On cloud zero….or….Fuck me (not the good kind)

Somewhere between Thursday and Friday my ticket for cloud nine got downgraded and no one told me. Not that it took too long to figure it out. And not that I shouldn’t have seen it coming.

Part of it is my fault.
When you plan to spend time with someone who has proven to be less than a qualified partner in crime in the past, what do you expect? Then there’s the EX factor and not only are you downgraded to cloud zero, but, zero’s all grey and full of thunder and lightning. Let’s review the downgrade in detail.


All day: happy, happy, happy.

Bedtime: happy, happy, happy.

10:44pm: Call from son who’s at dad’s for weekend. Hard time falling asleep. Talk him through it & then back to bed myself. Happy.


7am: alarm goes off. Hey, cool, still pretty happy.

7:15am: consider all the crap that needs to be done before I head out of town and decide to ignore it all and just drink my coffee for awhile.

8:00am: more coffee, write first blog post for dating mommies. Not a bad morning. Time for a smoke.

11:00am: avoiding getting ready for the weekend. Seems like a hassle.

11:20am: still avoiding. Now daydreaming about the blind date on Sunday and how I wish it was Sunday.

11:35am: maybe I’m not excited for tonight & tomorrow because I didn’t get enough sleep. Decide to take nap.

12:44pm: nap was fine. Lack of sleep was not the reason why I am not excited. Decide to go tan.

1:30pm: managed to drag a 10 minute tanning session into a nearly hour outing. Now there’s a time crunch and I feel inspired to actually pack.

1:45pm: debating on which bra and panties to save for Sunday.

2:50pm: finally ready to go. Head out to kennel to drop off dogs.

3:45pm: on my way. Still kind of thinking of staying home. Tell myself to get my groove on and turn up the music.

7:00pm: arrive at destination.

7:05pm: realize less than desirable partner in crime is already hung-over from the day’s drinking(note time please). Listen to whining about headache.

7:30pm: head over to his mothers to borrow a pan for the dinner he is going to make me. Watch whining take on new meaning now that
mommy’s present. Watch orders get barked out to mommy for water and medicine. I create large hole in my tongue from biting it so hard.

8:00pm: use my awesome mothering skills to talk us out of his mother’s house and on our way back home. But wait, have to stop and get his grocery shopping done first. (fuck me. i don’t like to do my own grocery shopping)

8:30pm: me and mr. hung-over arrive back at his place and he’s disappeared into the bathroom and I’m now making dinner.

Oops, backup 8:15ish: in checkout line at grocery store and cashier tells him, sorry, your card said insufficient funds. Starting to understand why his tummy hurts now too.

9:00pm: finally have a self-made sandwich in my stomach and at least I’m not hungry and cranky. Just cranky. But I am glad to be able to sit down on the sofa and watch some tv. I start thinking about how great tomorrow is going to be.

9:15pm: my son calls to say goodnight. We talk for a bit. He’s so sweet. I’m a lucky mom.

11:00pm: finish watching funny movie. I’m in a much better mood. Tired, ready to sleep – gotta get up early tomorrow.

11:02pm: wow, headache, tummy ache boy seems a little frisky for someone who has been too miserable to do anything promised all night.

11:03pm: saved by the bell – well, the phone. Son calls again. Can’t sleep. We talk for a bit. I give him suggestions, he’s gonna try


Midnight-2:30am: three more calls from insomniac son. We talk for a bit. I give him suggestions. He feels like discussing the why’s of the insomnia and of all of the solutions I offer and has clearly worked himself up to the point of no return. I wonder why his father is completely clueless. I remember that I’ve wondered that a million times before and never came up with a good answer, so it is futile to waste my time. I wonder if I’m ever going to get any sleep.

4:00am: mr. hungover decides to try to get frisky again. Seriously? Give it up. I’m tired and super fucking cranky at this point. Then I consider that if it was a guy I was totally in to, I would be thrilled as could be about getting it on. I consider the question: WHAT AM I DOING HERE? – and not in the philosophical sense.

4:04am: make decision that I am going home in the morning. I mean, later this morning.

7:30am: leave to return home. Less mom guilt about being away in case my son needs me, and great clarity from the WHAT AM I DOING HERE? discussion I had with myself at 4am are my major motivators.

11:11am: home sweet home. Fire up the computer. A little computer nerd time will cheer me up.

11:20am: read icky, somewhat psycho message on facebook from some girl who called me a bitch on my last trip to visit hungover loser. She explains WAY TOO MUCH information about her past with mr. hungover and explains to me how we could be great friends. I am so glad I’m home, but wondering which of the millions of settings for facebook I need to adjust to make it so she thinks I’m dead and doesn’t message me anymore.

11:25am: read email from ex-boyfriend. Now I’m just pissed. Seriously? Does everyone want to fuck with me today?

11:45am-3pm: try to nap, too pissed. Go out and run some errands.

3:00pm: son calls. Worried about being able to sleep tonight. Dad is mad at him for calling me. Dad is mad at him for emailing me. Dad “gives up” my son says. Sounds like “dad” to me. Clearly my son is telling the truth. My son asks to come home.

3:05-6:00pm: discussions with son, daddy of the year and new plans are made. Son will be coming home for one night to get caught up on sleep. I’m glad to be backin town. Totally made the right decision. But start to totally panic about how I’m going to keep working on developing a social life if the EX never takes the children during his parenting time. Take panic to the extreme. I cry, have a total pity party for myself about how this was supposed to be MY weekend full of fun and excitement and focused on me. Act like a two year old who’s popsicle fell on the sidewalk.

6:30-8:00pm: son comes home. I’ve got it back together, because that’s what moms do. He cries, and we talk. Conversation takes me to a
lecture (in a soft, loving way) on PERSPECTIVE. I start shaking my finger at myself in my head about the lecture and the irony. I remember that the universe brings you where you need to be. I realize that I was equally in need of the PERSPECTIVE lecture. PERSPECTIVE lecture gave me some much needed perspective. I gave son some things to consider. He cheered up. I signed us both up for 8:00pm lights out.

So here I am. It’s Sunday, I got 9 hours of sleep and woke up a little after 5am. It is a fresh day full of possibilities. My son is still sleeping away and getting some much needed rest. I’m at peace with myself and my decisions over the last couple of days. I’m not on cloud nine quite yet, but I’ve climbed back up to at least four. And with any luck on this blind date tonight, maybe a nine is not out of the question.


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