Thank you Chicken Jesus for Back to School.

I'm sighing.  I'm sitting in my comfy reading chair, in my room, and I'm sighing.  Finally, the annual First Day of School is over and I made it.  It's only 7:30pm, but it feels like 10.  I'm exhausted now...but I've been a little exhausted all day.

My day began at 6am.  This is an hour earlier than it usually begins, but at the time I'd actually like to get up in the morning.  I got a good 7 hours hours sleep, so with that, and a wake up call from C1, I got up on time.  I woke up Little Man (with much resistance) and had him get ready for school.  He rides his bike to and from this year, which is great.  He was out the door at 7am to go meet his friends.  I then promptly get in the shower, so I can get myself and Mini-Me ready...but not before my mother informed me that she was sobbing in the kitchen while Little Man was getting ready.  I quickly informed her that it was not a strange occurrence in this city for kids to ride their bikes to and from school on their own.  I crossed that hurdle when he was in the first grade.  No crying here, people...this chicken is a rock!  So, I get Mini-Me ready.  There is less drama in the morning this year because her new school has uniforms.  Thank you Chicken Jesus.  No more arguing endlessly over what she can and cannot wear to school.  We got ready on time and drama free.  There were some nerves, though...from both of us.  We headed down the street to the fiasco that was The First Day of School.  It was horrible.  There were parents everywhere.  There were double the parents, because there are two elementary schools right next door to each other.  After driving around endlessly, I find a place to park.  I then get screamed at by a pretentious bitch who works at the school adjoining my daughter's.  "This is a TURNING LANE!!!!  You CAN'T PARK HERE!!!"  Fine.  I'll just ignore the fact that 3 other cars are also parked in this so-called turning lane and move.  Finally, after weaving through crowds and making our way to the back of the school, we were able to find where Mini-Me lines up in the morning.  Spot 74.  But, hello....where's the freakin' teacher?  All the other teachers are out and meeting with the parents and kids.  Ours is nowhere to be seen.  She eventually comes waddling out to the line about 5 minutes before they are supposed to go in.  Said teacher looks like she's about to give birth on the blacktop next to the jungle gym.  I don't know if this is wrong, but I was slightly pissed.  The first thing that goes through my mind (ok..well the first thing was that she was extremely nice and I like her a lot) is that she is going to be on maternity leave.  Soon.  And who knows how long she's going to be gone?  Ugh.  Guess I'll be the annoyance that brings that up on "Get Acquainted" night.  I put a smile on my face, though.  I hugged Mini-Me, waved a million waves, and shouted for her to have a great day...then headed in to work.
I thought about how they were doing all day.  I was worried that Little Man would decide to break the rules and go to his friend's house after school, without waiting to make sure his sister got home from the bus.  I worried about whether Mini-Me would get on the right bus.  I got home and all was well.  Little Man was taking a snooze and Mini-Me was watching TV quietly.  The house wasn't chaos.  It was awesome.  I fear that this is only Day 1 exhaustion and eventually, there will be problems.  But that's just mother's intuition.

Turns out the kids had a great day at school.  Mini-Me wouldn't shut up about it, in fact.  Little Man was a little less willing to give over every single detail.  It was like questioning a criminal.  I was a little disappointed.  Until I went in my room to put away my purse.  There, on my bed, was the change from Little Man's lunch....and a brownie that he had bought for me.  I guess he was thinking about me today, too.
Am I crying?  What?  No!!!! I'm sweating from my eyes!!!  Shut your mouth!

Kids are freakin' crazy. That's all.

My kids are pretty cool, I must say.  At least I was just saying so on Facebook.  My soon to be 8 year old daughter has decided that she wants a sewing machine for her birthday.  She is super into fashion, watches Project Runway with me, and has decided she wants to make clothes.  I think that is so super cool.  I can't wait to help her, in fact.  I also found a place for her to take dance lessons.  It's time to get her into an activity, especially since her brother will be doing a lot more stuff now that he's in middle school.  She decided on Hip Hop.  Also super cool.  I have decided to take a Zumba class.  I swear.  If you don't know what it is - it's basically like a latin dance/exercise type thing.  It will be lots o' fun.

Kids also do the weirdest things.  It doesn't seem weird to them, but we as adults just look at them like they're completely insane.  Like tonight....just 5 minutes ago in fact.  I occasionally overhear Mini-Me playing pretend with her Barbies and stuffed animals.  If you have not ever had the opportunity to eavesdrop on a pretend play session, I highly suggest you do so.  The things they say are hilarious and most times you'll walk away laughing your ass off.  Other times, it really makes you realize how much the little bastards absorb - like when they are repeating an entire conversation that Mommy and friend had.  Or talking about things that are way over there level of actual comprehension - they are just repeating what they heard.  I'll admit I have a total potty mouth and my kids bust out with stuff they should not say a lot of the time.  My bad.  I've trained them not to say it in public.  So, anyway...I just happened to catch Mini-Me using my camera for a Barbie fashion photo shoot.  Yes, she is actually posing the Barbies and taking their pictures.  I thought it was the cutest thing I had ever seen.  Then I looked at the pictures.  I was looking at what could only be described at Doll Porn.  I couldn't stop laughing. I had to go get my mother and say "Look at this!".  Autumn doesn't get it.  She doesn't know why we're laughing at her pictures...but I had to share the fun.  Below are a few samples.

I think I might need a cigarette and a drink.

Chickens like things easy.

Maybe not all chickens, but this one does.  There is so much needless, useless drama in the world.  It's been creeping in to my coop and, plainly put, I'm freaking the fuck out.  Squawking with flying feathers and shit.  C1 is getting Complicated (that's right...complicated with a capitol c).  I was talking with Sailor Girl about this today.  She noticed that my most loyal Facebook stalker had taken a hiatus.  This is a good interpretation of the convo:

SG:  U and C1 have a blow out?

Chicken:  Bahahaha.  I let him know that he was being a bit of a stalker on FB.  But yes...we kinda did.  He is DRAMA.

SG:  Ya I noticed he wasn't posting every 2 seconds on ur comments.

Chicken:  I don't like drama.

SG:  Drama sucks.

Chicken:  I like easy.  My boy toys are easy. lol

SG:  I need a boy toy!  I'm sooooo horny...I mean lonely.

Chicken:  Admit it.  Own it.  I'm horny too :)

SG:  That's how it goes when guys are too good to be true.  The attention becomes overwhelming.  LOL ur funny.

Chicken:  It IS getting overwhelming.  Not to mention i'm just enjoying things as they come and he's thinking of the future.  lmao.  i sound like a dude!

SG:  It's ok!  I'm the same way!  Like Hawaii Guy was like I want u to be the mother of my children...and I think of things like what's for dinner.

Chicken:  EXACTLY! LOL

Then we go into the usual banter about how we need to spend more time together...

Which is totally true.  I'm liking Sailor Girl more and more.  She's my kind of people.  So, yeah...I had a realization today that I miss things being easy.  I miss having fun, having sex, no commitments, just spending time with someone you like and not expecting anything else.  Less drama filled conversations and less intensity...unless that intensity is in the bedroom.  That's probably why I always look forward to spending time with C2.  Come to think of it...I had this realization yesterday when E came to my office.  I could feel my face light up when he walked in.  We talked and he visited with my boss and the other ladies in the office.  He then stopped by my desk on his way out.  E said I didn't look like my happy self.  I half lied and said I just didn't want to be at work.  He then mouthed: "You wanna go home and fuck?"  Meaning, he's out and about and we could go back to my place.  My response: "Yeah. Kinda!"  A light bulb had gone off in my head.  I did want to...with him.  I missed him a little.  I didn't want to have anything else in my head but him and a couple of orgasms.  (brief intermission for the nice little scene playing in my mind)  But he left with his cute smile and I stayed at work to answer phones.  Bummer.

Then, low and behold, C3 calls me last night.  (I swear that man has ESP)  He asks if he could come over.  What?!  Come over?  Really?  Sure. Why not?  I got a little excited at that possibility, but turns out that he couldn't find someone to watch his kids.  Typical douche.  Get my hopes up, then backs out.

But, yes...in all that...I realized that I was getting a little nostalgic for the old me.  The one that made rash decisions, but had an awesome time doing it.  The totally cool chick that was not tied to a phone that asks what I'm doing every 5 minutes.  Or what I'm thinking.  Or why I'm thinking what I'm thinking. Or telling me it misses me.  It loves me.  It wishes I was there.  It can't stop thinking about me.  AAAAHHHH!  That phone is sure to get thrown.  Seriously.

Breathe.

I woke up this morning fairly early and did an affirmation.  I told myself, "I will think only of things that make me happy today."  Then I went back to sleep.  Somewhere in the midst of early morning, turning my alarm clock off, and waking up a little late, I dreamt of my ex.  These dreams affect me.  I wake up literally with my heart racing and my body shaking...from adrenaline.  From fear.  I owned a home.  For whatever reason, in my dream, he and I were still together I think.  I picked him up from a mental institution (which I've had to do before, in real life) and brought him home.  That night he drove an SUV through the house.  The next part of the dream that I remember is the next morning.  I woke up and was several hours late for work.  I'm frantically searching the house for the number to the doctor, so I can have them take him back, all the while trying not to let on that this is what I'm doing.  It might start something.  I can't leave the kids with him while I go to work.  I can't ask him where the number is and I know that he probably hid it.  I have to get away or get him to go away, but it's impossible.  I woke up thinking that I had overslept.  I was also afraid to leave my room, thinking that I might actually find him out there...that my dream was real.  That frightened feeling doesn't leave right away, you see.  I probably need therapy for this, but I hate talking about my feelings.  I never seem to be able to get out exactly how I feel or what I want to say.  So I breathe, just like I'm doing now.  I tell myself that I was brave enough to leave, that I am ok, and my children are safe.

So. Time to focus on me again.  I need to set some goals and actually work towards them. 
Random thought:  Tonight is the full moon and it's been a long time since I've done a ritual to celebrate and cleanse.  A release is needed.

Isn't this beautiful??

On a brighter note, I got the kiddos all registered for school.  We live in a different zone and I've been putting it off forever.  Finally got that crap over with.  Friday morning is Little Man's open house.  He's going into middle school.  We get to buy his gym clothes, find his locker, take a tour of his hall, and see all his classes.  This is a major milestone.  The first one since he started kindergarten, I think...other than the day he learned to ride a bike without training wheels.  His 11th birthday is also this Saturday.  *sniffs* My baby is growing up!
I have also picked my next tattoo.  Sailor Girl says that I'll be all ghetto fabulous.  Tattooed and Organic says that it will be "lovely".  I'm leaning towards the lovely side, but Sailor Girl didn't mean ghetto fabulous in a bad way.  I'm thoroughly excited.  It will probably be the last one I get this year.

Save the drama fo' yo mama.

He had me on speaker phone and didn't tell me right away.  He let his wife fly off the handle and scream at me over useless bullshit.  So I said she was a lunatic and I called him out on the fact that he was not being completely truthful with her.  I am not a liar.  I am done hiding things in relationships.  I am no longer going to bury my feelings and walk on eggshells, just to prevent her from getting upset.  But it may hurt him in the process...
I haven't been the one hiding things.  It's NOT a good idea that her and I are friends.  Us talking is not going to make him more open with her all of a sudden.  I'm not here to make her feel better about our relationship.  If she doesn't trust him, then she's not going to trust me.  Seeing how great I am and how much he cares for me is not going to make her feel better about herself.  It's only going to make her more paranoid.  Like an adult, I will compromise.

This is how he wants things to be for us:

I picture myself as the girl to the very left.  But I think she may just be acting happy.  Who the hell would be happy just leaning on their man, while he's holding the one that he really wants?  The girl in yellow is obviously ecstatic.  I mean...look at her...

This is how I see it:  

"I'm not going anywhere.", she says.  I realize this.  On a daily basis.

Chickens are easily startled.

I'm laughing in my head as I recall the events of this morning.  I was sleeping soundly...dreaming, if you will.  We'll just say I was dreaming about licking handsome men, but I don't really think I was.  I usually have completely off the wall dreams that not even Freud or Jung could interpret.  But I digress...

I was suddenly startled awake by literally what sounded like someone knocking over the furniture in my living room.  Or crashing through my patio door or something...either way it was loud and scary sounding.  I literally jumped out of bed and ran into the living room, yelling "What the HELL WAS THAT???".  My mother was already awake and ended up in the living room at the same time as I did.  She assured me that it was only my $200 painting falling off the wall, onto my side table, knocking down the family pictures I had scattered there.  She had to tell me this, because I could not see.  I was literally standing in my living room, no contacts, in my panties and a tank top, and hair all a mess.  It was 5:30am.  Blind and half-naked, I left the painting leaning against the wall to deal with later.  Hopefully, my children will not have put a hole in it by the time I get home from work.  As I scooted back to my bed, hoping to fall back asleep, I started to wonder...
"What if that had been a burglar?"  I always thought that I'd be the tough mom, who hears the slightest sound in her house, immediately knows it's a predator, and waits patiently in her room to cut their evil throats.  Obviously, I am not.  At the first sound, I'm running into the danger, blind as a bat, without any clothes on...just begging to be assaulted...or, goddess forbid, shot because I startled them worse than they startled me.  *sighs*  This is why I need a man in my house.  Maybe I'll just settle for a dog.

And I still have no idea why that painting fell off the wall...the heavy duty screws are still in place, waiting for the picture to be re-hung.  I should quite possibly be worrying about poltergeists instead of burglars.

Just how many roosters are IN that hen house?

Yeah....there's a few.  I'm single and I've definitely been known to do a little mingling.  I'm a chronic flirt!  I flirt with anyone, including some men in their 80's on occasion.

Technically, I suppose I am only seeing 2 men.  But there are others that pop in and out of my life as it suits them (Exactly. THEM.  They are your typical douche bags.  We all have them).  The whole situation makes me laugh sometimes.  I'm like the clown in the circus, juggling as many balls as she can (pun intended)...trying not to drop any and look like an idiot.  Simultaneous conversations over IM, texts all day, making sure you don't leave anyone to feel wanting or ignored.  Visions of Marty Maraschino from Grease enter my head.  Sandy asks her how she keeps up with all of her men, as she folds out a wallet full of pictures, and Marty replies that she's "hopelessly devoted to each and every one".  I like her.  We speak the same language.  I am absolutely devoted to each and every man in my life.  They are all special in their own way and each gives me something that I am looking for.

C1 is my love.  He's my romantic guy.  The one that constantly tells me he loves me, gives thoughtful presents, sends me flowers at work...the whole nine yards.  He calls me beautiful, writes poetry, and says the most amazingly heartfelt things.  He is also married and polyamorous ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyamory ).  His wife knows about our relationship and is okay with it (minus the occasional freak out wondering if he loves me more).  He lives in Louisiana with his wife, which means that we do not get to see each other often.  We just recently spent a romantic weekend in New Mexico.  We are constantly in communication with each other.  We are on Windows Live all day at work, he texts me at night, then wants to chat on Skype, followed up by a goodnight call to hear my voice.  He also used to call me in the morning as well, which was cute at first, but I had to break him of that.  Not only is he my romantic guy, he's also my needy one.  Sometimes it's minor and tolerable.  Other times, like this past weekend, it borders on comparing to a toddler that is screaming because his mommy won't hold him.  We're working on that.

C2 is my "grown up" relationship.  He has a house in Las Vegas (yes, he owns a home), but travels for work.  He is sometimes out of town for months on his jobs (like C1, C2 is a computer geek) and comes back to Las Vegas about 1 weekend a month. We are still new.  I like him though.  He makes me feel my age.  He makes me dinner, we converse about things like economy, then he pours me a glass of wine and he puts my legs in his lap as we talk some more.  He's secretly funny and sarcastic, which I like.  We already have our little inside jokes.  Our relationship is full of BBQs with his geek friends and other couples...and of course the sex is pretty great so far.  He's easy to be with.  He has no expectations and is confident that I like to spend time with him and he likes to spend time with me.  He lets me have my independence.  Things are going to progress slowly, but we're both wanting it that way.  He may be going to California next, which means that he will be in town more often...I'm excited about that possibility.

C3 is one of the douche bags.  He is also married, but his wife does not know about me.  He was briefly separated last year and we started seeing each other.  We are old friends that literally can't keep our hands off each other.  He is my kryptonite.  He touches me and my loins explode.  This is what our relationship is based on.  He is back with his wife now and I still get the occasional call to see him.  We try not to do this because of the literal magnetism that we feel for each other.  But occasionally, who can say no?  We still remain friends and mostly keep our conversations online.  I confide in him.  He seems to understand me and most of all, doesn't judge me and doesn't make our conversations into a therapy session where we spend the whole thing analyzing ourselves and each other.  He makes me laugh like hell.

E is the other douche.  I'm not sure I should even include him, but like I said...he still makes his presence known on occasion.  He is charismatic and charming.  He loves my ass and thinks I'm incredible (His words. I swear).  The sex is nothing short of amazing.  The things this guy can do with his hands and mouth should be outlawed, because the best things in life are always illegal.  He literally makes me melt.  Alas, E is not looking for a serious relationship.  E is looking to get laid and have fun.  I want more than that.

So this is my existence.  I balance them all, throwing one up in the air, then catching another.  Eventually, I fear that I will drop them all.  If not, then I suppose I have skills that I didn't even know I had.  "Oh my!  Have you seen that juggling chicken? She's awesome!!"
Next show is in about 15 minutes.  Step right up, people.  Step right up!

So, what did you learn today?

I am a firm believer in the fact that people really should learn something new every day.  We ask our children out of habit, "So, what did you learn today?"...expecting an answer, but knowing that the one we get will be, "Nothing" or "I don't know".  At least that is the general answer in my household...

The culmination of a week is almost here.  I've been a little emotional and edgy, possibly due to lack of sleep.  The lack of sleep is due to no other reason than I just stayed up late because I felt like it.  It's something I do occasionally.  Stress?  Onset of depression?  Who knows.  I think I just can't stand sleeping.  Regardless, I decided to ask MYSELF what I was learning.
So, what has the Chicken learned in the last couple of days?

1.  That my friends and I talk about male genatalia and sex more often than men talk about boobs.  Case in point:  my Facebook page.  Every so often (ok. more like a few times a week) my Facebook page is quite possibly something that would make any normal person blush.  Which I'm ok with.  It's funny, it's entertaining, and it's me.  Take it or leave it.  My Samantha a la Sex in the City statuses will make everyone take a second look and say to themselves, "Did she really just say that?"...and I love it.  Every woman should be able to express herself freely, even if it is about getting laid.

2.  That there are people who actually read toes, like others read palms.  I swear.  Toe Reading.

3.  That having my mother live with me for a short, undetermined amount of time is wearing on me more than I thought.  She just moved to Las Vegas to be closer to her grandchildren and is camped out in my daughter's room until she saves to get her own place.  She's working: PRO.  She's an alcoholic turned devout Christian: CON.  We'll get into that another time.  That subject needs it's own blog.

4.  That I miss my sister and having a relationship with her terribly.  I want her back in Las Vegas.  We'll have to skype more often.

These are few of many, but the fact that I am blogging while at work is cutting down on what I can list.

Random thought of the day:  I have roughly estimated that I probably spend about 2 hours a day repeating myself.  People who don't listen irk me.