Shit you guys.

It happened again. I went like a hundred days without writing a goddamn thing. It’s like I was busy getting married to the love of my life or something. And then maybe raising 4 babies with her. Oh. Yeah. That is what I was doing. Don’t you dare come at me with your, “I know this girl with 8 kids and 17 dogs and she writes every day” nonsense, ‘cuz I already know. And you already know I’m not the kind of blogger. But guess what, I’m tryin. Again.

Let’s recap, shall we?

In my absence I got to….

Legally, actually fucking marry my dream girl:

 

 

Have a few adventures:

 

Send these little ducks back to school:

 

Oh and I got ranked as one of the top 100 LGBT bloggers of 2017. I’ll try to actually blog to hold onto my title. 😉

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Pride Month

It’s weird, but I really do forget how recently I actually came out. This is only my second June to be completely out there living a super gay life. In 2015 I was separated from my ex-husband, and knew which direction I was headed, but most the world did not. Last year Terra and I did go on the Lake Coeur d’Alene Pride Cruise, went to Spokane Pride with my littles, and then went to Seattle Pride. We had only been together three months, but she asked me to go to Seattle Pride with her within our first couple of days talking to each other. I also moved in with her last June.

Last Pride Month (also referred to as “June” by straight people) I was still getting my bearings. I was adjusting to being so out. I was learning about Pride. I was mourning and yet anxious over Pulse. Hell, I was still getting to know Terra, figuring her out and deciphering her Pride style. At the events we attended, we were also watching out for ex gfs, balancing friends, meeting people, and otherwise just not fully engaged on ourselves.

This year is so different. We both know what we want and verbalize that to each other. We typically agree, but have no problems checking out whatever the other is interested in. if she wants to go to the Seattle Pride White Party and I want to raise a sign at the Dyke March, we’ll do both. And enjoy both. We had a blast at this year’s Pride Cruise on Lake Coeur d’Alene. It didn’t seem as packed at last year but I just really enjoy that event. We had glorious weather and it’s a fantastic kick-off to summer and Pride. Rainbows and sunshine and beer and friends out on the Lake, what could be better?!

My friend (and maid of honor!) Holly came up and joined us. She is the BEST at making sure to take lots and lots of pictures. I should be way better at it, but at least I have her. And she always ends up getting some good ones of Terra and me. They aren’t always posed, but she even buzzed on cheap beer and armed with just her phone, she captures the joy and love between us. Proof:pride cruise kisspride cruise laure and terrapride cruise 2017 2

Maybe this last one seems like an odd pick. We don’t even know we are being photographed, but that’s just it. We are just so into each other we aren’t even aware of Holl’s shenanigans. You can’t fully see our faces, but you can tell exactly how we are looking at each other. The way Terra has her hand on me just makes me swoon.

This last week it was Spokane Pride. You guys, we were supposed to march at the very front. I ruined that by losing my things and thus causing us to be completely late, but that’s my life. :/ We still made it to wander around and gay it up in not only Terra’s rainbow hair, but also my own. spokane pride

I’ll update you all as more Pride things come along, but just know this year, we are doing Pride exactly right and LOVING it. Happy Pride month. signoff

En-GAY-ged!

Maybe you noticed I jumped back in here and wrote some things and then popped back out again all stealthy-like. Maybe you didn’t, but let’s just assume you did. And then assume that you are so curious as to why. You probably thought it was because I had some big secret plan brewing and I didn’t wanna spill the news or any sort of little hint. You probably thought it was all I was really thinking about to the point that it was causing me to text, message and call people more than usual and also maybe incessantly stalk the USPS tracking feature. If you thought all that shiz, you win. You were completely right.Light up thenight at promwith me-.jpgOn New Year’s Eve 2016 just a bit before midnight, I asked my beautiful girlfriend to marry me. Spoiler alert: she said yes. Every moment up until that was a just a wee bit stressful. I’m not kidding folks, that shit is harder than it looks. And every single person who has ever done all that write-a-song, tell-a-whole-20-minute-story, profess-undying-love-with-original-poetry brand of proposing has my never ending admiration. I was so nervous even a week before the actual proposal that I am pretty sure I had to create flashcards just to remember the phrase, “Marry Me.” But let’s go back a bit, shall we?

Obviously, I’ve got it bad, real bad for this woman. I uprooted my kids, career, and home to be closer to her and start building a new life and family with her. That’s kinda big. I mean, maybe less big amongst lesbians (u-haul is a term afterall…) but bigger than that move is what’s happened since then.  Love, growth, my kind of perfection. The kind you just know is right. The children have bonded with each other and with us, the mamas. I want this life forever. This is the woman I want every single day for always.This is the woman I want every sing day, for.pngFor me, it hasn’t been any more complicated than that. I don’t need a ring, or paper or anything to tell her I love her, and I will tell her I love her every single day. But it’s nice. It’s nice to show I’m serious and make plans. It’s nice I’m able to forge a permanent life for us and the kids.

I’ve told her I wanted to marry her. I’ve “fake” proposed at least half a dozen times. Hell, I’ve even fake married her a few times. Every single time I’ve said any of that, I meant it. No matter how silly or sloppy or totally drunk.  She is my person and I meant it each time I said so in any such way. But that isn’t enough. As the woman of my dreams, what she deserves is a decent proposal with an actual ring. So before I continued on with my pattern of awkward, mediocre love words, I needed to make it right. I needed it to be real and make sure she knew it was real.

I’ve had my eye on a certain jewelry style for some time and months ago found a little etsy artist that seems to do it just right. I knew it would take a while to be made and shipped, so before I could blow any more money on Christmas gifts that the children would break before January, I went for it and hit “buy.” From that moment on it was almost all I could think of. I spent all my time trying to predict the arrival date to plan for the right day, reading proposal stories & idea articles, writing speeches, and even made a video to do the job.

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As the days slunk by, the more I began to panic. Nothing was good enough. Nothing. Not me, not any fucking proposal on the planet. Not the ring. Seriously nothing. She’s a goddamn dream. How the flying fuck was I ever supposed to ramble my meager attempts at romantic prose with some little rock on metal and convince her she should totally promise me eternity? Every idea was too lame, too obvious, too cheesy, or too something. All the while I knew that if I was this nervous now, there’s basically no way I’d ever be able  to stutter a sentence in any human language.

I had been communicating with several friends about my plans, including Joanne. She is Terra’s best friend, so her input was helpful. Based on the arrival date of the ring I decided that New Year’s Eve was definitely the day. Then that crazy woman went and made our NYE plans into a whole group affair. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a badass buncha lesbians, but seriously? This is one time that even the thought of the limelight was strangling me. At that point basically all bets were off. I was pretty certain I wasn’t even gonna survive this. Joanne and I finalized a plan for me to take Terra out on the beautiful Coeur d’Alene boardwalk. Joanne would stay far enough behind and take pictures as I did the whole, lovely thing in the moonlight. Sounds great, right? It would have been except for all the things I didn’t account for. The extra people that I really wasn’t sure I wanted to do it in front of, the fact that we spent all day at a ski resort and my little pretty was exhausted and we had to bust ass just to be dressed and make it to the dinner reservations 10 minutes late, or the fact that it was somewhere around 9 degrees out and Terra didn’t bring a coat or even a jacket. None of it was working for me.

After dinner and settled in at the bar, Joanne and I had a couple of quick team meetings and decided I’d wait until the champagne toast and drop it in her glass. It’d be pretty, simple, warm, AND classy AF. Guess what. None of that exactly panned out either. After an evening of perspiration and anxiety I seized a quiet moment just a bit after 11:30. When Joanne’s sister brought a third round of chocolate cake shots, I semi-sneakily dropped the rings into her shot glass. (I fully acknowledge that this method was less class AF than the champagne plan.)

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Chocolate cake shots are delicious. So delicious that even as a tiny shot, a girl may be inclined to slow down and savor them. Thank goddess Terra did just that and didn’t choke to death. She was taking baby sips and I swear she must have seen the rings at least 5 times. This did nothing to help my surging anxiety as I was certain she saw and just decided to ignore them. Like a subtle, “Nah, I’m good.” On that next sip she caught them, dropped them on the table and asked, “what’s this?” I told her that I loved her more than anything and that I was really hoping she’d marry me and love me forever. I’m not real sure exactly what was said after that. Some version of yes, some other words, and a whole lot of hugging, holding, and making out right through until midnight.

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It really wasn’t the grand, glorious gesture my fiancé deserves. Joanne didn’t get to video or take photos of the actual event, but we got some dark and blurry phone pics that I’ve made the best of. And I get to marry the woman of my dreams.

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Happy Holidays…

So ‘member that time (two days ago) when I said my life was just too perfect to even be  interesting enough to write about? What I meant really was that to me, it’s pretty effing perfect. I mean that my life has little to no stress or conflict and that I feel loved and love every single day. Let me assure you that what I did NOT mean is that I have all my shit together. I didn’t mean that my kids eat all local, non-gmo foods. I didn’t mean that I’m caught up on laundry. I didn’t mean that no one in the house ever pegs anyone else in the house right in the face with Nerf bullets. And I definitely didn’t mean that I’m always to work on time in starched clothes.

What I meant was that I high five my girlfriend when either of us comes up with a meal that ¾ of the children eat and it isn’t candy or microwaved popcorn. And that we have more than enough clothes to go a full week without desperately needing to wash everything, and that sometimes whatever we are enjoying doing is far more important than laundry. I meant that our kids are rowdy, playful, and kind of assholes, but they have a hell of a time together and sometimes that means Nerf wars in the house. And I meant that far more often than not, I would rather get 15 more minutes of snuggles and kisses in the morning than actually have my shit together and be ready for the day every day. That is what makes my life perfect.

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We yell, bicker, and lose our tempers. We make big ol’ messes, and forget that it’s chorus day or game day. We dance like maniacs, sing too loudly, and honestly a few of us have questionable hygiene. We get cavities & stitches, we miss the bus, and sometimes people lock themselves in the their rooms or get sent home from school. And this year when I had my heart set on Christmas cards from all of us, I didn’t have one single, non-Chuck-E-Cheese photo of our party of six.

Guess what. I did nothing more than upload a few facebook pics onto the Costco website and have them finalized and printed within hours. There was no professional photography. I didn’t spend hours personally creating the perfect, custom card, and then add on more hours designing a perfect holiday newsletter. It’s just us, being more happy than I thought possible.

Happy Holidays from the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse!  theellewordblog.com (1).png

 

Zombiez!

For most of my life I have lived in small towns. I mean until I was 14 or so I never even lived in a town larger than 4,000 population. For the past 10 years, the town I lived in was about 30,000 and by far the largest town I’d ever lived in. Especially if you counted the population of the adjoining town divided only by a river and state line.

Moving in with my girlfriend meant more than just moving in with her and her babies. It meant more than moving to a new house, a new town, and getting a new job. It’s been an entire lifestyle change. While our town’s population isn’t much higher than what I’m used to, when you add in all the adjoining cities, including where I work, I can basically say I’m doing that big city livin’.

I do things like check the traffic report. Seriously. Five o’clock traffic is apparently a real thing.But guess what else is real… So much else to explore and do with my girl! Almost every single weekend there has been some sort of concert or beer festival or wine tasting or god knows what else we’ve attended. You know I love pub crawls, apparently I super love themed, dress-up, pub crawls. I knew they existed. I didn’t expect to live in a place that hosted several all throughout the year. And I really never expected to have such a fun, cute girlfriend to dress up with a basically just kill it at said themed pub crawl. But here I am doing just that.

We knew pretty early on that we were so in on doing the whole Zombie Crawl thing, deciding on what kind of zombie to go as proved a bit more difficult. We went to at least 6 thrift shops sifting through wedding gowns planning to be zombie brides.

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In theory, the idea is bad ass. But it has been done a lot, and honestly, the concept of either Terra or I wearing dresses in cold and wind and wandering about a least a bit tipsy is just dumb. And if we are being really, REALLY honest, I think I just wanted my pretty girlfriend to be my bride. Even if a gross, bloody one.

In keeping with our no plan-plan approach to the weekends, we didn’t finalize our zombie-ness until the afternoon of the crawl. We found a couple of these beauties at Goodwill for $3.99 each and were totally sold.

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Here was our inspo:

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Girlfriend was in charge of bloodying everything and I was the shredder. There are loads of great zombification tutorials like this one here, but here are my biggest tips for taking your clothes all the way to zombieland.

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Seriously. The fine grate, pokey side of the cheese grater rocks. Mess that ish up!

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A quick trip to Walmart for plain hats, a Burger King logo cute right out of the coupons, hot glue, and more zombification later, we had matching hats.

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We kept our look wearable for all the walking and drinking and snacking and pulled it all off in a few short hours. zombie-1zombies