this point, instead of standing up like a civilized human being and writing my check at the kitchen table, I take it one step further and remained on my knees while writing my check, on my knees, at the front door...????? I'm aware of how ludicrous I look the entire time, but for some reason I stay right there. At this point the Seal impersonator decides to kneel down as well... for who knows what reason. So were on the same level? I don't know. It was just getting more ridiculous as it went on.

So now we are both kneeling in my door way.

I INTERRUPT THIS POSTING TO REPORT BREAKING NEWS:

Cruz is in his crib for the first time EVER.

Alright, so he's obviously not sleeping in it, but just playing in it is a HUGE step in the Murphy household!

Back to the story.

I finally finish my check and drag myself back onto my feet and into a more dignified position. At which point he thanks me, offers me my candy as a "thank you" and bids me farewell.

Glad that I am through making a fool of myself, I walk to the bathroom to finish getting Cruz ready for bed. Upon arrival at the mirror I begin to take inventory of the damage that I have inflicted on the poor Seal Look-a-like with my less then desirable appearance.

Then I stopped dead.

There, in all its glory, is my ENTIRE right breast, hanging out of my shirt. Not just like a nipple slip, no, the WHOLE ENTIRE chi-chi!!!!!

ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME?!?

WXN&*&Y??@BFGCDHB IUYWQ*(&^EY??????

I quickly start trying to talk myself out of it. Trying to think of a way around the fact that I just had a five minute conversation with a stranger whilst exposing myself. That I crawled around on the floor while exposing myself! That I handed this person money while exposing myself!

I'm like a stripper in reverse. I paid someone to look at my lady lumps!

Seriously?

This can't be happening.

Double You. Tee. Eff.

There was no way around it. Why else would he have knelt with me on the ground?!

No questions asked, I flashed a perfect stranger. In the presence of my son. I think he may be scarred for life. I'm definitely scarred for life! I should have my mommy-license revoked. If I cant even keep track of my own extremities, how can I be responsible for keeping track of an entire person.

I don't even know what else to say, there's really no graceful way to end this story. I put on as many layers of clothes that I could stuff myself into, packed up my son and left as quick as I could.

Needless to say, Papa takes it upon himself to reference my reverse-stripping at any available opportunity.

And I still blush every time I walk through that doorway.