Category Archives: Bald Lover

He’s in his 40s, he’s bald, and he’s the best thing that happened to me post 30s.

My husband? Oh – he makes magical meatloaf

I’m just going to take a few minutes here and brag on my husband, because not every post here has to be some emotional uncovering from the depths of my…wherever. When I started keeping a blog in 2006 it was seriously to chronical my life. Now it’s for that and because I’m an attention wh**e as my blogosphere bestie calls it.

Sunday we were all freaking stressed. Between Baldy’s pending neuro appointment, my pending cardiology appointment and the week of hell stemming from my 16 year old tornado, our house was just d.o.n.e being a family. No one was on speaking terms. And I really didn’t care for a minute.

Anyway, we hadn’t set down to a meal together without a fight in a good week and somehow the God’s spoke to Baldy and convinced him to be Martin Stewart and pull our family back together.

So I started smelling something in the kitchen but ignored it except for the occasional “when will dinner be ready?”

I think once I said “need me to help” – which I always say while sinking into the comfy couch begging inside that he say “no” because me in the kitchen? Mess.

I finally rounded the corner to catch this kind of kitchen action that made me giggle and think of the cafeteria lady back in Elementary school.

Bald Lover

And while I know you can’t tell what the heck is going on in this picture, the man is seriously stacking my potatoes on top of my meatloaf. Because we are so damn spoiled by his cooking that we can’t, you know, eat our food in separate bites.
When he was finished assembling the meal we were presented with Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy layered goodness, with a side of fresh green beans and told to sit, and eat.

And we did. It caused us to shake our head at him together, and giggle a little, and within a few minutes, we were all enjoying our dinner without worrying, without fighting, without the awkward silence that has fallen on us a few times over the past week.
Of course the tower of goodness eventually falls to a million pieces while you eat it, but for some reason it was the perfect thing to get our family re-connected.
The girls even mostly ate their mushrooms without a whole lot of begging, twisting of their faces or complaining.

And ever since? There has been no fighting, no tears, and very minor health related stress. I’m calling it the magic meatloaf.
Oh, and just to brag a little more on my husband? He didn’t leave me a mess to clean up, he cleaned it, and then I caught him CLEANING THE HOOD VENT. Not even kidding.


Brain Surgery…

I have to remember that he gave me permission to blog about this in hopes that someone, ANYONE would have experience with this type of surgery and would come forward and help us to make this hollowing decision. I have to remember that this is for his benefit, not his pity. That this is for advice, and information – that this isn’t about me, or about me telling you how bad it effking sucks.

Of all the awesome people in the world, he’s the number one awesome.

And I’m used to being sick.

I’m used to dealing with this shit. He is not. He shouldn’t have to. And this is too much. It’s just too damn much.

Brain surgery.

Arachnoid cyst in the pineal region – 2.1 cm. We’re in consultation with the Skull Base Institute in California, because It’s hard to trust any of the surgeons in OK to touch my sweet bald husband. Surgeons who admit to their lack of skill in this area. The doctor called him today to discuss his case. And sure, this doc has been on Ellen, Doctors, NBC, and a million other shows for his talent.


I know this is something we can deal with. I know he will come out the other side of this if we proceed with the removal. IF we proceed with the removal? The pain he’s in makes it impossible not to in so many ways.

They say where his is will be a difficult proceedure, they call it rare and “interesting” and “quite large”.

I just wish they’d shut up. And that it would all go away. And we could go on happily ever after without this “interesting” road bump of a life altering event.

I’m ready to wake up.

But I’ve been waiting to wake up from this nightmare for weeks, and he has for years. WHY WONT IT GO THE HELL AWAY?

So if you have experience with brain surgery, with arachnoid cysts or pineal cysts. Well. We could use it.

And prayers. Oh so many of those.

Wordless Wednesday

– Christmas Programs are as much a Christmas Staple as stockings and gift wrap 🙂



I was so very very late with the linky this week… like, its almost freaking thursday. Sorry.

On In-Laws

My Father-in-law is here. He’s been here for about a week. I work from home, so we’ve been spending a LOT of time together.

Now some might be waiting for me to begin complaining. First, I’m a big complainer anyway, and second, it’s an in-law,  but no. You won’t find me complaining.

Some might recall that the night Bald Lover and I met, his mother passed away. I never met her, and I really wish I could have changed things, not only for the selfish reasons of me wanting to meet her, but also because it’s his mommy, and who wants to lose their mom?

So I haven’t had any in-laws – and some might appreciate that.

Without vomitting up his personal life story, I’ll just say that Bald Lover just met his dad in April of this year. To see the two of them put the past behind them and build this new father-son relationship is nothing short of a miracle. To be honest, I walk on thin ice in fear that it’s too good to be true, but certainly it isn’t. They’re two short bald men who are nearly identical all the way down to their penmanship.

It’s good to finally see where my husband came from. Not ever having the opportunity to meet his mother, and much of his other family being non-blood related means that often I would wonder where he got certain characteristics from.
He cleans a lot, like his dad. He has a high arched foot, like his dad, he goes stir crazy and wants to be doing something, like his dad. He’s a lady’s man, like his dad…and now I know where the snoring comes from.

I feel fortunate to have an in-law. And I know he definitely isn’t complaining about having a daughter-in-law, as awesome as I am. So I’m thinking this might just work out.

Above all, Bald Lover is getting some down time with his pops, and I’m absolutely sure he’s not complaining about that.


{Wordless Wednesdays}

I’m thankful aunt Vanessa took this photo. I don’t deserve those kisses – yesterday’s post tells why.

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I suck, you know that, and still you’re here.

New Facebook Fan Page – Like it Here!

November 4th was my husbands 1 year anniversary with sobriety.
He was all ready to celebrate his hard work and dedication to making his life, our life better.
But I was not in the mood to celebrate. Sure, I told him “nice work” or whatever.
But that about summed it up.
He was ready to celebrate the choice he made a year ago to change his life before he died.
I was ready to be hateful all day as I recalled that a year ago was nothing for me to celebrate – home in a new town, alone, no way to pay the bills, no way to talk to him, and after the fight the previous night, I was pretty sure my marriage was over, and now he was thousands of miles away in rehab while the kids cried sure that their life was crumbling once again.
It’s not a day I wanted to celebrate.
And since he’s been back, he’s been gone 3-4 nights a week “rehabbing” rendering me a widow to recovery.

This is where if I had a best friend she might say something like “You bitter old bitch, self centered much?”

Really Brandy?

I feel so guilty it’s hard to even type this out.

In the past year his life change has been overwhelmingly noticable. If you can’t tell it’s changed him on the inside by his calm, patient demeanor, his loving ways, his dedication to the program, his prayers, then you can tell it on the outside, his eyes are brighter, white and not yellow, his gaze isn’t distant, his skin is healthy, he’s made a 100% life change.

It’s not about the fact that we had to reach the very mucky bottom of our relationship before it made the turn, it’s not about what we had to go through, or the things we said to each other or all the hurt that was wrapped up in that stupid beer bottle – that’s not what he was celebrating.
It’s about the fact that even at the lowest of lows, he had the strength and the determination to pull himself away from his grim future and that I chose to stick around and support him.

It’s time to get the hell over it, Brandy.

So today, four days after his soberversary, I’m admitting my ignorance, begging his forgiveness for my resentful ways. Realizing I missed out on one of the best reasons to celebrate that we may have ever had together.

Bald Lover, you are my rock.

Happy one year, and four days.

I suck, you know that, and still you’re here.

Bye-Bye Mama…


Mother and Son share a peaceful fall discussion. Used with permission of Bald Lover.



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