Now Rog, you know I am not a freak out kinda gal. I am very level headed, talk the psycho down, keep it all mellow and smooth kinda person. I would not still be alive if I wasn't because my ex would have slit my throat that day or Mike would have shot me, its as simple as that. I do not freak out. Its just not in my nature. However, I do have a point I reach where I see red. Where I get pushed so damn far that my temper takes over my brain and I do things like charge into fights with people twice my size or I just go a little berserk, but normally its almost impossible to make me reach that point. Only the little vato gang-banger that threatened my family has seen it in the last couple of years, and after the others pulled me away from him, it was all good, because it was a valid explosion. But apparently my teen son managed to push just the right buttons yesterday because I lost it. I didn't go after him, I didn't lay a hand on him. I did bounce my camera and glasses off the floor and I had to reset the door to my bedroom on its hinges,(at least I didn't jerk it off the frame like the one in Arizona), but I went into my room and I sat there listening to music until I calmed down, but I wanted to thrash the world around me. Now I understand why my mom used to beat the crap out of me so damn bad, teens will make you insane and she doesn't have the control I have or the training in how to manage the rage, so I was her favorite punching bag when I pushed her to that point. My son has my smart-assed attitude and sarcastic lip, but lucky for him he is a hell of a lot bigger than me and I vowed a long time ago to never be like my parents.
After I calmed down, I went back out to the living room and picked up my camera,(Canons are damn tough!)and my glasses and then I laid on the guilt. That seems to work well with him. I told him, "I dont normally freak out, raising my voice to be heard over all the commotion in the house is not freaking out, speaking sharply to you is not freaking out, what you saw there just a bit ago? That was a very mild stress out. If you had seen a full-fledged freak out of mine, things would be broken, and I would be most likely be in need of being held down. THAT is a freak out. Threaten my family, hurt my family, you get the freak out, piss me off, you just get what you saw."
I know you know what I am talking about with the whole temper thing, I remember the story about you clearing the bench at the football game that time where you took on half the damn team and it took 6 guys to hold you off. Temper much? Guess I get that from you, much like I get those little warning twinges in my chest that tell me to chill my ass out before I follow in your footsteps with a damn heart attack. So I did mellow out after that, we talked about it and I told him that he needed to realize that pictures were important to me because they are reminders of the ones we love, and sometimes when we lose the ones we love, thats all we have when the faces start to fade. I still dont have any pictures of you. Trina is supposed to go and try to swipe some from mom and dads for me. She said that they had all our family pictures just crammed in boxes under their bed, mixed up with all kinds of other crap and pictures of moms special friend "Lisa" (the chick that she wishes was her daughter instead of me), and her replacement granddaughter 'Little Jennifer", feel the resentment coming off of me there? Oh well you should, they are the ones who get the family trips to Disney Land and Hawaii and all the fun times while mine and Trina's kids get ignored. That bitch is on my parents bank accounts and all kinds of other crap. I just hope she is wanting to take care of them when they are old, because she is the favorite after all. Anyway, thus I digress, Trina said that pictures are just crammed in boxes with no rhyme or reason, so she is going to try to get me some of you and grandma and grandpa so I will have some. I finally have a picture of G, a friend was kind enough to send me one and it means so much to be able to see his face and remember him, young and vibrant and handsome. I wish he was smiling in the picture, because I remember he had the most beautiful smile, but at least I have the one picture of him to remind me that he lived, even if it was for a short time,and I loved him in only the way a girl in the throes of her very first crush could love.
So anyway, he cooperated for a little bit, though his idea of formal dress and my idea of formal dress are soo very different. I decided to just let him go with it. I had to be flexible because after all, Sis was not going to cooperate for hers at all unless Jackson was in them. Its going to be funny a decade or so from now when she out grows her crush on the young Mr.Rathbone, to show her all these pictures, including her school pictures, that have her with the stuffed monkey and remind her that she carried that thing with her almost everywhere and that it even had to be in family pictures. I will even remind her of the fit she threw when my friend refused to allow it to go to church with them. Sis had a full on melt down and had to be brought home early because she was afraid he was going to go to hell. Yeah, pictures are worth a 1000 words.
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