Am I a crazy stalker ex-girlfriend

Ah Facebook the magical porthole to the past. One click of the mouse and can you dig up long lost friends, family, and most importantly long lost loves. Okay so I have an obsession about looking up old boyfriends. Don't we all? I know usually not a good idea to find old lovers considering that I am a married mom and all. However, so far all of the old boyfriends that I have reconnected with have become my friends. One of them is even a regular reader of my blog. But this entry isn’t about the old boyfriend stories that have ended well. This isn’t even about the one who got away. This is about the one who got away and got a restraining order.


We all have the one big love, usually a bad love. That guy your friends and family hate, but you can’t resist. I had such a love. He was too handsome for my own good. He was a writer. He played the guitar and sang love songs to me. I was doomed from the startt. He was also in constant battle with his personal demons and could be dark and smolderingly gloomy. I was lost, foolish and had no self esteem. He was a bad boy and I was a moth in his flames. But that was over ten years ago, before I found Jesus, antidepressants, sugar free Cool Whip, and Dave.

Throughout the years I have wondered what happened to him. About six years ago I had just discovered Classmates.com and I looked up a lot of old friends and of course a few old boyfriends. I looked up my bad boy. I found his old high school and I found his profile. I didn’t want to contact him I was mostly just plain nosey. I wanted to be the proverbial fly on the wall and find out what he had been up too. Did he publish his novel? Was he married or had spent the last six years in a puddle of tears crying over loosing me? Seriously most of all I wanted to find a picture. I wanted to find out of if he was still as handsome as I remembered or if he has lost his hair and grown a huge pot belly. No such luck. No important info no pictures. I closed the site and didn’t think anything of it.

Until about a six months or a year later I was on the Classmates.com again and I looked him up to see if he had posted any pictures. I clicked on his old high school class and I didn’t find him. His profile had been deleted. But I found me! There was my profile! My profile was listed under his old high school! I had somehow added myself to his graduating high school class. When I saw my name there I screamed so loudly that my co-workers ran into my office. I told them of my blunder and then we all laughed until we had tears running down our faces. The only thing worse than stalking ex-boyfriends is getting caught stalking ex-boyfriends. I was sure that the poor guy had gone on the Classmates.com website saw my name added to his class, immediately removed his profile, and joined the witness protection program. With one click of the mouse I went from ex-girlfriend to crazy stalker ex-girlfriend. Seriously this was my most humiliating internet experiences of all time, my most scandalous disgraceful ex-boyfriend debacle of all time. So bad that it has taken me until recently to look up this guy again, this time on Facebook. I know I never learn but, I am just so nosey. I can’t help it.

What do you think? Am I a crazy stalker ex-girlfriend?

Down The Drain

I am still home with two sick kids. My escape was foiled my hope and dreams thwarted. To make matters worse I woke up today with chills wearing a ninety pound cement suit. I wanted to climb under the bed and die. But wait? What’s that? I hear the cry of a dying coyote? I think that the poor animal is being tortured. I hobble downstairs to see my son slamming his hands on helpless Legos sending their little corpses flying all over the playroom. He is still whaling.

“I couldn’t get the piece on my truck (insert primordial screaming here). So I had to smash it!”

I close the door and go into the kitchen in search of coffee. No coffee! But I do find Alice sitting naked except for her sparkling princess shoes. She is sitting at the kitchen table drawing on her stomach with a blue marker.

“Hi ya Momma. I draw on my belly!”

I grab the pen and throw it on top of the refrigerator and set my sites on making coffee. I didn’t have my health, my freedom, but darn it I would have my coffee. I open the coffee maker to see that Dave already measured out the coffee before he went to work. I quickly measured out the water and started to pour it into the coffee machine. When the counter top started to fill up with water I realized that Dave measured out the water this morning as well. I unplug the machine and dump it out over the sink. I watch the water along with my hopes and dreams for a happy stress free day swirl around and swash down the drain.

Home Sick

Help! I am trapped in a house with two sick children. I have been in confined in this Amityville house of horrors for two days. We had the party on Sunday and the kids held up well. Then they came home and imploded into a drippy pile of sickness.


I don’t mind taking care of sick kids. I am a mom. That’s what I do. I mind taking care of my sick kids who are too sick to go to school, yet well enough to fight. They have spent the last two days coughing, fighting, and trashing my house. I am planning my escape. I am going to go down in the basement then bust open the bulkhead and run screaming out into the backyard. I am going to scurry through the forest like a demented woodland creature and fight my way back to civilization and the outside world.

Wish me luck!

Happy Barf Day

I have survived the big double birthday party. As you know the kids were born three days and 3 years apart, or if you are a stickler two years, three hundred and sixty two days apart. I had been planning this YMCA Pirate and Princess spectacular for weeks. I planned for the invitations, the cakes, the food, the decorations, the guest list; I planned for everything except for the birthday boy and girl getting sick the day before. On Friday night they both seemed fine and dandy. However early Saturday morning my bed was compromised by both children. First Dylan came in to wake me up before the sun complaining of not being able to sleep. He then climbed in to bed with me making us both unable to sleep. I am a great sleeper, however when there is a sixty pound boy laying on top of me, or rolling on me, or kicking me, I have a much harder time falling asleep. After an hour or ten I gently nudged his foot off of my face and send him back to bed leaving the space vacant for at most a full minute before Alice jumps in. She must have been waiting with her ear to her bedroom door because right after Dylan’s bedroom door shut she was diving onto the bed between Dave and me. Alice is less of an acrobatic sleeper than Dylan and takes up much less space, however she is territorial and demands her fair share of bed space and covers. Yes, this usually leaves my teetering on the edge of the bed without blankets, but at least the three of us can fall asleep.

With the morning came grumpy lethargic children who refused to take off their pajamas and to leave the couch all morning. I had to go to work and left Nurse Daddy in charge. Nurse Daddy dressed them and took them to our friend’s kid’s birthday party where Dylan slept upstairs and Alice vomited all over their buffet. Needless to say he had a rough afternoon and evening. I had a happy afternoon and evening, well until I got home and learned that our family would never be invited anywhere ever again. Oh and need I mention that their own party was at one thirty the following afternoon.

The next day, today, I did made a tough decision about the party. You guessed it; I did what any responsible mom would do. I went to the pharmacy bought a ton of kid’s medicine pumped the kids up until their little tanks were full. What? I couldn’t cancel most of the guests were school friends and I didn’t even have their phone numbers. Plus I had thirty kids coming. I took a chance that the kids would bounce and they did. Success. By one thirty the kids seemed to feel much better. The party was a hit, No barf, no coughing, no listless bodies flung over furniture. They had a day of fun, fun, fun, and then home to crash in bed.