Dear Roger: The Year Of Lost Resolve, and Many Other Lost Things

I have not written anything of substance since March. Yes, I have blogged and worked over stories that I wrote in past years and I did actually publish 3 books, and I have one that is primed to come out any time, as well as one that is in revision, but when it comes to creating a new adventure or tale, or even completing the one that is in progress? I have vapor locked.
It is a miserable place to be and I have struggled with what to do about it. I re-read the one story, and it just makes me sad. I love the two main characters and like many of my readers I want them to have a happy ending, I want them to end up together, safe and happy and able to be with each other, but for some reason my muse keeps pointing me in the other direction, and in a fit of frustration and angst not unlike many other artistic hissy fits I have had in the past, I even wrote an ending that was very, very dark. I delved in to the deepest misery that comes of a broken and betrayed heart and I had it end in a murder/suicide. The way this past year has gone, if not for friends of mine who are very invested in the characters and the story, I would have gone with that ending and then regretted it.
I hate not writing. It puts me in a bad place mentally and I am not quite sure how to get myself out of it. I am very determined to finish the story because that is what I do, I finish what I started and the fact I have left people hanging for over 8 months deeply embarrasses me and makes me feel like a flake, something I strive hard to avoid, I am not some punk ass kid that just flits from project to project when I get bored. I am more like a long campaigner, I dig in for the long haul and stick in til the end, even if it drives me nuts.
This new year should start off a lot better. The crazy is settling down with a lot of changes for the good with my work, (problems leaving), and hopefully I will continue to just gain skills and responsibilities. We are considering moving to Seattle in the summer or maybe to the downtown Portland area.
My eldest son is leaving traditional high school for an early college entry/job training program. Im done battling him over his attendance and study habits. The stress was making me sick and since he is 17 he is capable of making some choices on his own. I need to focus on finding out what is going on with me, why I keep losing weight and getting sick, and fighting with him all the time is not going to help that happen, so I let him choose what he was going to do.
I have 3 other kids I have to worry about and support on my own, so that is what I am going to focus on.
My little girl is growing up and sometimes I think its too damn fast. Her monkey stays home an awful lot nowadays and while she made a little video birthday card for Jackson, when she saw some tweets of his she didn't understand and she perceived to be kinda mean towards someone she likes and is weirdly protective towards,(most women are for some reason), she got upset and offended and hasn't had much to say about things since. Im  going to sit down with her soon and have an abbreviated TALK, she has been more emotional lately, angering easily, lots of door slamming and then bummed out for no reason. She has asked to get her ears pierced and maybe it will happen, maybe not, but we will talk about and I will see if i can slow things down a little.
I have one son that is a grown man, another son in the throes of puberty, one just entering it and a daughter who is of indeterminate status trying to deal with all of it and who currently thinks all men are, "Stupid, unreliable and mean!" so maybe its time to try and find someone who sets the bar a little higher and acts more manlike? I havent really, genuinely tried dating because I didnt want the hassle and honestly where I live and work the pickings are slim, but maybe this is the year to relocate and reconsider the value of a great many things in our lives.
I need to get back to writing, I need to find where I lost my way and I dont know if a geographical fix will help but its up for consideration.

Dear Roger: Changing of The Guard

I've been pretty damn busy lately, between work and kids and trying to convince my pup,"Benny" that the bathroom is not where he is supposed to do his business as well, I have hardly had time to put two thoughts together in my head, much less down on my blog or for one of my books.
My muse is still pretty evasive and though he has been kicking around at the outer edges of my mind for one of my stories, the ending would be brutal and I am sure one of my friends would find it in herself to come all the way from the Carolinas just to stomp a mud hole in my ass if I finished it the way he is guiding me currently.
My kids had a pretty decent Christmas. Thank God for good friends and a gift card from my folks because my job boned me hard. I put in 93 hours this month dealing with all kinds of crazy bullshit from my stalker who is convinced I am out to get her when in all actuality I have done nothing but pretend she does not exist for the last few months, cops on the property almost every stinking week and just one fiasco after another including death threats from crazy crackheads. The one break in the month was a glorious weekend in Seattle courtesy of a wonderful friend and if there is anyway in Gods green earth possible, we will be moving there this summer. After the whole, "The company is going to monthly payroll and oh, by the way its effective now so that means you aren't getting paid all of December", thing, everyone is ready to jump ship and head for greener pastures.
Daughter is especially excited about the possibility of a move, she loved Seattle and the Capitol Hill area, she really likes my friend who lives there, so the chance to move someplace where there is a thriving art and cultural environment would be good for all of us, but mainly getting out of the suburbs and where we are now is going to be important. We love our boys that come over for Walking Dead night, and we have some great neighbors, but we have all been discussing that its maybe time for some major changes in many ways.
Stevie was on twitter the other night when her favorite boy started tweeting out a little story with visual aids. I was half-assed paying attention because I had been tumblr blogging some pics for a friend when I noticed her face looked a bit stressed so I looked at what he was doing a little more closely. Stevie asked me,"Is he being mean? Why would he be being mean? Thats not very nice." I honestly couldn't tell her. It sure looked like it initially and she put down the computer and just left the room to go read a book.
First time ever I have heard doubt in her voice when it come to him. First time I have ever seen disappointment in her eyes related to him. Shes got a very tender heart and she knows even giants can be brought down when their hearts are hurt and she was and is truly upset. I haven't really touched the subject with her again.
I'm not sure what to say as I don't know what to think and I'm honestly just pretty much done at this point. She is growing up and things that have been absent from her life for this past year are starting to fade, even her father has realized that while she is his daughter, she is a very independent and  strong girl who has a hard edge in a lot of ways and a snark to her that comes from being let down by men she looked up to, and that edge just got a little harder and sharper. She finally left her church this past month over a moral issue and I have a feeling that I am raising a child that will stand up for what she feels is right and for others, even when it breaks her own heart, that both makes me proud and scares me to death.

Dear Roger: Lucky

Yesterday was one of those days. I worked all day long in the office, screwing around building a new webpage for the company that will probably go ignored and unappreciated by the corporate schlubs, and underutilized as well by the masses, but its a sort of living when they actually pay me. It was all in all a pretty boring day of dealing with tech issues, and phone interruptions, residents needing weird crap and watching it rain as well as just generally trying to keep warm in an office that is always cold and trying to ignore the fact I needed to pee because that would have meant I would have had to log out of the computer, locked up the office and gone home due to there being no bathroom, (just not worth it), though the issue about got handled when the big boss called for some reason or another looking for my immediate supervisor and when I went to get her number out of my Iphone I managed to take the music off of mute right at the height of,"Reapers" chorus and,"Free the beast!" was blasted into his ears just before I dropped both phones. It was a great moment for me.
It would have been an average day for me except for the fact that Stickyman was off at the mall with his SPED class for the day. I am not a fan of him going to places like that without me, but then I am a control freak who thinks that no one takes care of my kid as good as I do, so I dwell and worry about him constantly when he is gone. I don't get news or radio in my office and my twitter feed there is limited, so I didn't know anything had gone down until I got home after 4pm. I walked through the door of my house and found my eldest son parked in front of the tv looking like he had seen a ghost. The news was talking about a masked gunman who had walked into the Clackamas Mall and started shooting...the mall my son and his SPED class had gone to for the day.
It didn't even register with me at first that I had walked past his backpack when I got home, all I knew is I had to see my baby and make sure he was okay. I was on the verge of a full on freak out when he came wandering into the room in his green Roca wear boxers and said,"Where the hell is my dang Ipad?WOMAN!" I grabbed him and hugged him, and yeah, I was already crying because by then we were hearing that two were dead and possibly as many as 7 injured. He didn't understand what was going on, hes pretty oblivious to most stuff like that and could care less. Hes pretty focused on his Ipad, his pipe cleaners and harassing his sister, so unless it involves those things, Sticky doesn't get involved. I'm kinda glad about that and wish I could be the same way. I spent all last night having,"Worst case scenario" nightmares.  The world is a scary place and there are days I just wish I could keep my kids wrapped up safe and secure at home. I didn't get a call from his school or anyone about what had gone on, where they were when it went down or what time they left the mall or anything. I got my kid home safe and sound and in the end that is all that matters. I don't know how Sticky would have reacted in that situation, like I said hes a fairly oblivious, lives in his own head, kinda guy. Stubby is very much a, " If there is a monster in the house I'm jumping out the window and you are on your own" excellent sense of self-preservation kind of kid. He has no plans to be a hero, but my other two kids? Those are the two who scare the hell out of me. My eldest son and my baby girl are the,"Run towards the sounds of the gunshots and see who needs rescue" kind of people and while I understand and I know where it comes from, It scares the living hell out of me. The one thing going for them is that lucky streak this family seems to have, I just hope it keeps on keeping on.

Dear Roger: Monkey Grows Up?

She finally went and did it, my baby girl went and talked me into letting her get her haircut and oh boy did she ever get it cut! She had more than a foot cut off and yeah, I stood there and cried like a baby when they did it. For her entire life I had taken care of her hair, I had made sure to give her what I had never had, a chance to have the long, flowing, curly hair that little girls should be able to enjoy. Mine had been buzzed off when I was very young because it was too much of a pain in the ass for my mother to deal with at the time and I guess it remained that way throughout my youth. I have had long hair off and on as an adult, but it just seems to be more of a pain for me to deal with because I never learned what to do with it or how to style it. I didn't want that for my daughter. Her hair reached her butt and it was curly and thick and beautiful. She was very proud to donate her hair to locks of love so a child in need of hair could hopefully use it and now she plans to go back every November 30th and donate it again. She has a very giving spirit and she has gone through her closet and sorted out all her clothes that she has outgrown and that are in good shape for donation, and she even gathered up all her toys for the less fortunate. She knows that even when things are tough for us, things could be worse.
I got pretty stressed out and angry this past week when I found out that the company I work for had decided to make the transition to monthly payroll effective THIS month of all months, and due to a clerical error, I would not be getting my November 30th paycheck, and because I am less than a 30hour a week employee and not eligible for any benefits, I am also NOT eligible for the mid-month draw, so I will not be getting a paycheck until JANUARY 2nd, so we are facing all of December with no paycheck. Yeah, the rent is paid, but as a single mom with four kids who was counting on her paycheck to buy Christmas for her kids, its really hard to not refer to the corporate office as,"Grinch Central". I just told the kids the truth, they shrugged and said,"Meh...its big business, what can you do?" Stevie wants to kick my big boss in the shins, but other than that we are a pretty much roll with the blows kind of crew. We have been there, done that and we know it could all be soo damn much worse. I just have been feeling like crud lately because Ive been sick and this didn't help matters much.
Looks like we may have a game plan to get the anemia under control and I am now on a weekly shot protocol with a nurse who apparently finds it amusing to stick Bugs Bunny bandaids on my butt. The issue is now to deal with the ongoing stomach pain and lack of appetite I have been dealing with over the past few months. It had been intermittent, and as such, I had been able to pretty much ignore it, but a little over a week ago it landed on me like a ton of bricks and it was all I could do to keep the boy from calling a damn ambulance on me. That would have been embarrassing as all hell. I fought him off with a promise I would call a doctor and go in, and eventually, when I got unbearable, I did. I have an ultrasound on Friday to see what the hell is going on. It has to suck pretty bad if I am actually taking Aleve to take the edge off because I don't take pain killers. I hope like hell they don't decide to cut on me because I don't take narcotics at all and the last time I got cut on and had to deal afterwards it was hard as hell to keep my focus and keep the pain down through meditation with kids asking me every 5 minutes,"Are you sure you don't need something?" I love them dearly, but they freak out waay to easy.
Daughter is the one I hope will be my calm voice of reason through everything. She is developing quite the attitude and strength of character and I am proud of her every single day, she can be a handful, but I can see she is no longer my baby girl, she is quite the young lady who has changed soo very, very much and come so very far.

Dear Roger: Isnt That A Shot In The Ass?

My butt hurts. Its not for any fun or particularly pervy reason, but its because I have had to start getting huge shots in the ass of B-12. I got this little bit of surprise called into me when I was headed back home from my appointment with my new PTSD counselor,(yes, its been kinda a rough month or so), and I had to voluntarily turn around and walk back to my doctors office knowing I was going to be getting a big ole shot that was going to feel like I was getting kicked in the ass by a Kentucky mule!
I did it, and I actually tried to talk the nurse into putting it in my arm, but she squeezed my arm and laughed at me saying that I didn't have enough muscle mass left in my arm for that, and in fact, I almost didn't have enough ass for the shot! I have to go back every single day this week for the same type of shot, then I have to go back once a week for a few months depending on what my blood work shows after they start me on the oral medication.
I don't have a diagnoses or know what is going on yet, my doctor was more worried about getting some kind of treatment started and getting me into counseling for my,"Profound depression." Hell, who wouldn't be bummed out if they weren't writing and were getting poked full of holes?!
Yeah, my stress level has been high and yeah, I have a habit of being brutally honest about what keeps me lingering on this particular plane of existence, and that tends to weird the medical types completely out, but I tried telling them I have at least 10 more years I have to stick around! My life is not,"Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy" but I do have a few things that bring me peace and happiness, so I indulge in those when I can, I do my best to stay healthy and I am cooperating with these damn shots that are supposed to make me want to eat and that will hopefully help me get my iron levels to the point that I would at least interest a vampire.
Thanksgiving was okay, I cooked for the kids and we had a nice ham along with the fixings. My new pup, "Benny" enjoyed his first little bits of ham and rewarded me for sharing by actually using his piddle pads instead of the floor or whichever child annoyed him. Hes a very cool little pup and I am completely wrapped around his little paw. He surprised us all tonight by going and bumping the front door with his paw, and then running back and looking at me like,"Hey, dumbass!" I took him out and he did his business right away,so he seems to have copied Spencer only hes too short to reach the bells as of yet.
The dog seems to be picking up on things quicker than my oldest son, I've had to print out an application for a military school to get the point across to him that I am tired of the attitude, so hopefully he will grasp it quickly after reading all the rules and regulations of that situation. I think 5 months of military discipline in an academy setting that doesn't allow outside technology might be a real wake up call to him, I know it would be a shock to the system.

Dear Roger: Treading the Shy Waters

I am a lifelong music fan as are my children. Music is the one constant in our lives that we would choose over every other form of entertainment if we had to pick one to be left as our sole choice. We listen to it, play it and even write it and my eldest son and daughter sing it.
My eldest son has been trying to get me and my daughter to listen to new and different music in order to get us to stop mourning the loss of our favorite band. Some of it just annoys me and I often just walk away from him saying that either one of the guys is coming out with a new solo song or ill just listen to my old concert recordings, but he keeps trying because he thinks we are stuck in a rut.
I came to a realization the other day when he was playing a song for me I actually did sort of like the other day, other than the name of the band so I could find the song again, I didn't want to know anything about them. I didn't want to know their names or what they looked like and I didn't even want to know if they toured or not. I just don't want to get invested in another band emotionally ever again. I don't want to have my heart broken when they dissolve or have a hard time. I don't want to give a damn enough about them to drain my bank account so they can fund their side projects or tour. I don't want to see a recording of them performing in some bar somewhere and have my heart ache because the pain in their eyes and voice just rips my soul. I don't want to know their backstories or their families or how we have these weird little connections. I don't want my daughter to cry because she is worried about them being sad and so thin they look like they don't get enough to eat.
We have that, in spades and I just don't have it in me to go through it with anyone else and neither does my daughter. We are painfully loyal to our broken little band and its bits and pieces that are scattered about and those other fans out there reading this know what I am talking about. You try and move on, but then just when you think you are doing well, you get a little rip in your hoodie or you break your coffee cup and it feels like the world is ending. There are more than a few of us out here still wandering around and we know what it really means to be,"Lost".
I will listen to some of these new bands off and on, but the flavors just arent as sweet, the sounds not as rich and I have no idea who the players are, so I guess Im just going to sit on that porch and wait.

Dear Roger: Second Verse, Same As The First

Well, I finally let the kids nagging wear me down and I went to see a doctor. I went to a new one because I prefer a doctor that actually will talk to me instead of at me, but DAMN! I didn't expect a doctor that would take a bite out of my ass and then give me a talking to like she was twice my age instead of half of it. By the time I managed to escape I was shy about half a gallon of blood and had another damn MRI scheduled to be followed with all kinds of other unpleasant tests and then a follow up appointment all happening within a couple weeks instead of a couple of months like I am used to! I didn't even get to try to use the excuse of no transportation or poor scheduling, they had the appointments scheduled on my days off and transport arranged if I needed it.
Im not looking forward to go starting up all this crap again, but  guess I have to figure something out about why some of the things have gotten worse and why I am not writing. My vision has gone to hell. When I had my eyes checked, the optometrist said that while my eyes looked healthy, my left eye was profoundly weaker than my right, and my vision had significantly weakened since my last appointment. That is seriously NO BUENO for a writer. The left side weakness goes along with my left hand not being as strong and the fact that I limp a bit on my left side. But I get right sided cluster migraines, so that actually makes sense.
They are doing the MRI looking for changes and growth or any weirdness since the last studies and then depending on what that shows, they will proceed with the rest of the bullshit that I hate so much and dread. For someone with as many tattoos as I have you would think I would be okay with needles, but when they are going into your spine and your nerves and then have electrical impulses shot through them, well...that just kinda takes the suck fest to a whole nuther level.
It would be nice to find out why I cant gain weight and why I have no appetite or desire to write or why my tinnitus is out of control lately, but I don't expect Ill get any answers any better than I got the last go round. They give me the,'Well, we THINK it might be... or it could be..." and then they throw a ton a pills at me and tell me to come back over and over for more tests until I snap and decide life is tolerable as it was.  The reason I am going now is because I haven't been writing or eating and I cant see for shit and  that's not a good thing, its had my son worried, so I went for him, and to get him off my case and because I cant really tell an 8 from a 0 anymore or a period from a comma unless I have my screen blown up to grandma level.
I have new glasses coming in a week or so and that should help. I'm trying to get out a little to see if I can find some motivation to get me writing, but so far nada.
We got a new pup and he seems to be the one thing that keeps me busy and makes me laugh.
Benny is quite a character and for some reason he took to me and as I write this hes doing his level best to get between the keyboard and my lap so he can shove my computer off my lap. Hes already spoiled rotten and he spends most of his awake time stuffed in my jacket getting carried around like an extra kid.
Its not too cold up here yet so I have been enjoying getting out and walking around in the rain some, but there are days I long for a car so I could just get in it and drive to the coast or somewhere out of the city for just an hour or two to see if I could find my muse...its been so damn long since I have escaped.

Dear Roger: Chapter Two?

This past week fucking sucked. There is really no other classy way to put it, I sat and just dreaded what I knew was coming like a paralyzed deer watching the approach of a semi-trucks headlights. I couldnt do anything to stop it, I was powerless, the second or third best, not worth the effort, the secret that shall always remain so, and I just sat here and mourned the slow immolation of what was left of my heart. I soothed some of the pain by acquiring a puppy.
I guess I am at that age. I haven't had close physical contact,(read:SEX) in so damn long that I find myself perusing Craigslist personal ads with half a thought towards insanity.
The kids had wanted a smaller dog they could actually play with without getting bowled over or flattened completely, and the choice came between a Pug or Boston terrier and since I have always wanted a Boston, that is what we ended up with. Benny is almost exactly like having an infant. Hes up most of the night raising hell, demanding of being fed immediately and he will jump in your face and go for whatever you are eating if you don't make with the food for him fast enough. Hes completely and totally adorable and probably thinks he cant walk due to all the time he spends in peoples arms, but hes just what I needed. I don't really have time to sit around and be bummed out in the morning when I have him in his crate yelling at me to let him out and feed him as well as hurry up and take him right out to potty, all the while trying to get Spencers needs met as he follows me through the house like a giant shadow, whining and tangling himself around my legs and getting in the way of my coffee, while Benny wiggles and tries his best to either launch himself at my throat in an attempt to help me drink my coffee, or knock it down the front of my shirt in the hopes it will speed me up. Its pure insanity in the mornings now, but im not complaining, I don't have much time to sit around and feel sorry for myself or miss what I will never have again,
Work is going good and its also helping to keep me busy as hell. I find it to be a blessing and a curse. I love that it gets me out of the house and forces me to interact with people on a daily basis, I hate that it forces me to interact with people that I would rather not know existed. It has provided some interesting opportunities to observe some examples of pure psychopathy in action, the effects of long term alcoholism, and various other forms of mental illness and cultures that I would not have observed in other ways. I figure that if nothing else, I have some material for my writing when my muse finally comes back.
I hope that is soon, I actually bought a real typewriter yesterday and it was delivered last night. Its a real beauty that I still cant believe I got so cheap! Its a 1920's Royal and its in museum quality condition, with no cracks rust or missing pieces at all and it functions perfectly! Its from a local shop and even has the original dust cover from the shop. It is gorgeous and I am thrilled to have it to work with, I saw a few exactly like it but not in NEAR as good as condition as mine going for nearly $700 on Ebay, so I guess for once in my life I got a hell of a deal.
Its all about distractions and keeping busy from now on, and just never looking back. Ive always been good at giving advice to people about this kind of thing, so now I have to try it on my own, and its the hardest damn thing I have ever done.

Dear Roger: Monkey's Getting Bullied

The signs have been increasing over the past few weeks, the offhand comment about not wanting to go to school from a child who used to pop up every morning like a spring, literally vibrating and eager for the bus to arrive. The change in wardrobe from her typical flashy, punky style or her fancy dresses to a more subdued almost bland, pre-middle school camouflage of plain t-shirts, jeans and tennis shoes. Her temper has been shorter and I've gotten reports of her being in trouble for shoving another child or yelling at another child, and when I ask about it, she tells me that either they shoved her first or had been picking at her calling her,"Weird" and "Freak" among other things or they had try to take her Jackson on days when the kids are allowed to bring lovies for some reading event.
Today was such a day. She thought it was pj day so she had worn a pair of leggings along with her boots and a very funky cool long sleeved t-shirt that you couldn't even tell was a pj top unless someone told you, and of course she took Jackson. I was at work around 930 when I got a call from her begging me to come get her. She said it was because her clothes were wrong, but I should have known it was more, her voice sounded tense and upset, and I could hear the principal rushing her in the background. I was swamped at work and it was pouring rain so I told her she would be fine in what she had on, that it was raining too hard to walk to the school to get her and then walk home. It bothered me to do it, but I did.
When she got home in the afternoon, I got the whole story, it wasn't just her clothes that were the problem. They had a substitute who essentially allowed the little pack of girls who harass her, to have free reign in the classroom, and when my daughter left the room to use the bathroom, one of the more hateful of the girls kidnapped Jackson and was swinging him around by his tail and calling my daughter names when she got back and demanded his return. Apparently the hysterics and threats were pretty ugly and dire.
She doesn't understand why they hate her, and yes, they tell her they "hate her". They tell her she is a,"Freak" and "Weird" and all kinds of things and I really cant figure out why she has become a target unless its the whole Gifted thing and that she stands out from the crowd. I told her that she is weird. We are all weird in this family and we relish our weirdness. Where they are plain and boring and easily forgettable, she obviously sticks in their minds enough to bother them and that makes her interesting and uncommon and someone who is headed places better than them.  I try to be supportive, but it is wearing on her. She told me today, "They said no one wants to play with me or be my friend and they told "B" not to play with me either or they wouldn't play with her."
I told her about what it was like for me growing up and that I was bullied and ostracized and while there were reasons for some of it,(I usually was dirty, smelled like cigarette smoke or a dirty house and I was a horribly arrogant smart ass), she doesn't have those reasons  except for maybe the smart ass thing, and that it is survivable and sometimes those people grow up and years later look back at how horrible they were to you, and then they become better people and apologize and raise their children to be better people.I told her to consider that maybe she was being tested and that her suffering was part of her path to becoming a good person and helping them to become better people in the end.
Its not easy to tell her that stuff, the old me wants to teach her some really stealthy ju jitsu moves that will have those little shits crying on the ground without and mark on them and no idea what happened except for the smile on my daughters face, but then again, I am trying really hard to be a better person so my kid will win out in the end, but I swear by all that is holy, if that candy ass of a principal does not get this crap in hand by this next week, we will be having a talk and he will not like what I am going to be telling him.  

Dear Roger: Monkey Is A Bitch?

Bitch. Its a word I have had directed at me so many times I simply scoff and blow it off and quite often say," Yes, you figured out my middle name, so what?" But for the life of me, I cannot abide or understand what compels my son to call my 8 year old daughter by that name. She really doesn't deserve it. Shes not a bad kid at all. Yes, I quite often joke about her being,"Evil" or the ringleader of chaos, but quite honestly, she is a very loving, very sweet little girl who adores her big brother and cant quite understand why he gets so mad at her.
She thinks he hates her. She is on the fast track to believing all men are mean and will either yell at her to,"Go Away", ignore her, call her names like,"Bitch" or worse, destroy things she loves or take them away.
Its been a powder keg around my home again and I am sick and tired of it. My little girl does not deserve it, and I don't know what I am going to do about it. I regret soo many things with my elder son, I should have gotten him in counseling when everything first happened to us. I should have demanded he get help for all his anger, but instead I let him try to handle it himself, and unfortunately he has done a terrible job of it.
I have found myself reverting to some of my old behaviors, telling the younger kids to be quiet and not bother him, trying to stay out of his way and appease him because he is so much bigger than me, and when he is angry and I have to go to work I tell my daughter to stay out of his way and quietly message me via private message if hes,"Getting too mean." My stress has been through the roof and my migraines have been back in force, just like they were when I was living in the worst of it. At times he is relentless in his verbal abuse of me, calling me to task for every single shortfall he feels I have, every failing and mistake he feels I have made, he makes fun of my stutters or stress and then sarcastically belittles me when I get upset. It feels like sometimes my ex is standing there in front of me just trying to push me into a heart attack. Today he was so relentless my 10 year old son began screaming at him to stop.
He will be cruel and hateful and then a little while later he will attempt to be kind and helpful, (honeymoon period), to get what he wants, usually money or some treat or control of the tv.
He needs help. I am trying to get it for him, but I worry about my daughter and what she is going to think about men as she grows up, at times it feels like there is just no hope and that I have failed all the way around in protecting my children from not only monsters, but from themselves.
I've told her that the very next time he calls her,"Bitch" or any other horrible name, she is to post on her Facebook page, "I wonder if my brother calls his girlfriend,"Bitch" like he calls me, because if he does, that's not very nice." At least then I know our secret will be right in his pastors lap and maybe some man  somewhere, will have some advice?

Dear Roger:The Monkey Struggles

Writers block sucks. Its probably the most depressing thing I have had to deal with in the past few years. I don't know what brought it on, but its starting to really wear on me. I've had occasional flashes and ideas but the flow I had has stopped cold and even the drive I had to edit my work has dried up. I don't have a clue as to what it would take to spark it back up again, not even the appearance of the boys who used to inspire me fairly often has helped. My tinnitus and migraines are back full force and my vision is horrible and with the Feebs,(FDA) holding up my glasses in Customs in Memphis for the past two weeks, its not been a happy fun time. I know what a large part of things are, and it is part in parcel tied into the torch I have carried for over a decade.
Things will be finally done soon, the dream achieved and I will be watching from afar. It has always been inevitable and I knew that, but I had kidded myself for a few years, that maybe the knight on the white horse would come riding up Burnside to tell me he wanted to be with me.
Heartbreak is the kind of mechanism that can either spur you to greatness with songs that move peoples souls and stories that change lives, or it can leave you a quivering mess that is not fit for human company. I am hovering somewhere in between. I have moments when I feel like I am going to be okay and life will roll along just fine, and then other moments when the enormity of the fact that I have been alone for over 3 years and that I will most likely continue to be alone, hits me and it takes me to my knees. I don't even try anymore and most of the time I am just numb inside so maybe its best I just keep trying to cope as I am, but I want to be able to write again. I don't know what I am going to do in order to coax my muse back around,
My life is getting better in many other ways, my job is going great, I have friends and I am building a social life so I can complain too much, but I do spend a lot of my time alone and I miss having straight, male company! I have all the gay male company I want, and while I adore them and would cuddle all they allow, its really not the same.
My kids try to encourage me to get out, but I don't see myself as having much to offer any potentials. I am an a control freak, I have odd habits and I really don't enjoy the bar scene though I like the music scene. I tend to not mingle well with my own age group and frankly, even I know I am strange and a bit judgmental. I have absolutely no tolerance for drunks, and find them to be pathetic so when I discovered that the last man I even remotely found interesting was into his cups before noon during the weekday, I was soo put off, that I just basically ignored him ever after, (see? Judgmental)  I try not to be, but I guess when you don't NEED a companion, only WANT a companion, you get a hell of a lot more picky and less willing to put up with things you see as weakness.
I think I am in the wrong place to be this eccentric and desirous of male company.

Dear Roger: Trigger

Life is still progressing in leaps and bounds. My job is really pushing me far out of my old comfort zone and forcing me to deal with things that sometimes bring back my old issues to the surface in ways that leave me struggling to not react in my old ways, but I have not retreated to my apartment to lurk behind my windows, hiding from the world, wrapped up in anger and stress over seeing a woman so badly beaten by an ex that her face is shattered and she is facing reconstructive surgery to rebuild it, instead I grimly went about putting measures in place to ensure she would be safe when she returned. I got a picture of the bastard off his mug shot and I made sure we had it handy if he ever gets released, but that doesn't seem likely because one thing I discovered about Oregon is they actually have a really great law here where there is NO BAIL for the type violence her and I have faced and the charges carry a MANDATORY 5 YEARS! Holy cow! A state where people have to actually answer for the things they do? I will believe it when I see it, but I hope for her sake it holds true. The amount of anger I felt after seeing her shocked me and I am probably lucky I didn't hear the assault go down because it would have been bad. I know in my heart I am capable of violence in defense of another, and I know that there are others here who would have gladly assisted me in her defense. We will help her rebuild herself, much like I have done over the past couple of years and hopefully she will start forward again, on to bigger and better things and she will have people who have been there, done that who are willing and able to help, even if its just to listen because sometimes that is all that is needed.
I am enrolling in classes in November. I guess that part is not too shocking, but what is the weird part for me is that they are business and management classes. I have never seen myself as much of a business type person, but this seems to be working for me and it also allows me some time to write and a little bit of freedom to still have a life with my kids.
My daughter is trying to grow up on me. That is the part that is really stressing me out lately. She has beautiful butt length, blonde, curly hair that I have helped her to nurture and care for her entire life. It has never been really cut, only the ends trimmed and its never been dyed or had anything done to it, but lately she has been asking quite often to try some coloring in it. It coincides with her home tattooing and other little body modifications that she has been experimenting with lately. After much thought and negotiation, I have finally decided she can have get her hair cut and she can try a color in it. I am not thrilled about it, but as a friend of mine so aptly pointed out, I have always encouraged her creativity and artistry in all kinds of ways, and she is growing up with a tattooed mother and influences who are not exactly Ozzie and Harriet, in fact nothing in her life has or probably ever will be anything less than slightly left of carnival life, so having colored hair at 8 is par for the course, but I am drawing the line at tattoos or piercing beyond the ears,(even she isn't sure she is ready for her ears to be done yet), so maybe this phase will pass and we will be back in pretty dresses and patent leather Mary Janes by spring, but considering she was totally okay with coloring Jackson's tail... I'm not going to hold my breath.

Dear Roger: Power Struggles,I Can Claim Temporary Insanity Due to Teenager Infestation

New parents of baby boys out there feeling all smug and self-satisfied that you dodged the bullet because you think that because you have only one dick to worry about, let me tell you a thing or two about a thing or two regarding that situation in which you now find yourself.
You think your little baby boy will be easier and less dramatic and less prone to bringing drama into your house? I say to you, "HA!!!" I used to believe the same thing. I thought that when I had my sons that life was going to be easy street, that I wouldn't ever have to worry about them getting hormonal, and moody over boys or overly  dramatic and shrieking because someone disrespected some odd little actor/rock star or stuffed animal that was an iconic representation thereof, but let me tell you what,boys are just as weird and dramatic and horrible about things, and often they are more demonstrative in their feelings and destructive. They do stupid things like throw their video game controllers at hard surfaces and then wonder why they don't work, take apart their guitars and skateboards and all kinds of crap thinking they can make it better or,"Fix" it and then get upset with YOU when you don't understand the method to the madness of the laptop screen with the cardboard jammed in it.
If you have more than one boy in your house,(as do I), you might have the blend of the guy archetypes. I have the "Shy, sensitive, deep thinker that slow boils to explosions", the "Cocky jock who thinks he is the man of the house and reminds you enough of Eddie Haskell at times you want to scream"  as well as the "Practical joker who finds every fart worth sharing with everyone at all times, especially in public as he blames it on you."  I have all 3 types as well as my poor, long suffering daughter who is a blend of all three in one seemingly innocuous package,(dont believe it, not for one minute!), but there will be more on that another day. I do my best to cope, but I have learned to laugh at those who find out they are having a boy and actually seem relieved. I enlighten them with a few tales of some of the things my boys have done, as well as share some tales of adventures of some of my friends sons.
To be fair, most of the boys besides my sons are Texans, and that kinda skews the dynamic because growing up Texan and boy does up the ante for pure fuckery and insanity, but truck surfing, and nearly becoming road kill while running from the game warden can happen anywhere as well as riding a dirt bike off the side of an overpass, or through a barbed wire fence or blowing up a battery and nearly blinding oneself, jousting with Roman Candles,playing with Ronsol and Axe and setting their damn jeans on fire to the point they had to come home in their chones, ending up a hood ornament on a Prius due to a downhill run on a longboard that went a little wrong,as well as any number of things that have left parents I know as well as myself with enough grey hairs to keep Lady Clariol in business for the next century.
Little boys can be sweet and cute and all kinds of fun to raise, but if you think that first time they peed in your face was an accident, I say,"Woe unto you, that is yet a sign of things yet to come."
I tell you these things now while I still can as I spend a few hours trying to figure out just how my eldest son managed to make himself administrator of our home computer network and set it up so that he can shut off my damn computer and lock me and my Iphone out of all internet access. I used to think it was pretty cool he was such a genius at all things computers and self taught at all of it, kinda like his music habit where he taught himself how to play guitar and write music and all kinds of things. I have a feeling there will be a lot of ante upping over the next few days as we engage in our power struggle to establish the Alpha in this house. He may be a teen, but he knows very little about the true cost of war and living with a person who will go nuclear with the first strike.

Dear Roger: Wake Me When September Ends? No, Try November

I've sat here for days with a half-assed, morose bit of poetry rolling around in my skull that I just cant seem to put together, and perhaps its due to the changing weather or the inevitable end of summer that I cant put my thoughts together, but I really have nothing against September, though I do really like that song and appreciate its sentiment. Its November that I wish would end, and soon. Its been like a long, protracted, suffering that has gone on much longer than it should and as sleep comes less and less easy, my temper becomes more and more short, I feel the slow build to the end and I know I am powerless to do anything other than stand back and watch what I know is bound to happen, happen. It will be my final answer, the end of everything and I will accept it and move forward, but I will mourn for the,"What might have beens" and what I wish could have happened in another lifetime.
It is a blessing and a curse, the cancer that will be going into its final remission though its unfortunate to think of it like that, in many ways its been a cancer that has been eating me from the inside for a long time, much like all good heartaches do to a person.  When its over, I will have a drink and a smoke, put my boots on and walk out the door into a new day and a new mindset with it all behind me, knowing that the door is forever closed, and that may be the true sign of healing...if I can actually do it.

Dear Roger: Love, Little Boxes, Breaking Molds, AIDS, and Finding Somebody to Love

The season of "Giving" is approaching and im finally getting back into my charity work. Its something I had really missed, and thanks to some friends of mine, I got out and did the Portland AidsWalk. The walk not only met its goal, it exceeded it by over 45k! It was quite an experience to be involved in it and I enjoyed myself. The scene was as Portlandia as Portland gets and I don't think I have felt so welcomed since I have been here. The boys who were part of my team are friends of mine and we made a day of it, just walking along talking about our experiences growing up and dealing with a society the expects everyone to fall into a particular mold. There were people of every size, shape and description walking in that fundraiser, they were walking for friends, family, loved ones, themselves or just because they know that Aids is a terrible disease we should have defeated over a decade ago. I walked in memory of my cousin and for all the people who live in the shadows and in fear. That was a huge topic of discussion that day, the stigma.
I remember seeing on the news the misery and torture that Ryan White went through when he was diagnosed with Aids and how horrible people treated a child who had an illness he had no control over and that was going to kill him. It was just the tip of the iceberg of how gay people were and are treated.
I've never gotten it. I know I was raised with a certain attitude in my home as a child because when my said to her friend that she suspected I was more than just a,"Tomboy", it freaked me the hell out. I was already getting harassed by some of the prominent members of the football team at school and called things like,"Dyke"  because of how I dressed and acted and my sports playing as well as being ostracized by people who had been friends and neighbors previously, so when my own mother made comments about my room decor  (Hollywood stars of the 40's of both sexes), It horrified me and probably had a lot to do with why I became a bit of a sexually aggressive young adult that had kids early.
I've grown a lot since then and reached a point in my life where I don't care what other people think about me, and I am just accepting of where I am in life. I am at peace with my place in life and accepting of difference and I wish more people were the same way. I see people that I know are living in pain, living in the shadows and hiding who they are and who they love for the sake of their careers or family or community and I see the heartache and the pain it causes and it hurts my heart for them because I know how much it hurts. It was refreshing to admit to myself and the friends I walked with that day that love is love is love and being open to accepting it no matter if its not in the form you or anyone else expected is an amazing and freeing way to be.
It was hard for me as a parent of 5 kids to reach that point. I was fast on the way to falling into lockstep with my family and I wanted my children to be,"NORMAL", with my sons being tough and strong men who would go on to the Corp of Cadets at Texas A&M and marry good girls with all the traditional trappings of Texas to follow. I wanted my daughters to be good girls who would marry respectable men who would be their equals and respectable members of the community. I wanted my daughters to go on to either Texas A&M or UT and get their Doctorates and become powerful women who would lead their communities before they gave me a few grand kids to spoil rotten. The thing is with my kids it that they are individuals, and as individuals they have very distinct paths and hopes for the future. My eldest has already made her own distinct path and TAMU is not on the radar and she has not shown any interest in dating.  My eldest son wants to go to college in Oregon and he talks of never marrying quite frequently. My other two boys are a puzzle. My youngest daughter has had her sights set on one particular fella for a long time and she tends to talk of TAMU as being the only school that is worth even considering, but I have stopped pushing that, and when we talk of the future and what my dreams of for my kids, I simply say, "I want to look in your faces and only see joy and peace, never pain or unhappiness, if I see that, then I know I did my job as a parent. Ill love you no matter who you love, what you become, where you are or what you are doing. If YOU are happy and being a good person who does no harm to others, then I am at peace with that."
I've always been a person who when told to zig, I zagged. I resented being forced into molds and little boxes. I always worked non-traditional jobs, dated or even married the type of guy who was so far removed from the family norm that I am sure my parents wished I had been gay at times. It wasn't because I was trying to to purposely offend anyone, it was just at the time, the person who walked into my life and shook up my world with love happened to be a Lebanese Semi-pro soccer player, or an Iranian gypsy violin playing/singing, blind, research scientist,(still do carry a bit of a torch for him), or a former Hell's Angel Prospect with issues of his own who ive now reached a peace with and share most of my kids with. Love doesn't always fit a perfect mold and being accepting of the form it takes is part of being a grown human and I think I have finally grown up.

Dear Roger: The Monkey Found Its Balls

I am a generally good natured person. I like to believe that people are who they try to portray themselves to be, but I am also a bit of a protectionist person who suspects everyone's motivations and I try to just handle my business on my own and not owe anyone a damn thing because when you let someone do you a favor, they think they own a piece of you and no one owns me. I have worked very damn hard to get to where I am, I am raising my kids on my own, housing and feeding, and clothing them, with no social life or any of that because I dont have time for it. I work and I am always looking for a way to better our circumstances but NOT at the detriment of others. I fiercely defend my loved ones, but I prefer to just move on and leave the problems behind me. Other people, I have found, do not operate by the same code, but I have managed to navigate around them so far even if they have had me angry enough to spend a few hours reviewing Libel law and what constitutes a good slander case after. I let my Buddhist learning take over and I just decided that karma will out.
I have gotten tougher and much, much braver lately about actually dealing with people and NOT returning to my den and flipping the monkey upside down. Currently the monkey is right side up, erect and flipping the bird in aggravation, but that is the pose my son put him in, and while I understand his sentiment, I try not to take it down the stairs with me. I have been focusing on the positive things in my life. I wildly upgraded my phone from the basic Iphone 4 to an Iphone 4s 16g which now means I have a better camera and more storage and even better, SIRI and all kinds of fun tools to play with. I did the same for my son and mayhem has ensued. He wanted the 5 but I didn't want to wait that long for a phone, and I couldn't justify that kind of expense. This was the result of a bad business decision on my part that I had to extricate myself out of due to my job, and while it was a very costly lesson to me, it actually taught my son a lot more and he is now a much more wary and untrusting person, especially of women. He sort of jokingly claimed he was going to become gay just so he no longer had to deal with women and their manipulations.
I actually wrote and mailed a letter that I had been dared to write a long time ago. I still cant believe I did it, and after I put it in the mailbox, I stood there in panic wanting to get it back but unable to fit my hand through the mail slot. I had no I.D. with me and the mail lady wouldn't give it back to me, so its off and gone. My first ever letter of that nature. F.M.L.
My writing is coming in fits and starts, and once its more reliable and smoothed out again, Ill post something on my tumblr about it, but for now I want to keep working on making sure the characters are true to themselves and that the story flows well. I've been working on Secrets, but Long Distance is almost done with the editing, and the re-vamp of Drifts should be done any day now. Its just a matter of finding the time to sit down at my computer to put them all together and then out there for the world to peruse.
Im not walking with my head down as much and that is a good thing. I can walk with my head up, knowing that I am doing this on my own, earning my keep working an honest job using my brain and my honest effort with no man paying anything for me, though the ex did finally find a job back in Arizona, he still struggles to just keep himself fed. My kids are happy and busy and we are soon to have a car so we wont be spending this winter walking in the rain or trapped in the house. '
Progress has been made and balls have been found.

Dear Roger: Trusting Your Gut and What Its Worth

I got news last night that shook me. As my snarky teen son sat next to me on the couch and tried to convince me I was tired and needed to go to bed, while I was busy reading a blog by a young woman that I have come to care about as a distant friend, another friend who is from my past in law enforcement sent me a chat message on Facebook. He just asked if I had heard about an officer that we used to work with. It took a minute or two for the memory to come to surface, but once it did, the mans face was clear as a bell, he had been my eldest sons fathers best friend.
Whenever my sons father was on duty at the ambulance, this officer was around. They went shooting together, went to training's together for weeks, and they were as close as brothers. My sons father would even drive the nearly 300 miles from his home in Tucson on his days off, just to hang out with this officer and go places with him. I thought it odd at the time, but the relationship I had with my sons father was so turbulent and scary, that I dared not say a word about it. When I finally managed to get away from my sons father and he quit the department and was told not to return, the officer was not happy with me, but he left me alone. I remember him being a bit arrogant and odd, but not an overtly horrible person. We ate meals together, worked scenes together, saved lives together. He wore a badge and was part of my family in that way. If I hadn't been able to hide from my sons father due to his violence and threats of violence, and if he had gotten parental rights, the officer most likely would have been my sons Godfather and most assuredly would have been in my sons life quite a bit and I would have had no say in it, but I did what I knew I had to do as a mother and i protected my son and I fought to keep a monster out of my sons life for over 16 years.
I found out last night that trusting my gut and going without many of the things that so many women take for granted such as a man to help support and guide a son, child support or any kind of financial assistance, the security of knowing that no one is going to hurt your child because they love them,(in fact, he promised he would kill him if given the chance), knowing the medical and family history of the paternal side of my sons family, and my career, which I gave up and changed to stay below the radar for many years, was the right decision.
The officer who was my sons fathers best friend was accused by his eldest daughter of continually molesting her when she was a young girl. The investigation is just beginning, but he will never be arrested or serve any time for it because he took his own life shortly after being questioned about it.
Do I think my sons father would have been capable of being involved in such things? I will never know, but I am damn sure glad I will never have to find out.
Its a smaller world than we realize and we are all connected along our journey. I firmly believe that, even though we have vastly different lives and struggles and paths that we follow, we share things with each other and reading the young woman's blog posting last night reminded me of that because just the other day I was cleaning out my old certifications and getting rid of things that I no longer hold as essential to where I am in life now, and one of the first things I came across was my certification as a,"Tobacco Cessation Counselor" that I received when I was an Americorp Member. As part of my tour of duty and as a former smoker, I got certified and I taught classes on how to quit smoking,(a sort of AA styled thing), and one of the ways to quit that they had been pushing was a drug...a drug that I had recently heard about via a tragedy. I had done more research after hearing about this event, and how unpredictable it was and due to the population I was working with, (largely Native, Impoverished and poly-substance abusers), I refused to even introduce it as a possibility. I encouraged natural methods, along with diet, exercise, the patch and distraction. I had a 95% success rate. It was the first time I had ever heard that name, that name that would a short time later circle around and mean much more to us and my daughter than I could ever explain, but it is an odd synchronicity that has reverberated  through many lives now and I will not discount it.
Trust yourself, you are stronger than you know, and there are forces in the world that make us all accountable to and for each other.
Blessings and strength to you all.

Dear Roger: The Monkey Is Running Amuck

School is back is session! I say that with the joy of a parent who is now free to walk around their house with THEIR music playing at an obnoxiously loud level while they scratch inappropriate places on their naked body eating goodies that they had stashed away, waiting for a moment when the ravening hordes of children weren't around to give them the sad puppy dog eyes and say,"Can I have a bite?" HAH! No! I'm going to go to McRaes today and have a plate of french fries with gravy and lots of katsup and I'm going to mix the two, like I like them. Its been over a year since I've had time to myself, and I'm a bit on the twitchy side if you cannot tell. I love my kids, in fact I live for my kids, but after not having a break from them I'm about ready to run off screaming down Burnside.
I think the kids were ready to go back as well, I know my daughter was even though the principal seemingly ignored our previous discussion about just letting her be a typical 3rd grader and he has stuck her in an advanced class as an 4th grader, at least she wont get bored and she really seems to like her teacher who is a young, blonde, cheerleader type. My daughter...Buffy in training.
She only took Jackson to the first day of school. I was pretty proud of her for that. Of course the minute she was in the door of home she was right into her room to grab him and hug him to tell him all about her day, but she let him stay home because she didn't want him stuck in her desk,"Alone and bored all day." Maybe she will let him skip picture day this year though in a way that would make me kinda sad.
The boys were not pleased to be back in school. Stubby just is not pleased about school no matter what. He would rather just stay home and read because hes anti-social and not a happy camper, but he knows its not an option.
Sticky was sort of happy to be back, he likes seeing his friends and hes very popular at his school, so its like going to a bit of a party for him everyday except for the part where they make him actually do some schoolwork.
My eldest was piled on with Physics, Economics, Algebra 2, Psychology, and Lit homework his first day. He was up late getting it all done and whining about the misery of being in Advanced Placement classes, while he is working but I had little to no sympathy for him. I do have to wonder about the intelligence of a school district that has the high school kids starting at 0730 and the elementary kids starting at 0830, if you ask me, I think it should be the other way around.
Im hoping to get back to writing more now that the kids are going back to school, my muse took a runner on me a couple of months ago and said,"Screw this mess!" and between work, kids, moving and all the other mess I haven't even promoted the books I have out other than to occasionally sell the paper copies I have on hand. I have a few story ideas cooking, and I need to get them put down, and I need to track down where in the hell the copyright office sent my copyright papers on one of my novels, so I need to get serious about my own life again.
I love Fall for many, many reasons, its a good time of year. I've got friends planning on coming over to watch a concert with us on our new big screen tv on the 18th, so I am actively socializing and making new friends and introducing them to the music and things I love while checking out the things they love and I'm going places and meeting new people and making plans for a future I never expected to have and I think that is a good thing.

Dear Roger: Teens, Tweens and Other Deal Breakers Nobody Told Me About

Babies are cute and easy to love. Toddlers have a certain charm and when they are being difficult parents can soothe themselves with little things like dressing them in all the dorky, mini-hipster outfits to be found or even foisting them off on some long suffering day care provider if worse comes to worse, but there is another stage in the process of child-rearing where that is no longer an option, where you really no longer get to pick out their cute lil outfits without WW3 breaking out, and even when you do, they manage to do THINGS to them, and if you can get a baby sitter to watch them, you have to worry about things like hazard pay or if your house will still be standing when you return. I am talking about the stage of development called the,"Tween" stage.
My boys seem to be navigating it with their typically strange aplomb, alternating from sweet little men who cannot give me enough hugs one moment and who are sweet, young gentlemen in training to the next moment when they are brawling, half-naked,(or fully naked) savages who take great pride in their pee helicopters, going as long as possible without showering until their older brother bodily picks them up and throws them in the tub, clothes and all. They can be kind and sweet or snarky and mean, sometimes within the same sentence, but they tend to keep it among themselves and the brawls are mainly over their goofy video games and who drank the last of what or ate the last of what. My daughter? She is a WHOLE nuther story.
My little girl is 8 and she is a bit of an artsy, temperamental, and to be honest, she is a bit of an odd child at times. She has always had a sweet nature to her, compassionate and gentle, concerned for others and worried about those she perceives who might be hurting, but that does not mean she will not put the smack down on someone, especially when they mess with her monkeys, or tease her about her favorite boys or just generally piss her off, and lately, there seems to be much in the way that pisses her off or upsets her!
She has gotten to that age where she slams doors, where she answers back and where she will tell off her father when she is annoyed at him,(have to admit that one makes me proud), she stands up to him now and that is a good thing.
Tweens are difficult to figure out. One minute she is singing along with Bruno Mars and arguing with her brothers about who drank the last of the milk, and the next she is teaching,"Monkey church" about the 10 Commandments.
She is starting to care about things like how to style her hair and her clothes more and more,(though she has always had a very distinctive style), and instead of looking up to her favorite guys, she has referred to them as,"Cute" or even worse, "Whoa! when did Ben G. get so handsome?" after the last concert we watched together online. I just said to her, "Hes the same, I have no idea what you are talking about, you are 8, no rock star is handsome when you are 8! Shh!Stop it!"
She just smiled at me and flounced away singing Shy Water until her big brother harassed her about picking up her socks and then she threw her boot at him because he stole her monkey until she came out of her room and got them. It was mayhem for about an hour that ended when she stole his Iphone and threatened to drop it in the commode.
She gets grumpy and stomps off to her room at the drop of a hat now, she cries if you look at her wrong and she slams doors hard enough to rattle windows and she gets upset over the oddest things. The other day I was sitting on the couch trying to do some editing and she came and sat next to me just in tears as if her best friend had died. I asked her what was wrong and she climbed into my lap with her goofy monkey and she said," I cant remember what they sound like! I cant remember Jacksons voice! Im forgetting! You said I wouldn't, that they would always be with me, but Im forgetting just like they forgot me and Im SAAAAD!" She was absolutely bereft. I asked her if she wanted to watch the video or anything, she said that she did, so I put it on for her and I told her that if if made her feel better, that maybe she should send them a,"Hello" or something but to bear in mind that they are big, busy people with families and jobs and lives and life moves on for everyone, even little girls. She watched her video and sent her little messages and maybe somehow, someway the powers that be got the message because her favorite boy broke his silence with a beautiful picture of him and his baby that made her just melt, and one of the others told her hello on FB which made her entire week.
Crisis averted for at least an hour.

Dear Roger:The Monkey Is Loved

The summer is winding down and the school year is approaching. While I am looking forward to it with some joy because I think we all need a bit of a break from each other, I am also looking at it with a bit of trepidation. I am worried about my little girl going back to school because her last experience wasn't the greatest and in all honesty, she hasnt changed that much from the kid that she was when she was there the last time.
Her teacher is an unknown quantity because the teacher she went and met and was thrilled with, just sent us a letter letting us know she got transferred and we will be getting a new teacher who has only taught lower grades and said nothing in her introduction letter about having any experience dealing with artsy, gifted, high tone, kids like my daughter. The other teacher is not an option at all because frankly she is just a hateful heifer that I have yet to hear a single positive thing about.She just about succeeded in making Stubby hate school altogether, and there is no way in hell I am letting her get my daughter.
Stevie really wants to go back to school, she has missed her friends and she has missed music and art and the opportunity to participate in talent shows and plays and things like that. She has already laid out her first day of school wardrobe and its colorful to say the least with her high boots, multi-colored, mis-matched socks, her black punk rocker pants with the plaid skirt attachment, her new 100 Monkeys t-shirt, her technicolor scarf, and her red beret. I drew the line at her drawing tattoos on herself and she has mentioned more and more piercing her ears though she usually chickens out before we get there, she has drawn tattoos on herself on more than a few occasions and her jewelry selections are a very interesting array to say the least. The one part of her array that I had hoped would have changed, the one thing that is sure to make her stand out and get negative attention from any potential bullies, is something she wont budge on either.
I gently suggested she leave Jackson at home with me this year and you would have thought that I told her she could no longer like the real thing. Her face fell, and her entire demeanor changed. "Mom, he needs me! He will be scared and lonely and what if some mean monkeys came by the house while I was gone? Who is going to protect him? You will be at work and not able to take care of him, so he has to go with me, im his protector, I promised to keep him safe!"
I got the message. She still needs him. Maybe after she gets settled into the routine and we see how this year is going to go, maybe she will let him stay home, but if not, then we will just handle it. Hes been her constant companion for over two years, he still goes with her everywhere and is her partner in crime, so I guess I will just prepare to write my "Permission slips" for Jackson and Stevie to be together and hope that the bullies leave her alone and her friends who were so glad to see her when we visited at the end of this last year, will rally around her and let her know that things will be okay enough for him to stay home.
Lots of things have been going good here. My job is going great and I am staying busy. Its been a long and kind of dull summer otherwise, and we have mourned the loss of the bright spot that used to see us through, but our friends we made at those wonderful concerts have stayed in touch and reunions are planned and who knows? maybe 5, 10 and 20 years down the road there will be 100 Monkeys fan gatherings were those who are still alive and kicking can get together and share a toast to gratitude and remember that once there was a band...
Still no car here, I chickened out on buying one because its just soo dang much money and I really don't want to get that invested in some material object that will end up making me its slave. I might if I find a great deal with a low, low payment, but I refuse to sink myself into something that is going to make me dread life. I tried to soothe Chance by getting him a flatscreen tv, we will see how long that lasts.
My big frustration this month has been dealing with the cable company. It seems like they are just trying to thwart me and piss me off and I really don't know why I haven't given up on them and just ordered satellite internet, but I hate to give up on something I already have and everyone I talk to have been so damn nice its hard to quit them. Maybe ill get lucky and get a jerk the next time I call and then I will have a good excuse to just tell them to pound sand, instead of getting a nice sounding man who offers me a free dedicated Ethernet port and credits for a couple months of higher speed internet,(he might as well have offered me dinner out and fantastic sex, it had the same effect), my mind went to mush and I said,"Okay, thank you!" We will see if he delivers, being it was a man who offered it,(much like when a man promises great sex), I am skeptical.

Dear Roger: Parenting Once Upon a Time

I make my eldest son nervous. Its not because I tend to be a bit temperamental and grumpy in the heat, its because he knows that the one chink in my armor, the one thing that moves me to be protective beyond all reason and that turns even my hard heart to mush, is kids, especially babies. I don't know how he knows that other than the fact I have 5 of them and I worked in education and was a cop and I have given up everything time and time again to keep my kids safe, and that pretty much any little kid,(or even a bigger kid in need), can motivate me to try to move mountains. Having my baby girl almost killed us both and my health has never really rebounded from it, and while I claim to not want anymore because I am actually looking forward to the day when I can go off duty and relax a little, he has caught me more than a couple times perusing the Foster Care website and even the Special Needs Adoption websites and he has had to almost drag me away from cute babies when we are out in public. I adored my little nephew Rowdy, and I miss him quite a bit, in fact, besides leaving my sis, leaving him was the heartbreaking part of leaving Texas.
I have always tried hard to be a good parent and while I don't know and wont know for years if I have succeeded, I do know that I have have been fully invested in it , physically, mentally, emotionally , financially, spiritually; in every way you can think to be invested in it. I've made mistakes along the way and some of them my kids have called me on pretty quickly, but I never made some of the cardinal ones. I never drank or smoked when I was pregnant and I never smoked around my kids at all or allowed anyone to smoke around them. Some of the worst fights I had with my ex were because of his smoking around the kids.
He is my big regret. I wish I had left sooner. I wish I had been stronger and I worry daily about my sons growing up to think that its acceptable to abuse the women in their lives or my daughter thinking that its okay for a man to hurt her or talk down to her. I like to think she wont because she has little tolerance for her father as it is and he complained to me over the phone the other day that she was,"Abrupt, snippy and rude" to him and even hung up on him when he told her he wasn't sending any support because he was broke. She reportedly said, " Oh, that's a shock!"  and went on to say,"Whatever, fine!" and then told him she,"Had plans with Jackson",(her stuffed monkey), and hung up the phone. So I am hoping with balls that size she will be strong and never fall into a situation where she puts up with it.
I talk to my sons constantly about their behavior and how to treat people, and its my eldest son who will be the litmus test for the entire situation as he was the one who lived through the worst of it, endured most of it along with me and though he is a giant prude and very reserved and serious, he is also very strict on his sister, prone to snark and even being snide to the point of driving both me and her to the point of wanting to either cry or lose our minds. I am hoping that most of his rudeness is due to his age, but I do call him on it and tell him when he is echoing the worst aspects of his step-fathers behavior.
Babies do get me feeling all mushy and I enjoyed my babies especially my eldest son. He was cute and sweet and seeing Stevie's favorite boy with his new baby reminded me of when my son was a tiny lil thing and how much I relished that new baby bonding time. My boyfriend at the time loved my son and he was very invested in him, and we were, initially a perfect little family. Those first few months were probably the perfect time in my and my sons life, when I spent time just listening to him breathe as he slept and all those soft little baby sounds he made, and his cute little smiles and how he looked so angelic and the way his little foot would fit against my cheek and he would gurgle at me until Bear would grab him up in one hand and cuddle him to his chest and we would lay on the couch together watching movies or just being together, and how he blew little bubbles in his sleep or would hold onto our fingers and the way his hair was  pink in the sunlight.
That lasted until he was about nine to ten months old and started getting his teeth. Then he began screaming for HOURS on end, he would develop diaper rash for seemingly NO reason, weird rashes and he began saying things that Bear taught him including little phrases like,"Bye bye asshole" and he developed a fondness for streaking. He would strip off all his clothes and take off out the front door of my apartment as fast as he could either toddle or cruise and he would usually be shrieking,"NO!!!" at the top of his lungs and painted in poo. It was at that age I had started wondering if maybe I should consider sending him back.
By the time he was two, and the near kidnapping incident at the store had occurred, I had sometimes debated if maybe I should have let those fools get a taste of just what they were messing with, especially since they had seemingly missed the screaming, stripping incident a few moments prior to their attempt. He was an adorable toddler though, all big eyes and long eye lashes with wavy ginger hair and cheekbones to die for and peaches and cream skin. Yeah, he looked like and angel but his cat and I both knew he could be a Hells Angel. I loved him unconditionally though and I got my revenge for his screaming nudist tantrums and poo flinging by dressing him like a small,gay fashion victim until he was close to 14. Parental payback is like that.
I was telling my son, who is now a hulking teenager, these stories and he was even laughing at some of them, patting me on the shoulder a couple times as I got choked up talking about how cute he was and how I regretted he had never really had a daddy to look at him like that young man looks at his son, but he said,"Well, I had you and you did enough, and when I become a dad, I will make damn sure I do it right so there will never be someone feeling this way years down the road. You did the best you could, mom, I know you did."
As much as we butt heads and tease and harass each other, we both know we are all in as a family and while he may never have had a daddy, he has drawn a line in the sand and decided to make sure it doesn't happen again and that is one lesson I have successfully passed onto him.
We sat on the couch talking for quite a while and he asked me if I regretted not being able to have any more kids and I admitted that sometimes I did regret it, but I didn't want to leave the rest of them orphans. He said, "Well, at least I know you will be an awesome grandma when it comes that time, though I have a feeling you will be one of those diving out of airplanes and bringing the kids musical instruments and other crazy crap, but I also know you will be the fun kind of grandma that actually wants them around to spoil and show off and thats pretty cool." Yeah...just give me a decade or so before we go talking the "G-word" okay?

Dear Roger: The Monkey Is Erect

Its been a hectic, crazy, exhausting couple of weeks, but now it is starting to settle down just a little bit and I finally have my desk back where its sort of in order again and I can every now and then steal a moment to write a thing or two.
I love my new apartment, I like having the high ground and the feeling of being able to see trouble coming. Yeah, I may be a paranoid nut job, but whatever, it also has a killer view of some mountains and the zombie apocalypse will have to make do with my neighbors first.
My job is keeping me busy and my boss is insisting I do things like write the newsletter and actually interact with people. Its a bit of a weird thing for me that occasionally takes me way beyond my comfort zone, but I guess that is a good thing? Im actually taking them a bit beyond their comfort zone in that I am getting them involved in using social media for marketing and trying out new things to promote the company. We will see how it all goes.
The kids are finally starting to get close to going back to school! I am soo damn happy about that! I love my kids, don't get me wrong, but I LOVE the start of school and some time to myself.
Me and my crazy assed dog have seemed to have finally reached an understanding about things. I wasn't really sure if I was ever going to bond with him, and this last month was especially hard on me, being that it was the 1 year anniversary of losing Fergus and the month Spencer turned 1. Hes the size of a small horse now, standing past my hip, with paws as big as my hand and a tail that seems to unerringly knock off everything I want to stay upright. It always felt like I was the one dealing with the less pleasant parts of his care while my eldest son, the one who was supposed to help me with his care, pretty much ignored him for the most part. I had reached the point of frustration with the entire situation  that I had even begun seeking a better home for Spencer where he would actually have a chance of getting more attention and perhaps an owner who could spend time with him and not be injured,(hes dislocated my shoulder twice and pulled my knee out of place being rambunctious), so it was hard for me to feel anything but ire for him when I had to try and walk him. The closer it came to the anniversary of Fergs death, the more painful it became for me to deal with Spencer, and one evening I was sitting on the couch looking at pictures of of Ferg, back when I first got him, and I was crying when I realized that he, in a lot of ways resembled Spencer at that time in his life. He was big and goofy, all angles and paws and unsure of where all his parts were going at the same time and he knocked me off the porch at home a few times and knocked me over a few times before we reached our understanding, and he had a fondness for eating my favorite books when he was mad at me for leaving him home. He used to track mud inside when I had just mopped and if he got nervous about the fighting he would sometimes pee in fear before he would try to protect me. I try to give Spencer the benefit of the doubt about a lot of things and he genuinely seems to be a good and smart dog that wants to please us, but I had just not connected to him at all until some really weird things started happening.
After we got moved, it was almost as if my eldest son just quit caring about Spencer altogether, he wouldn't walk him, feed him water him or even spend a moment talking to him. I kept finding the dog laying at my feet at night as I sat on the couch or at my desk, in fact I almost tripped over him a few times. He followed me from room to room like a silent black shadow and when I would get out of the shower in the morning he would be sitting by the door, just like Fergus used to do. He started sitting at staring at me when he needed out, in fact he stopped ringing the bells at the door and just started walking up and staring at me or nudging my computer or my hand until I would get up and take him out. He started not jerking me around when we went out walking, heeling like we had been working together all along and things have been going smooth, but today was the icing on the weird cake.
Fergus used to freak out when I would sit on the ground or lay on the floor. He couldn't stand it. He would do his high pitched,"I don't like that!!" bark and he would bound around me like he was a crazy assed spring bok, trying to protect his young until I got up and proved I was okay. When I took Spencer out this afternoon and let him run around in the grass for a bit, I got tired and I decided to sit in the cool grass for a bit. I was like Fergs spirit took him over because the minute my butt hit that grass, Spence was in my face doing THAT bark. He was bounding around me freaking out until I got up but once I got up, he stopped and just flopped down with his tongue hanging out staring at me and my daughter after I yelled at him,"Spencer Jackson! Cool your Jets!!" Thats another thing, he wont respond to his shortened name, my damn kids have him trained to only respond to his FULL name for the full dorky effect, so just in time for me to finally bond with the damn dog, I realize I will forever lose my cool cred anytime I walk him anywhere. I had a good cry and petted him as I walked him up the stairs home, and hes laying at my feet right now being a good boy, and I guess I have finally decided to give him a chance to be the dog he can be, and not the dog I miss so much, though I have more than a passing feeling that the dog I miss so much is not very far away from us.

Dear Roger: The Monkey is Sideways

The move is finally over! We are in the new apartment and its vastly different than the old apartment. Even though its on the second floor and you would think it would be hotter, its actually cooler, and its damn sure quieter. The only down side is the neighbors below us are smokers, and even though they are only supposed to smoke outside, its pretty obvious by the smell in the master bedroom that they smoke in their house. Im hoping that gets handled pretty quick because with all the new carpet, paint, fixtures and such that we have, their nasty cigarette smoke will make it stink in no time at all.
The move was what I expected. The only help we had was #6 son, everybody else either strangely didn't get texts or just didn't show up, so we had no truck, and the only dolly available had a flat tire, so it was trudging back and forth across the parking lot and up a flight of 20 stairs in the two hottest days we have had all summer with our stuff. I did fine until the last day when I went to pick up one of the last things we were moving and I missed the bottom step at the old apartment and dislocated my bad knee.
I've dislocated that knee a few times, it always sucks, it always makes me cuss in unique and colorful ways and it usually freaks out Chance when it happens. There is no point in going to a doctor about it, I know how to fix it myself just like I know how to fix my own shoulders, hips and fingers when they pop out. I got it back in and then hobbled to the new apartment found my knee brace, wrapped it up so it wouldn't slip right back out, and went back to doing what needed to be done.
The kids handled the move pretty well. Sticky turned 12 in the middle of it and I got him an X-Box 360 with the Kinect thingy, so we set it up with his games and they played that and stayed out of the way through most of it. My eldest son is still irritated that he didn't get the Master bedroom and the private bathroom, but I told him its my and Stevie's turn to have the bigger room.
The dog does not seem to like the second floor experience much, he gets pretty excited and runs amuck like hes lost his mind when hes loose and I think that is a sign he needs exercise as much as anything else, but hopefully he will adjust soon.
We are getting all the redecorating done as quickly as possible and settled in so that when school starts back in a month, everyone will be ready to go and comfortable. I need to get back to writing in the worst way. I have had a story idea cooking for quite a while, but with everything in disarray, its hard to get my mojo working on it. I haven't hardly done any promotion on any of my other books while the move has been going on, and dealing with all the transition but now that we are done, I have to get back on it and get things rolling again.
I've decided I need some new art for the living room, so I'm going to be looking for just the right piece until I find it. Its not really something I can just walk over to a store and buy, it has to be something that strikes me, so I guess Ill have to spend some time out and about looking for just the right thing to set off our new place.
The move was an adventure and I hope to not have to do it again anytime soon because somehow our 7 bags has become a whole bunch more and its all HEAVY!

Dear Roger: The Monkey Is Upside Down

The move into the new apartment has been held up due to maintenance taking a little longer than expected. All the upgrades required a lot of man power that would have been available if there hadn't been about 100 other things going on in the complex at the same time, so instead of moving this weekend, I have been sitting in my old apartment, among the stacked boxes of my things, my artwork and my decor trying not to lose my shit.
I am a neat freak. I admit it and I am kind of proud of it. Yes, I have 4 kids. But, my 4 kids know that mom expects them to clean up after themselves. In my house there is a place for everything and I really like everything to be in its place, but right now? Right now there is crap everywhere. There are stray monkeys staring at me from the coffee table, odd socks laying on my book shelf, art work stacked all over the dog crate, dishes in boxes on chairs and fans running full blast blowing tepid air all over everything.
Yeah, its hot. Its hot and muggy and miserable and we are all grumpy. I've had a story in my head for almost a week and no place to write it. The table was put out for donation because we aren't moving it to the new apartment. We are rearranging and redecorating and changing some things around I just want my life back in order so I can write the damn story and get things back to rights before Sticky turns 12 on Wednesday, that is going to be a big deal. My Stickyman is going to be 12...amazing. Im still in awe of him every day.
When he was born I was a wreck for a while, and seeing him in the NICU was tough on me. I felt like every needle in him, every tube every time he slid backwards was a failure on my part as a mother. Even though I had done everything right, I felt judged because he was born with Downs. Those first few years were soo hard and so scary, but he had come so far and most of the funny stories I have to tell are because of him.
The poop in the heater vent, the peeing off the front porch in his snow boots and boxers, how he is able to tame rampaging hounds with just a click of his tongue and a look, his singing of Reaper and Moves Like Jagger, his God awful sense of humor and flirting with every woman he encounters, showing me his butt pimples, moonings, and his sense of style. He has made my life soo much better and brighter that I wouldn't trade a moment of it.
I managed to get him the one thing he has been begging for since I got him back, an X-Box 360, and though I am rabidly anti-video game, they are actually good for him since they help him develop his hand eye coordination and small muscle control and with most of the stuff I insist on getting being educational, his speech and reading. He is going to lose his mind on Wednesday when he gets to unwrap it and the Kinect that goes with it and I cant wait to see it. He came to me last night before he went to bed and he said, "Dont forget mom, 3 days! August 8! I turn 12! I want an X-box 360 with Lego Batman 2 and Oh, yeah! Cupcakes and Chicken!" Moms got it handled Stickyman, even if everything else is upside down and sideways.

Dear Roger: Pride, In The Name Of Love

I am ridiculously proud of my eldest son and youngest daughter. With all the hoorah over the whole chicken restaurant stupidity, we have had quite a few conversations about faith, compassion, humanity and walking your talk lately. In face we have had quite a few conversations about many deep subjects lately, including bio-ethics, the state of mental health care in this country, and the criminal justice system.
My son is very attuned to things that are going on around him, which to me is surprising considering he is a teenager, a guy and he likes to play his guitar and his video games a bit more than I think practical, but yesterday he really surprised me. He came home from spending the day working with the maintenance crew, following them around learning how to do all kinds of things that he had always wanted to learn how to do, and that are practical skills for someone to have, like light installation, sink installation, lock installation and just general home fixer up stuff. He went in, took a shower and then tells me that for the first time in weeks he is going to church.
I was a bit shocked because he had quit going in disgust over some of the things he was hearing and just some of the doctrine he didn't agree with so I asked him why he was going. He told me, "I think that someone needs to go there and tell them that they are ignoring the real message of Christ. What they are doing and saying is disgusting and I think they need to know that and maybe I can educate some of them about how wrong and hypocritical they are being."
That is exactly what he did. He went to his youth group meeting and he lead a discussion about how the church has lost the true meaning of Jesus's message and that they are losing people because they have lost themselves. My little girl did the same. She was a little less diplomatic, and I have a feeling words like,"Stupid heads" were probably used, but both my kids vented their disgust at the behavior of the so-called Christians who were using fast food as a way to show their hate of a group of people that they are supposed to love if they are truly following the message of the bible,(this is according to my son), I really don't know, I have decided I am Buddhist. My son said he figured as much, but that I have to get the whole desire to stomp a mud hole in wrong-doers asses under control, but that it actually seems to fit me and my philosophy the best.
I asked him if he was going to change churches now that he had seen plain and clear that they seem to really endorse hate and he said,'No, it is my job as a good Christian to change them. Jesus called upon us to help the sinners and that is what I am going to do, I am going to help those sinners, I am going to continue to tell them how wrong they are and Ill be there to quote them the scriptures that they are forgetting when they go talking hate."
He is 16. He was an abused child who has pretty much lived in poverty his entire life. I am not religious at all. I simply taught him that compassion, kindness, love and hope are the things we all need to get through this life because material things don't matter and what people will remember are the deeds you did in your life. He has had to grow up fast, in fact hes working and trying hard to contribute to the family in any way possible, and he has stepped into the father role with his siblings even though he didn't want to, but he has tried hard to be a good example to them.
My little girl came home and was angry that some of her friends were bragging about eating at that place and,"Showing the homosexuals they were bad." She was telling me she told them that people should be free to love who they want as long as they are adults and that hate is wrong. She went on an unfriending spree and told me that if they continued to be,"Ugly" she was going to be Buddhist like me because she just couldn't be part of any faith that had hate in it. She was really upset and distressed over it and concerned because she truly does not understand why there is hate over such things, she has read the Bible and has taken to heart the passage that said,"Love thy neighbor as you love thyself." Mean people also distress her, she cringes down and runs to hide when people get loud or she senses too much tension in the room, its a throwback to the days when there was constant horror in the house, and she wont watch the news when there is yelling and fighting on it, so what had been a sanctuary for her,(church), has become a source of stress because she has been hearing messages of hate about people she knows and loves.
My kids make me proud, all of them. Sticky and Stubby have stayed out of this whole argument other than to say that they didn't know what the fuss was about since we hadn't eaten there in over two years, but they didn't mind if we never ate there again because my chicken was much better anyway.