Dear Roger: How To Make Your Parents Heads Explode

The conversations around here have been pretty interesting lately. My son and I have had more in depth conversations about things in the past few days than we have had in months, and I guess that is a good thing. Last night a friend sent me a picture that made me laugh pretty damn hard and my son looked at it and said,"What the hell is that?" I told him that it seemed to be just one of those things that while being part of personality, is also something that is designed to make parents heads explode. I then asked him when he got older and on his own and decided that I had totally fucked up his life and deprived him of so much, how was he going to show me and the world that he was pissed at me? He thought for a while and he said, "Its pretty damn impossible to shock you, you are tatted up like a biker chick, so those are out.You really wouldn't be pissed or upset if I gauged my ears, you would just make fun of me for having,"Ear Vagina's,or Cat Assholes", you would have a mohawk again if I didn't bitch at you constantly about not cutting your hair so I don't even have that.If I brought home a punk girlfriend you would probably like that because my nice, conservative, Christian, girlfriend annoys the hell out of you. I guess I would have to become a preacher." I just stared at him. I guess hes right. And even the preacher thing wouldn't weird me out too badly. Im very difficult to shock and I guess I have set the bar pretty damn high for rebellion and being an asshole kid.
I am tatted up pretty heavily and planning on getting more as soon as I can afford it. I have always dressed to annoy with objectionable t-shirts and either torn jeans or jeans that are too tight. I really went over the top with my social life with my first husband. I still remember peoples reaction to him in the small town I lived in, some would actually edge away from us in the grocery store line and almost no one would talk to us. If we had tried to live there very long, the poor guy would have lost his mind, luckily we went back to Dallas so we could go back to college pretty quickly and he was just another of the herd there, but talk about family scandal.Then, I really did it, I had a kid out of wedlock. Mohawks, tattoos, drinking, weird clothes, bad men, and getting caught drag racing all paled in comparison to that.
I married a guy who was prospecting for the Hells Angels, actually gave birth to a child with Downs Syndrome and then had more kids. That...that right there, wow...you would think that was the biggest of the big deals. Sticky man. The first kid born in the family with a disability. A very visible disability. The kind of disability that freaks people out for some reason because there is no rhyme or reason to it. We had no warning it was coming. All the tests were normal, nothing showed up anywhere. I knew the minute I saw him though, right before I had my first seizure and tried to bleed out and die; I knew he had it by the reaction of the nurse and how his face looked. The reaction of my family later was what was what really sucked though. Sticky spent 10 days in the NICU fighting for his life, he struggled to breathe and to learn to eat and all kinds of things, and I remember my mom coming to see him once and she met the doc who SAVED MY LIFE! the doc whose fingerprints I still had on my stomach from where he had pressed down trying to stop the bleeding, and instead of being nice and kind to him, she was rude. I asked her,"Why?!" and she looked and me and said,"If he was a good doctor he would have told you there was something wrong with him so you could have done something." Those words have echoed in my head for almost 12 years now. Every time I cuddle my now strappingly handsome and extremely popular young man, I hear them. Even if I had known, it wouldn't have made a difference, not that I have a strong opinion on abortion other than its none of my damn business what a woman decides to do with her body, but that I go by the thought that everyday my kids go out into the world, something could happen that could leave them altered. He could have been born perfect and suffered an injury on the way home and been brain damaged, would I have gotten rid of him then? You don't get rid of a kid just because they aren't exactly what you bargained for. All of my kids can be real pains in the ass at times, but I love each of them fiercely and they are my soul reason for life. I look at each of them and see them as human beings that will someday go out into that world and make a mark that I hope they can be proud of, and I know that they haven't had the best of starts and maybe they will bear me some ill will for that. My daughter has spent half her life without a father and the one she has didn't want her and acts like shes an after thhought when hes around, and that worries me because little girls need a daddy. My boys have had more time around him and they didn't do well because of it, with anger and bullying coming out against their sister so strongly that I had to intervene and get them in counseling. My eldest? Hes never had a father. Never had a consistent male role model around to lead him to the right way, but yet, hes my gentleman. His behavior around his girlfriend is old school, courtly. He opens doors for her, serves her first, he reads to her and sings to her and he wont cuss in front of any woman or girl except for me. He is the epitome of a Southern gentleman and I don't know how the hell that was managed. I know I worked hard when he was young to instill those values in him, I just didn't realize they stuck. I am finding out that they did. I hear from my kids teachers and people around them, that my other kids behave the same way. My daughter is unfailingly polite and even curtseys when introduced to a crowd. She is a a bit of a throwback to another time though and I swear she channels my granny with her requirements that her hair and clothes be,'Done" before she goes out, and her love of fancy dresses with hats and gloves. I hope to God her rebellion against me will be to become a debutant and marry some Baylor grad lawyer or something like that, though with her personality and joi de vie, I have a feeling it will be anything but. Speaking of, she just woke up and informed me its "Pajama Reading day at school and she cannot find Jackson's special blanket." I assume this means this is an emergency for me and I have to go.

Dear Roger: You Wont See Me Picking Up Any Stones

Well, Well, Well! Its just been a busy little week around here now hasn't it? I swear if one more person asks me how my little girl took the news I am going to just issue a press release for her. She was ecstatic. In fact she bounced, a lot. I don't think I have ever heard the word ,"Cute" stretched out soo far. Shes not quite 8. Shes not going to be heartbroken, she loves that boy more like a father figure than anything else. The only thing that got her upset was seeing some of the ugly things people were saying. That made her cry. She doesn't understand why people get upset at things they have no damn business getting upset or involved in. Only people have any business saying anything would be parents, not random fangirls. I finally blocked a few people and kept her off the net for a bit. I managed to distract her by allowing her to start playing with filming things, and unfortunately she likes interviewing and questioning me. She begged and cajoled me into allowing her to film me for a few minutes and her and her older brother uploaded it to my YouTube account. I gave in and posted it to Facebook so my family could see. Its the first they have seen or heard of me in over a year. I'm still the family black sheep so im not sure how it will be received.
My son gave me the raised eyebrow over this whole bit of drama that transpired over the past few days and he finally said,"Well, im waiting for the lecture about how you would cut them off and wear them for earrings if I ever did anything like that." I just smiled at him and said,"My work is done." But then we really did have a talk about things and how really, I am not one to judge. I brought home a Lebanese Shiite Muslim for my 1st husband and it lasted for 5 years before we divorced and then I had a kid with and Iranian rocket scientist who I didn't marry.I was a train wreck through the 90's with one failed relationship after another and alcohol was my best friend. I have lived my life reveling in being the black sheep, the weirdo and the tattooed, pierced, difficult child of dubious sexual proclivities. I was lucky to not end up at the bottom of Lake Ray Hubbard, I ran with a man who met 13 of Hares 21 characteristics of a serial killer in the mid 90's and I ended up with a son out of it and in hiding for 14 years. I was a cop who could out drink Marines and who partied with Hells Angels and I had a death wish that came damn close to getting granted a few times. I have known very nice, wonderful, classy people that I feel honored to have called my friends and I have known stone cold killers that still leave me wondering why they left me breathing. I drank, screwed and fought my way though most of my life, but I never, ever, did drugs and that was my one saving grace. I have spent the years since my kids came along, atoning for my past fuckery and trying to be a better person. I don't have much faith in God because God has always seemed to enjoy taking away those I love and need the most, when I most need them, so I tend to have a hate/hate relationship with him, but I don't share that with my kids. I send my kids to church and my daughter seems to have landed on his good side.She prays a lot, mainly for that boy, and often for me, but never for anything for herself. She is truly a decent kid. My son tells me that because I have always been very open and honest with him about what I was like as a kid and the mistakes I made, that he actually has learned and from it and he doesn't want to make those mistakes. I'm a good, bad example and I am good with that.I tell him not to judge, people have lives that they keep quiet and don't share with the world for a reason. Lots of people don't understand why I do the job I do, but i am not my job, its just a means to an end. Its not who I am. My kids are who I am and what I am all about.
My son tells me that hes glad hes able to talk to me about things and that his friends know they have a safe haven here. Things are coming to a head with one of his friends and I am going to end up caught in the middle and its going to be terrible, but I wont see a kid on the street because hes gay. The parents are very conservative religious to the point they have blocks on the tv and internet, blocks on what he has been allowed to read and talk about. His whole life has been strictly indoctrinated to believe that what he is is an abomination and hes at the age where he knows that hes been told wrong.He talks to me quite a bit about things and I know he is stressed and frustrated and deeply angry at his parents. They sent him to a private school thinking it would cut off all contact with the social media and world around him, and instead, it expanded it. He wants more. I've seen him with another boy and he actually looked happy for the first time in years. His father would lose his mind.Hes been hinting at it for years, but I was the first one to pick up on it and when I asked, he didn't deny.I made sure he knew he had support, no matter what. My son seems to be accepting of it, though he has made really sure his friend isn't attracted to him, unlike the other boy who is attracted to my son.Its a huge damn mess and I worry about all of them, but I keep an eye on them and I make sure that they eat and have a warm place to get in out of the cold and that they aren't drinking or doing drugs. I also let them know I am always willing to listen or talk if they need. I keep the booze out of the house, as well as the cigarrets.
It feels sometimes like I have turned into a good two shoes in my old age, I don't drink, and reading the comments and tweets from moms who are home with kids and constantly talking about all the drinking they are doing, kinda freaks me out. I mean, I could not imagine trying to deal with my brood drunk, they would thrash the world. I remind them to stay healthy and to make good choices, much like I try to do myself. Being a parent is a life changing and deeply personal event. It can evoke a change at a fundamental level in a person and it either makes or break you. Mine didn't really occur until my daughter was born and we both nearly died. She was unwanted by her father, I was facing a war at home, and I changed inside. I found my reason, everybody eventually does, and no one has the right to say what form a persons reason will take and when they will find it. Mine saved me from myself and from a doomed life and for that I am grateful every day I share the sunshine with her and the rest of my kids.

Dear Roger: Who Picked Out The Color Scheme? Monkeys? Funny You Should Ask...

My decor has issues. Right now my 7ft long, black,(but oh how I wish it was brown bomber leather with wood framing, couch, has two furry bodies on it. One, a teen boy who knows how much I hate it when he sleeps on my couch in his shorts and wife beater and sweats into the cloth, and the other? The long-haired, shedding,grey and dilute tabby(most certainly NOT BLACK),cat that the ex abandoned with us. Spencer is at least asleep on the floor for now, though once there is room, he will quickly try to gain a spot on the couch. I have crimson accent pillows on the couch. The son wanted purple.I cant say I am a fan of purple. I like red and since I was buying them, red won. I have a nice, dark wood coffee table that I got at a garage sale from a Russian lady who also cut me a smoking deal on an old battered trunk and ceramic sculpture that I liked.
I have what may or may not be a Stickley chair that the kids refer to as,"The ugly--assed, butt killing, hobbit seat" and another antique steamer trunk in the living room that our tv sits on. We have hats and metal wings and a cross and mirrors and concert posters all over the place, and monkeys...there are fucking monkeys EVERYWHERE.
They are not really noticeable at first, but once you hang out for a bit, you start to notice them. My Texas star in the dining room has a small plastic monkey climbing up it, and my daughter has managed to stick monkey stickers,(courtesy of a friend of mine), on most any surface you could think of. There are sock monkeys hanging out in odd places like my boots, and then there are pictures and concert posters for the band the 100 Monkeys all over the place. Even the boys room is not unscathed.
I used to be very organized with my color schemes in my dwellings, I like burgandys and earth tones and woods and the like and even leather and just natural looking colors and materials that almost seem as if I was trying to lure in a man with a man cave style trap. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't, but I liked it. Now though? My home is an explosion of noise and a riot of colors. There is a monkey shower curtain! My black shower curtain was taken down and hidden and there are monkeys climbing palm trees over a PURPLE rug in my bathroom. A purple rug? Yeah...my towels dont even match anymore. I was told that was,"Boring". I have blues in all shades and a khaki, and a green and then it deteriorates from there into PINKS and TURQUOISE! and the hand towels are blood red with black wash clothes. I miss my black towels.
I have to share a room with my daughter. I have a red comforter from Ikea and some plaid sheets, occasionally some black or red ones slip into the mix, but her? She mixes and matches and she has some she calls,"Monkey fur", they are brown and they are polar fleece, they dont match her Paul Frank monkey face comforter that is an absolute riot of colors. She has pictures of that boy,(Jackson Rathbone) all over the room, and her monkeys and her art supplies are everywhere. I had to toss paint brushes and her monkey out of my bed the other night so I could go to sleep, she was not pleased to find him not tucked in properly,(I feared for my safety), so I made sure to apologize...to the gnarly stuffed monkey. There are bandannas and boots and drawings and now, worst of all? GLITTER! GLITTER ON MY STUFF! She is making him a Valentine. Its huge. Its currently all over my damn desk, displacing my wireless printer and my books. She has an easel, but its not good enough. Glitter...Did I mention I am glitter phobic? She got it on her older brother the other day. I didn't tell him. I enjoyed a private laugh all day long.
The boys room has dragons and super heroes and monkeys and Spencer Bell posters in it, along with bright orange sheets and purple blankets.
I guess I shouldn't complain, when the ex was here, he hated all the,"Weird crap" we had all over the place and the monkeys and the mirrors and clocks annoyed him. That was wonderful. He wouldn't let me paint the house when we were together. When he went away, I walked through the house painting every room and even sometimes every wall a different color.My world was spent so long seeing nothing but the dull grays and tans that he forced upon me, and now that my life is a riot of colors and craziness,(and yes, monkeys), I guess I will just roll with it, though I still am glitterphobic and probably always will be.

Dear Roger: Situation Normal, Back To The Weird

Hes gone! No, I didn't act out,"Keep Awake". I only threatened it, obviously very, very, convincingly. He got tired of living in his van down by the Willamette river and freezing his ass off and he decided to go back to Ventura where he could live with his aunt and whine about what an evil person I am to people who will be sympathetic to him.He worked hard to get Stubby all upset and emotional before he left so I would have a mess to deal with, and it almost worked, but I countered by giving Stubby a computer. Check and mate. Stub didn't even really notice he was gone. He called today to gloat about how warm and nice it is in Ventura,and all I could say was,"Thats nice, enjoy it. Its cold here, so make sure you don't come back." We celebrated after he left. Seriously. Actually put music on and danced our asses around. It was like the clouds left. It was an expensive lesson to me. All my bills are higher now and he wasn't shy about helping himself to food and whatever else he thought he needed. He tried to take my copy of Blazing Saddles on dvd and it about got really ugly. He did take my Gangs of New York(BASTARD!!), but I will replace it some day. He took the video camera too saying that it wasn't fair for Stevie to have it when the boys didn't have something similar to play with. Whatever. She has my Iphone to use and with him gone, shes actually excited about getting back into making videos.
Work has been weird. The new manager and I have reached an agreement and we have sort of bonded over our mutual dislike of a few of the residents. Misery loves company kind of situation as it is. I'm not working a lot, and that's fine with me, it gives me time for my writing and for my kids and my goofy dog.
I wont be able to go to my 25th High School reunion while I work on getting our economic situation back to rights, but I kinda knew once he showed up, everything was going to go to hell. I count it lucky that we didn't lose our apartment and that things didn't end up worse than they did. My eldest made sure to search the back porch and storage shed to make sure he hadn't forgotten any paraphernalia for the kids or anyone else to find and we threw away the any junk he left behind, which wasn't much, because anything he can sell he makes damn sure to take with him for just that purpose. His parting gift to me was to break the large ceramic pot I had on the back porch. I asked him if that was really necessary and he yelled at me,"Oh, like I ruined your fucking life by doing that?!" I just had my eldest haul it to the trash and counted it as yet another casualty. He left his cat with us. I don't know how long we will be able to keep her, but shes a decent cat who doesn't tolerate much of Spencers B/S before she smacks him on the end of the nose with on really sharp clawed paw. Speaking of Spencer, he is getting huge and he really is getting better with his manners other than he likes to sit on people, and at nearly 70 lbs at 6 1/2 months, hes no light weight.Hes no Fergus, and I still mourn him constantly, but he really tries to please and hes fun to watch and he likes the kids quite a bit. Hes pretty intelligent but, good Lord does he ever have the bloodhound stubbornness. He does things sometimes that remind me of Ferg and I have to walk away from him because the kids don't like to see me cry,and that's exactly what happens, for example, if I sit and stare at my computer too long without moving, (like a partial/complex), he will come and start trying to climb into my lap or he will just butt me with his big ole head just like Ferg would do. I don't know if they think that kick starts my brain again or what, but most of the time its just annoying me when I'm trying to think of how I want the next part of the story to progress, but its nice to be noticed by someone I guess.

Dear Roger: Its Always A Matter Of Who Blinks FIrst

Yesterday was quite a day. Work, frankly, sucked.I said yesterday in my letter that my job is menial and beneath me, and its true, but mostly I enjoy the mindless nature of it. I have a few things I require to do it, and yesterday when I went into the office to get them, they were gone. The whole office had been rearranged with all the furniture packed into the back storage area like it was being prepared for a battle instead of greeting potential clients. I looked for my tools but nada...poof! They were gone. I went ahead and started my work anyway, talking to residents I ran into along the way, doing my thing as usual. Got done and went back to the office to ask where my tools were and the new boss said,"Dont know!" she said it in a very sarcastic and abrasive manner as if she was challenging me to have a problem with it. I told her I wouldn't be able to finish the other job I need to do without my tools and she said,"Ok!"
It was all very odd and off putting. The she said she didn't want me storing my tools anywhere in the office or the maintenance sheds, that I should leave them outside by the door. I told her that they would get stolen, that they have gotten stolen before and had to be replaced and she said,"I dont care, then that is what I will do. I will replace them." That pissed me off. I pay pretty God Damned high rent living in this complex and its attitudes like that, where,"Money is no object lets not be careful with the tools or other items we have and let the crackheads steal them we will just replace them." thusly adding it to the bottom line, pissed me off.I kinda snapped. I didn't leave my tools by the door outside. I went and locked them in the laundry area and I called her boss and I said,"Look, I dont know what her problem is, other than she doesn't like me. I am doing my job as best I can and all I asked for is a few reasonable accommodations for health and safety. She has removed my tools, either hidden or thrown away some of them and she is refusing to let me put my other tools in a safe place so they dont get stolen. If you are going to fire me, some one needs to pull the trigger and do it, but the hostile work environment needs to cease and I need to be able to do my job without being harassed if you dont intend to fire me. I wont quit. So we need to come to some kind of terms." Yeah...fun phone conversation. I was pissed. The big bosses are coming over here this morning to meet with me. I am already working on my resume. Glad I dont have to work.
In other news, the ex leaves for Ventura tomorrow!!! Yeah! He said,"Its too fucking hard to live in Portland! I dont see how you do it!" Yeah...especially with 4 kids and no child support? Its called a wing and a prayer and no luxuries. I know at least 20 recipes for chicken and rice or beans and rice and we can all walk distances that would kill him.He wonders why all of us have shoes or boots that the soles are worn off of? We walk and walk and walk.
Im glad hes going. I think my stress level will drop precipitously, even if I am unemployed in a couple of hours.

Dear Roger: Arrogant Much?

Okay...I have a bit of an ego.I try not to let things get to me because I have kids to support and responsibilities, but I have worked hard to achieve the things I have achieved in my life, and in spite of a fuckton of hassles and adversity, I have achieved quite a bit. I have a college education. Roughly half a Masters degree. I could go back and finish it if I wanted to throw good money after bad, but I really dont see the point.I have been an EMT, a Firefighter, a Cop, a Forensic Investigator, and I have all kinds of certifications and awards for shit that does me absolutely no good at this point in my life, but you know what? I earned them. I have survived a nutball ex putting a gun to my head and a straight razor to my throat. Ive rolled a truck down the side of the I-40 in a blizzard 4 times and lived to walk away...sort of unscathed. I have not turned into a ravening, drug addicted, alcoholic loser like I have seen others do. I am (relatively), sane. I volunteer with several charitable organizations, I send my kids to church. I dont drink more than maybe one or two beers every few months, I dont smoke and I never do drugs. Im in good shape and I have managed to keep my children housed, clothed and provided for in a suitable manner. So, you can see why I think I have good reason to be pretty damn proud of myself at this point in my life. I choose to work a job that is significantly below my ability because it allows me to be home for my kids and it was fairly low stress. My last boss and I were friends and it was a relaxed atmosphere for me, as it should be, because this business it not rocket science.
Then things changed, as things tend to do. I hate change. I dont do change well. This new person seems to equate my choice of job with being ignorant or somehow beneath her. Ohhhhhooo.....that does not go over well with me. I dont deal well with snobby/snotty people. I find they are usually disguising some really significant defects in their person. The more rudely I am treated, the more expansive my vocabulary becomes until it reaches the point that they most likely need to break out the dictionary to understand me. I start to let my education show and it just spirals out of control. I've lost jobs over it before. I had a boss who thought I was a dumb blonde until he pissed me off. People don't like to be made to feel stupid. I made him feel extremely stupid on a daily basis for about a week until I was let go.
I knew a guy with 2 Phds who worked changing tires in Fort Worth in the 90's because the Defense industry was struggling. Mahmoud was a great guy who was super smart, but he had kids to support and when it came to them, he didnt care how much education he had or how many letters he had behind his name, he went to work and earned the money.He did well until he was disrespected.He got another job that paid better and he ended up buying the tire company he had worked at and he fired the manager who had disrespected him.
Im not that invested in this job. I wont quit. Ill still go to work every day, follow the job description to the letter and get it done and limit my conversations with my boss to what is required, but I may start to let things show after all, if get fired, I was looking for job when I got this one and maybe it would be just the nudge I needed to get into the field I want to be in.
Im arrogant. Always have been. I am a true and loyal friend of those who treat me with respect, but the minute I am condescended to or treated with disrespect? Pfft! All bets are off. Im not a ,"Kid" anymore. Im 42 freaking years old. I have delivered babies and held the hands of people as they died. Ive seen murder and mayhem and fought people for my life and the lives of others. I fought fires, lost friends and most of my loved ones. I choose to try and maintain a young at heart attitude, but my heart is not young. It battered and bruised and dark and cold and its deserves to be treated with a little God damned respect, even if it is working a menial job beneath its abilities.

Dear Roger: Equitable Distribution of Affection

Almost every parent who has more than one child has been accused of playing favorites. Some do and are very blatant about it, telling one child that they are the,'Smart one" and that the other is the,'Pretty one" or showering one child with fancy make up and clothes and indulgences. Its not easy to be a parent, in fact there are times it flat sucks. When you have a special needs child, they require a lot of time and energy and dedication to keep their needs met and to help them succeed so they will be able to survive in the world when you are gone. When you have boys, you have to worry about making sure they don't do the wrong things and end up in trouble or making mistakes that get them labeled as troublemakers or worse, and when you have girls, you have to worry about every dick in the world trying to take advantage of them.
I stress constantly because I have the perfect storm of children, basically all of the above. I have already screwed up with one daughter and I failed her. I was young and stupid and believed people who told me I was incapable of giving her any kind of life. I was made to feel like a loser and a wreck and I took the easy way out and I surrendered. I live with that crushing guilt every single day. I know she is doing great and I talk to her often, but I have to wonder, what if I had said,"Back the fuck off and let me breathe! I will figure this shit out. People do it every damn day!" Maybe I wouldn't have spent the next 20 years filled with self-loathing and guilt as well as a hefty dose of death wish and resentment? Its too late to think about it now, but I have 4 other kids that I have managed to do all right by so far, mostly on my own.
My eldest son is designing his own websites and writing music to go on them. Hes not on drugs or a criminal and hes never been in any kind of trouble. Hes a good looking, popular, friendly, church-going, well-adjusted, young man who has developed goals and objectives and who has people who look to him for leadership.
My special needs son is healthy, happy and functioning well above what he is supposed to be doing with his disability. Hes got friends and hes popular. Hes friendly, affectionate and a good kid that people enjoy having around.
My next son is above grade level in all subjects and though hes a short man, hes got a giant personality and sense of humor. He struggles because for his father playing him like a violin when he wants something from me, but hes doing well up here and hes healthy and for the most part happy.
My baby girl...off the charts gifted in multiple areas. She writes songs and plays and short stories on the fly and she can tell you more about monkeys and music than you want to know. She dances and sings and has been devoted to the same odd lil fella since she was barely older than 4 years old. Shes kind and compassionate, praying for everyone but herself and she worries about things beyond her ability handle. She has seen things that no child her age should have ever experienced, yet she doesn't ever let it get her down. I thought maybe she didn't remember it, but she does. She told me one day out of the blue,"I don't trust him. He hurt you with at razor in my room and I think he will do it again. I love him because I have to, but he scares me." That she said of her own father. She thinks she has to love him.
We talked about that quite a bit. I told her that love was not an obligation born of blood and familial bonds. You don't have to love someone because you are related to them. You only love those who deserve it, and someone who scares you shouldn't be someone you love.
Her father never wanted her and he treats her different that he does the boys and its really pissing me off more and more. Hes not around as much since I ran him off, but when he is around, he hardly talks to her. He gives all his attention to the boys and she is left standing there feeling like he doesn't care if she is there or not, so often she just walks away. He shushes her or tells her to be quiet and when he leaves to go get something, he rarely takes her. The boys tell her that she cant call herself by the same last name as them because she is more my kid than anything so she should have my last name. Shes okay with that. Shes actually been using my last name off and on for awhile now. I treat all the kids the same and when she gets in trouble, she goes into timeout just as fast as the boys do.
Its hard to keep a balance sometimes because she and I have things we enjoy doing together and things in common we love, so we spend time watching videos together and listening to music or whatever. She tried to get her father to watch the "Live and Kicking Too" video with her and he made it about 20 minutes before he was being an ass, yet he will sit and watch cartoons with the boys for hours. He just doesn't care to even try to have anything to share with her and she senses that and shes ready to quit trying because she knows hes not someone she could ever count on anyway.
I dont play favorites with her, I just try to make up for all the ways shes been failed by somebody else.

Dear Roger: A Swift Kick In The Ass Is A Good Kick Start, For Most

Dealing with my ex often is frustrating and infuriating.I have to try and keep my temper and my mouth shut because if I piss him off, that ends badly for me, but there are times I just really want to vent and try and figure out what the hell is wrong with him?
I managed to finally get his ass out of here a few days ago and it was like a load was lifted off of us. Our food will last longer as will all out household supplies. He didn't see himself as that big of an expense. He was told that he had to lay low when he was around here because he wasn't supposed to be here and he could get me in trouble with the new landlord. He would wait until just before the office was due to open and then he would leave or go out to smoke or do something outside, as if he was deliberately trying to be seen. Very passive/aggressive with no thought to the fact that if he got me evicted, his kids would be out of a place to live as well.
He wont work an on the books, regular job. He claims no one will hire him because hes an excon convicted of a violent crime,(agg. assault with a deadly weapon and kidnapping) against me. But he wont even try. This city caters to the lowest common denominator and they have all kinds of programs for felons and dopers and what not, but he prefers to troll craigslist for whatever.
He seems to have no shame about his choices either. He took the remainder of his silver the other day and he sold it. He bought a little bit of gas and some weed. His reasoning? He needs to the gas to get around,(that is fine, I agree with that), but the weed? He said it helps him relax and not care hes living in his van down by the river.
Never mind the fact his son turns ten in 2 days and he could have bought him some presents. Nope, hes counting on me to handle all that. Just like he had no problem telling me when I offered to buy him an Amtrack ticket to Ventura that if I gave him $200 he could just drive there. Uh...NO! Im not giving him any damn cash.
Here I am supporting all the kids on my own, providing for all their needs and he tells me I could give him $200 to essentially get rid of him.
Im working on filing for full custody. Its just ridiculous that he can show up at my door and say he wants to see the kids, walk into my house and then hang out for 4 hours doing nothing but annoying the hell out of me. Ive been getting all his crap sorted out and stashed outside, hoping he will just show up, pack it up and vanish.
Moving is on hold and while Stevie is disappointed, she realized when he showed up that life was going to be difficult again. She knows he never brings good things. She wants to love him because he is her father, but she sees him for what he is, and that is sad. Stubby is starting to see it and I think that has a lot to do with his issues.
He has such as skewed view of how the world works. He thinks its the woman's job to support the man and take care of everyone and everything because that is all that he has seen and when he is around people who handle it the traditional or balanced way, it upsets him because he realizes his father is not doing his part.
Ive given up trying to change my ex. He never will be changed or fixed. My son and I watch the show "Shameless" and laugh at how much its like out lives and the father is like my ex. He is a good reason to stay single and when people ask me if I feel bad for him living in his van I tell them I don't. I don't get child support. I don't even bother asking for it. He has actually been the one supported. He gets money and he smokes it. He has made poor decisions and he has to live with them. At 54 years old he should be able to handle life better than that. He made his bed, he has to lie in it. I will raise my kids and try to find better examples of how to live and function in life. His own family has refused to help him other than with,"Prayers", and to me, that speaks volumes. I offered to buy him a ticket to Newport News to he could go live with his mom or sister, but he didn't want to go live back there like his brother did,I would rather they see him being a transient than his own kids. Maybe if it gets colder here in many ways, he will finally leave, if not, we may have to find a way to leave ourselves and once again uproot and try to get away from the dead weight of an albatross.

Dear Roger: "Zombified"?

Yesterday was a hell of a day. First I find out that my hours at work have basically been cut in half and that the new manager prefers to do it all herself rather than have an assistant, so I am down to 2 hours a week. I think its their way of trying to get me to quit so they don't have to pay me unemployment, but I will work those two hours until they get tired of the paperwork and terminate me because the hassle is too much. I figured that was coming when I sent an email detailing all the complaints I had about the weird electrical glitches in my apartment and asking if I was going to be compensated for the electrical bill I had been paying for the office for the last 6 months. Its not a deal for me.
I spent my free time yesterday taking Stubby to the doctor for a thorough physical and consultation over some of his issues. Poor guy...hes destined to be a short man his whole life. The doc looked at his growth patterns, my growth history, his fathers height as well as other family history did some computations and measurements and then told poor Stub that it looks like he is going to be between 5'5-5'7 when he is grown. Stub looked at me and he said,"You know I blame you for this, don't you? My dad is tall!" Well...I guess its only fair. Hes actually going to be a little taller than I had expected, so I don't know what hes so upset about . He has really good charisma and a great sense of humor,(most of the time), so hopefully that will serve him well.
I ended up at the doctor yesterday as well. Ive had a headache for a couple of days because of all the stress and b/s that's been going on and then not sleeping well adding to it left me feeling ragged and weary. I was sitting at the dinner table yesterday morning when my eldest son looked at me and said,"What the hell, mom?!Your eye is sick looking!" I looked in the mirror and it turns out that half of my right eye was blood red for some reason.I have no idea what happened to it. I haven't been coughing I didn't scratch it. I just woke up with it like that. Coupled with the headache it was enough to make me decide it was time to get things checked out.
I went and at least got my blood pressure checked, (not too bad), and got offered a shot to break the headache(I declined), but other than that the doc who was filling in for my regular doc was just pretty damn useless. I get to go back in two weeks to see my regular doc that I really don't like that much to see if she has any ideas of why I am suddenly busting blood vessels in my eye.
The effect was pretty cool on my younger kids when they saw it. Stevie was worried I was becoming a zombie and as a way to pay her back for messing with my coffee the other day, I sat in my chair and muttered,"Braaaaaaiiiiinnnsss" at her every time she walked by. Later I pretended to gnaw on the head of her gnarly stuffed monkey,'Jackson" but she found that funny and she laughed and tried to actually shove that nasty thing in my mouth. She chased me through the house with it for a while, giggling and telling me it was now a zombie too. The humor is slowly coming back into the house, though my eldest son tells me that the ex came by yesterday looking for something he left here,(knew that was going to happen), and that he was crying about sleeping in the Walmart parking lot. I have a hard time feeling bad for him, but if hes still in pitiful shape at the first of the month Im going to offer him an Am track ticket to Ventura. I doubt he will take it. He wants to take the van and all his junk as well, but I will at least put it out there and then its on him.

Dear Roger: Pirate Monkeys

Its been yet another stressful week. I woke up at 3 am today, sick to my stomach and stressed out of my mind, so damn angry and upset I was making myself actually sick to death. Seriously, I had chest pains and I puked my guts up. Rog, you and I both know what an ominous fucking sign that is for someone like us. Those who tend to have hearts that explode from stress in their mid-40's? yeah...Well, the cause of it was resting peacefully in my sons bed after making my baby girl miserable. He had called her a brat (amongst other things),told me she was a problem child and mean to her siblings. Really? And what had they done to her to piss her off? I had come in from work and found her subdued and sitting on her bed, mopey and not herself at all. He had threatened her Jackson again after making fun of the boy himself earlier in the day in front of her, and it was just more of him being him.He was showing no signs of budging and it was going to cost us our home, my job and if things kept on, things were going to spiral to where they were before, it was already getting that stressful.So, this morning, I got on my best crazy eye glare and I went in and I utilized every little bit of,"Unless you want me to kill you in your sleep" craziness I could muster, I told him,"You need to go. You need to go NOW."
There was little more than that to it. I guess he finally realized I had reached my point and he packed his crap, and doing is level best to make everyone feel sorry for him, he left. Hes living in his van as far as I know, telling everyone how evil I am for only allowing his woman and child abusing ass to stay for free for over 2 months. I really don't care. I've been called worse by better.
Speaking of killing you in your sleep and things of that nature...
The whole SOPA thing really blew up this last week and we managed to get enough of a word out about it that the smart politicians,(is there such a beast?) was really putting their careers at risk trying to take down something so valuable to soo many. But what is odd to me, while I get the supposed intent,"Protecting the poor starving artists from pirates and down loaders" the subterfuge that was written into that bill was chilling. I agree that those who copy movies and music and deprive the artists of financial gain are a problem and should be dealt with, but that bill was like, as one person put it, trying to deal with cat who peed on the bed by blasting a box of kittens with a flamethrower."
Much of the music I listen to and BUY today, I would have never heard of or given the time of day if some pirater hadn't recorded them, uploaded it to youtube before it went neutered, and then sent me that link to that weird little song that makes homicide sound so damn cute and catchy. Seriously, I wouldn't have given them a shot mainly because I was of the opinion that all bands that had actors in them sucked by default and were lame and uncool and couldn't possibly be talented.I would have patted Stevie on the head and considered her just another Beiberite wannabe, and that would have been that, but nope...I clicked on that link and I thought, WHAT THE HELL?
Then later I heard more uploaded songs that left me thinking the same thing about the same time I realized that them boys were kinda purty and that maybe my daughter had the right idea. Soo, I ordered a couple of cd's from them,(and maybe bought a few of the lil dudes movies), and I started paying attention. Then, even well, of course there were t-shirts, and more movies we stumbled across and that concert. We didnt have two dimes to rub together, but we BOUGHT tickets to a concert to see a band that I would have blown off as a bunch of douchey kids once upon a time. We had been telling people about them which led to buying their stuff as Christmas presents for friends, supporting their side projects, including helping fund the release of a movie they made, then more music was bought, then a side band was born and needed love and with that came HATS!their causes were supported and that involved much more music and money. It would be cheaper to have just adopted 5 extra men.
When I borrow a book I love, I often go out and buy it for my library.When I see a movie I like? I buy the dvd so I can watch it anytime, and when I get out of the stone age, I will buy the digital downloads. Most of what I have spent money on in the last few years, I would have never heard of if not for the internet because I dont have cable tv. I dont go out to the theaters often, and when I do, its often because Stevie has dragged me to see something Jackson is in or its a Harry Potter thing, so I dont see very many trailers. I dont get the paper at home and I dont socialize because I am a "misanthropic asshole" to quote my ex. I work hard for the money I have and as I writer I know it sucks to get your ideas ripped off, but you dont call in a carpet bombing on your position to eliminate a problem, especially when there is so much friendly fire potential. Maybe I am over-simplifying the issue, but I know this is how myself and many others out here in the big ole net saw it, and I am glad I have those cute little weird guys in my life along with all the others that the ripple effect they created has helped to support.

Dear Roger:Well Isnt That Special?

It has been a busy week around here. I spent most of Friday at Doernbecher Downs Syndrome clinic with Sticky as they gave him a good going over and evaluation. I was pleased to discover he is at perfect weight and is considered above average intelligence for a child with Downs, so I was very proud of him. He was a bit of a handful though be cause there were scads of pretty young ladies wandering around and since he entered puberty, he is all about the ladies.
Its a bit disconcerting having an almost 12 year old with Downs.He still requires supervision in some places such as the shower because he finds it highly amusing to coat the bottom of the shower with his brothers fancy body wash and then go sliding around, or he will shower with the curtain open. He also likes to experiment with flushing different objects or peeing in unique places, so yeah...supervision is still a must. I try to get his big brother to handle it, but hes not around very much so it falls to me. He finds it amusing to moon me or to show me his latest hairs. Hes growing a mustache to go with his armpit hair and he is very proud of all of it. Who knew boys found such things to be so important? He wants to show it to everyone and its lucky I have very fast reflexes because I barely prevented multiple flashing's.
Teaching him to keep his privates, private is an ongoing task, but he is a quick learner and with the resources that we have found behind him, he will soon be achieving even more.
There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to the albatross,it looks like he is finally going back to Ventura! His uncle had a heart attack or something and needs him to come back and take over his drywall business because they just got a huge job in Malibu and another one in Ventura as well as several others in and around the Hollyweird area. While I envy him getting to move to the sun and vibrance of Cali, I am glad he is soon to be gone. I have found another possibility for an apartment down in the area I want to move to and I am going to go look at it on Monday.
I am hoping the apartment will be a better fit because it actually has wood flooring and wood flooring would be a better option for Spencer,(my dog) because apparently he has allergies. Its not enough I have a special needs kid, oh no...I have a special needs dog as well. I have had him to the vet several times over the past few weeks for constant scratching and breaking out in a rash. We had him tested for mange, treated for a skin infection and various other issues, put him on a special diet that makes him smell like fish,(gag), and I have washed his bedding several times over as well as vacuumed a couple times a day to keep any dust mites down.I took him back to the vet today and found that he now weighs a little more than my daughter and he is otherwise healthy except for the fact he is now on Prednisone for his itching. If that doenst stop the rash, we will be trying another treatmetn for a skin disorder that is expensive. If its not one thing, its another.
Im still employed, so far. There has been a lot of upheaval there and im not really happy lately. The new boss arrived late this last week just as I found that the company I work for is trying to charge me a $75.00 late fee for $5.00 discrepency in my rent. I underpaid one month by 25.00, realized my mistake and brought in the other money, paid $20. and then $5.00. The 5 didnt get recorded by them in their records for some reson so I had to track down the reciept and prove I paid it. I did that and then they sent me notice that I owed them $75.00 because the $5.00 was late. I dont know, to me that seems a bit excessive considering I pay the office electric bill without compensation and I have handled lockouts after hours without charging them for it. This may be a deal killer for me if they force the issue. To me that seems to be a bit of an excessive interest rate, $75.00 for $5.00? Its really made me less willing to put forth any extra effort or to really be enthusiastic about my job or even living here, of course I have been wanting to move for months and this has just really lit a fire under me. Its just not the same around here. I never have been a suburban person and getting moved will be good for me, I am looking forward to being in a new place with new faces and not knowing all the stupidity that goes on around me.

Dear Roger:Monkey Mission...Possible? At Least In Her Eyes It is

"Mom! Mom! Get up!You have to get me some glitter!You promised me you would help me make Jackson his Valentine and I really need to get to work on it or it will be rushed and messy, and I really dont like it when I have to rush!" All this was directed at me Saturday morning,(the one day of the week when I normally get to sleep in and be a lazy slug a bed, but nooo! Not this Saturday. I had her sitting on me, holding on to my chin so she could stare right into my eyes, to let me know the intensity of the issue.
"Mom? Are you listening? Hes been really quiet lately, maybe hes sad? I dont want him to be sad!Come on mom! We have to get the glitter so I can get this done."
The child knows its a month before Valentines day. She also knows I am glitter phobic, as in I really hate the stuff and wont allow it in the house normally because it gets on every damn surface and sticks forever, rendering it sparkly. But, then again, I promised her and she knows, I keep my promised to her and my kids and I will move heaven and earth to see them through. So while I managed to stall her long enough to allow me to get a cup of coffee, I had to help her find where she had put her sketch pads and then I had to listen to her pitch ideas for her grand card until she got distracted by her brother Sticky who wanted his fingernails painted,(dont ask), so she went off to give him a mani/pedi and I was left in peace and glitter free for a few more hours.
She believes I can do anything, and because of her I do try harder. The albatross finally has realized this,"Job" he has been going to is nothing but a scam and he has admitted its a wasted of time.So this leaves me dealing with someone who has no means of support, no resources and nothing to lose. Ugh. Im still proceeding along trying to get moved to the school district that is best for my little girl because I promised her and she reminds me of that. Her brothers want to go with us now so I have had to look for a bigger apartment which means a lot more money, but I have found one and applied for it. If all goes well, I should know in a few days if I got it and if Im going to be able to swing it financially. I know I want out of where I am at.Living where you work is just not any good, and knowing some of the things I know has just made it even more obvious that I need to move my kids out of here.
She believes I can do it and I cant let her down. She has been let down a lot by her father, in fact she doesn't expect anything from men at all, but she damn sure expects me to follow through and that's a lot of pressure at times.
I dont know when the world changed so much that it became okay for men to be seen as weak, losers, and not expected to contribute very much, but that is my daughters perception of things. She sees me as the one who takes care of business and who makes things happen. I am the one who fights the battles and fixes things.She doesn't respect her father at all and it has colored her whole attitude about men. I guess that might be a good thing in the long run, she will never sit around and wait to be rescued by a Prince Charming, hell! shes always worried about rescuing hers right now. Worried hes sad or not eating or getting hurt or whatever, but while that is okay, I am glad she is going to be a strong and tough lil chick who takes care of things, I find it sad that she doesn't believe in a knight in shining armor. I would wish that for her, and I try to point out that my sister has that, even though hes a slightly dented knight, she did eventually get found by one, but my sis still did, so maybe, just maybe, they are still out there, but I dont want her to wait for one.
Shes not going to be distracted away from the glitter for very long. I dread that. My bed was covered in art supplies the other day and she is really preparing for some grand gesture for that boy once again. Shes been wandering around song writing again as well, but I told her no videos this time, my nerves cannot handle it. The one she has out there now is over 18k hits and growing, that makes her very happy for some reason and I think I have a gray hair for each and every view, so I have told her the song will have to be in poem form and she can write it out on her card and I will mail it, but that's it for now. That got me quite a sad face, but she will deal. I have heard rumblings that maybe they will start doing shows again and if they wander up this way, we will be there, she will be front and center and all will be good.

Dear Roger: Is Somebody Trying To Tell Me Something?

I have been asked by a few folk who are not schooled in the writings of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, why I call my ex, the Albatross. If you have ever read,"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" you would get that I see him as my harbinger of bad luck, my unlucky burden that I am stuck with. The stress is getting to me at times, and yes, I am hostile, very, very, hostile. Not a good place for me to be mentally. My hair is starting to fall out, my insomnia is back with a bloody vengeance, and I have taken to taunting him. Yes, I am a bitch. Its hard to be nice to someone you hold in absolute contempt. I actually dont respect very many men, in fact, other than you and my grandpa and pawpaw, I really cant think of any man that I held in absolutely high esteem or regard. They have all let me down. They are all lacking in some way. Him in more than a few. Hes fat, lazy, a whiner, and he spends more time trying to get around being responsible than he would actually doing the right thing.
I've been an enabler, and im done with that. Hes spending most days away from the house, which is a blessing, but he comes in around supper time, eats and acts like hes in a hotel. Hes sleeping in my teen sons bed, and hes supposed to be taking over the apartment, but considering I paid all the bills this month, including buying all the household things like soap and shampoo and things like that, I dont see him stepping up. I had to spend all my moving money to support everyone and he seems to have no plan. I have a plan. I have goals. I have a job that pays a real wage. He is a burden, 280lbs of dead weight that is driving me to the brink of insanity.
I found myself standing in my kitchen the other night, late, after everyone had gone to sleep and I was ragey and annoyed that my kitchen had been left a mess with dishes stacked up on the counter. I was at the sink wishing him harm. Angry to the point of tears when I felt a very distinct strong pat on my shoulder. I froze. There was no one awake in the house. I was alone, stressing by myself. It was comforting but distressing at the same time. Am I losing my mind? I decided it was time to just go to bed and pull the covers up over my head and sleep until morning.
Later in that week, I was up late with my eldest son, we were having a very intense discussion about the situation. It was actually almost a bitter fight that is only inspired by the albatross. We were saying hurtful things and my heart was breaking as we sat there in the wee hours, each of us unrelenting in our suppositions that we were correct. All of the sudden, the speakers next to us began playing very softly the song,"Black Diamond" by the 100 Monkeys. My ipod was shut off. In fact the switch on it was set to the locked off position because the cats tend to step on it and run the battery down. The speakers had been shut off as well. My son and I both looked at each other, neither moving, both a little freaked out.
"What the hell, mom?" He was goggle eyed as he looked at the Ipod and showed me the blank screen and the locked off position, yet the music was still playing. He gingerly unplugged it, and I think both of us had decided that if the music continued to play we were leaving home and not coming back, but it stopped. The music broke the fight, and we made out peace for the night, both sleeping on what we were fighting over and deciding to start fresh the next day.
The next time was a little more attention getting and more personal. At 0230 in the morning, I was sound asleep in my bed when I was awoken by the sounds of my favorite Spencer Bell song,"The Stars Are Mighty Bright Tonight". It was loud. Loud enough it woke me up. In my groggy mental state I was prepared to go yell at my son who I thought was listening to music too loud. I had forgotten he was spending the night at a friends house. I staggered into a dark living room to find my previously disconnected Ipod, connected to the speakers, but still showing off and in the locked off position, playing the song, loudly. I gently reached down and unplugged it. The shut the speakers back off. Checking all rooms finding all family and others asleep in their beds. Soo...what the hell? Am I finally losing my mind? Im fine with that. Going completely off the rails would probably be a good thing right about now. It would be like a nice vacation from the suck.
The one really positive side effect of the whole iPod thing going on is that now my kids wont touch my iPod or the Bose for love nor money, convinced they are possessed or something. That is a win for sure.

Dear Roger:Unscrewing The Screwed(And I Dont Mean Screwed In a Fun Way)With Limited Tools

I fucked up. I think it is my martyr complex masochistic tendencies that led me to do it, but do it I did and now I am so totally fucked that I dont know what I am going to do to begin to unfuck it without resorting to some kind of destruction of the epic kind.
When my worthless, albatross, ne'er do well, couldn't hold a responsible job if his life depended on it always looking for the next get rich quick scheme, makes the step father in the movie,"This Boys Life" look like a saint, EX, lost the house in Flag and ended up homeless, I figured that it was his own damn fault, he had the cheapest house payment in Arizona and almost no bills, he could have gotten off his ass and gotten a real job but he thinks working in places like Wal Mart and whatever are beneath him, so instead he loaded up all the stuff that he thought was important and he headed my direction, getting my sons all excited because even though he is a bastard to them half the time, they don't see him as a problem, hes their father and they love him. The dont care that they hadn't had decent clothes or shoes or a Christmas of things like that when he had them, he bought them soda and ice cream and let them play video games all day, all things I cut out when they got here.
He sold everything out of the house to fund his trip here, all my appliances, my furniture, my decor and my books and things that I had collected over the years, all he put in storage was a couple of my paintings and a couple of my antiques I threatened to end him over if he sold. My things were sold, his junk that he collected and hasn't even used in 10 years, he brought with him, along with a dog and a cat that he knew we couldn't keep.
He arrived right before Thanksgiving, creating as much drama as he could, and right away I got made the bad guy because the dog had to be found a new home, which luckily it did, a great home, much better than he had ever given it. All his junk was just piled into my sons room even though he swore it was just for a week or so and then,"Things were gonna happen". Thats been then story ever since.
The things that have happened is that my stress level is through the roof. I let him in because my sons begged me to for the holidays. I felt sorry for him because he was homeless even though he had been given a home and everything. I wanted my sons to be happy, so I let in a man who I put in prison for trying to kill me just 4 short years ago. Im on edge all the damn time. Hes supposedly got a good job that is going to make him the money to allow him to take over this apartment so I can move down to a neighborhood with a better school for gifted kids, but I have seen no progress. He hasn't brought in any money.Imagine, no child support and instead supporting the 280lb food blister that makes shitty comments about you constantly.
I was sitting on the couch with my daughter the other night looking at dresses on the Betty Page website, he walks by and says, "I dont see why you are looking at those kind of dresses, you could never carry them off."
10 years of that shit. My daughter looked at him and said,"That was a mean thing to say to my mommy." He told her, "Well, its true, your mommy is not girly at all." My daughter just glared at him and hugged me. And he wonders why she looks up to other men?
He comes in from working this supposed job, eats food, leaves his plate on the counter, and then goes into my kids room and sleeps on my teen sons bed. My teen son has been relegated to the couch which means the living room is unusable once he needs to go to bed and its become tense over that. Getting him to help is getting harder and harder and last night was really bad. He had been helping with Spencer a little because he likes dogs. He was eating the last of the dinner and Spencer needed out, in fact had been bugging him pretty hard, he ignored him to mess with his iphone and Spencer wet in the floor in the dining room and he tried to yell at my son. I got in the middle of it and told him that while I had also worked all day at a job that paid actual money and contributed to the support of the family, I had then come home and cooked dinner and cleaned house, my son had watched children all day and had taken the dog out several times, while he, he had come in, sat down and eaten the last of the food and done nothing but complain. He just whined,"Well Im sorry I come in tired!" God knows driving around and sitting in a truck looking at Facebook is hard, I guess he doesn't realize we can see him?
I have to get shed of this cancer. I don't know how to do it. I moved a thousand miles away, gave him everything and didn't ask for anything except peace and quiet, and I cant even get that from him. I refuse to continue to support him. I only support the ones I love and he is not even within that galaxy. I just have to figure out how to unfuck what I have so badly fucked up, and yes, it is my fuck up. I made the classic mistake that I used to see as a cop, I allowed the bastard back in, now I have to get him out, even if I have to take my kids and move again to do it.

Dear Roger: May You Have One Just Like You

I spent the first day of the new year out wandering around with my daughter. We were both a little stir crazy from being stuck in the house with all the boys and we just needed some girl time away from them. Its been bitterly cold outside so going to the park or anything like that was out of the question, so I decided to take her shopping with me for few things I needed for the house. She was excited to get to go shopping without any boys along and I cant say I blame her. She has really been developing her own particular style and while its unique, its not exactly what I like to see my nearly 8 year old daughter aspiring to dress like.
For most of her life she has been a very girly girl, choosing very fancy dresses and carefully put together outfits that always made her look like quite the young lady. She was colorful and stylish and managed to pull of the funky cool vibe of Easter/Punk almost all year round, but now I am noticing she is leaning very much more towards the punk end of things. I was always pretty much like that so I don't have too much of a problem with it, after all, I wasn't too much older than her when I was walking around with a mohawk and skinny jeans with objectionable writing all over them, and a denim jacket with weird patches and safety pins all over it and dog chains on my boots. I made quite the impression, even compelling the more wary in my home town to pull their small children behind them and covering their eyes. I never was really into the tighter all over clothes with heels and things until I was much older, so I guess this may be why I am kinda distressed by my daughters new fashion desires.
She still wants dresses, but the one she was really wanting today was the kind of dress you might see on a 20 something, all backless and cut to show off things that an 8 year old does not have and instead of wanting a pair of boots that went well with her punk pants she wanted a pair of fancy patent leather heels.
I never really learned to walk well in heels.There was a brief period of time in Dallas when I was dating a very classy, wealthy, older man who took me nice places and those nice places required things other than cowboy boots, but I never really enjoyed walking around in those heels and I have a feeling I was more comic relief than anything else when I was wearing them. I don't want my daughter to be that kind of awkward, so I guess its inevitable that it I want her to be able to learn how to act and dress like a lady, I should let her start by learning how to walk in a basic pair of low heels. I drew a line at the dress. Shes is not going to be wearing anything backless as long as I have anything to say about it, and when she drug me down the makeup aisle and started telling me all about the stuff she thought she needed, I think she realized she had lost me.
I really dont have a clue how to wear makeup. Her older brother has worn more makeup in the last couple of years,(guyliner), than I have worn in the past two decades. He would have to be the one to teach her how to use it, and I have already said that she is not allowed to wear anything outside of lip gloss until she is old enough to have a job and earn the money to buy it herself.
She has compelled me to spend more time learning about how to take care of her hair because she insists she wants to keep it long, so I have learned to comb and condition and even a little bit about how to braid it, and for the first time in a long time, I bought hair product that wasnt the cheap kind because she has been complaining about her hair having split ends, (tell the truth, I cant tell what the hell she is talking about), but her brother says she is right. So I have buckled on a lot of things, and I am trying to get more with it about what is girly friendly and such, but I wont cave on a few things and that may annoy her, but there will be no tattoos, no make up, no slutty dresses, and I am still chief of security and retain the right to keep that nunnery in the Irish Sea as my ace in the hole if she starts looking towards California a little too often.
She did throw me a curve ball the other day I really dont know what to do with and this is one that really makes me wish my Paw paw Joe was still alive more than ever, She asked about getting Baptized. I have no idea when is the right age. I dont think shes in the right church for it, but shes been wondering about it. The only one of my kids that are Baptized is my eldest, and he just got it done last year. Im the wrong person to ask and her brother has refused to get involved in it because he thinks it will force me to get into a church, im afraid it will go the other direction that my lack of faith will pull her away from hers, even though she still says her prayers for her loved ones every night.I hope someone will steer us in the right direction or I will find out like so many other things shes trying to do, its too much, too soon and it will wait. I really dont know, but I do know I wish things would slow the hell down!

Dear Roger: If You Give A Kid A Monkey

Talking to my daughter about what she wants in the New Year is kinda a reminder that I may not have failed all my kids totally when it comes to instilling morals and values in them. While she may be a bit of a roughneck at times and prone to popping her brothers in the nose when they steal her Jackson and do crude things to him, she is pretty damn selfless and all of her New Years wishes were for people other than herself. I mean, she said she hopes she gets to see her favorite boy again,(that's a given), but she said,"I want him to eat and sleep and be happy and get all that he wants so he smiles big." For her brothers she vowed to try and not pop them in the nose so much anymore and to try and be patient when they bug her when she is painting or drawing or doing one of her plays. She also vowed to be better about combing her hair and keeping clothes on.
The clothes on thing is a bone of contention between me and all my kids. It drives me a little nuts that they insist on trying to hang out in the living room in their drawers. I ask them, "What are you gonna do if someone comes over?" I always get the scoff and the eyerolls with the,"Nobody ever comes over, nothing exciting ever happens, its hot in the house because you are an anemic weirdo, so let us be." I've gotten Stubby to wear his pj pants that he got for Christmas, but the other three? Its all underwear all the time or worse. I've told my oldest son he should not be in the living room in a towel, ever, because that is bound to end badly with his prankster brothers and a grabby pup around, but it never fails, he always seems to remember something he forgot to ask me just as hes about to get into the shower and then he comes stomping out into the living room, towel barely around him, to say whatever is problem is. Poor daughter clamps her hands over her eyes in defense and usually shouts,'Eww! Soo much hair!!" just to piss him off and then the boys start darting around acting like they are going to grab the towel, Spencer gets into the act and all hell breaks loose. Never mind the fact we live on a busy city street and I keep the blinds open so we get some natural light and I can see out, which means of course, others can see in. My vow is somehow, someway, to put an end to this potential bit of trauma looming. My eldest is 16, stands close to 6ft tall and easily passes for 18, he should not be wandering around in his drawers in the living room or around his little sister, its just ...eww.
Hopefully a lot of things are going to change shortly, and daughter is a big part of it. We are still working on moving down to the Hawthorne so she can go to a better school that will actually be able to allow her to follow her dreams and that will challenge her. Its disgusting to me that the schools here spent all the money to have her tested, found out that yes, she is extremely gifted in all kinds of ways and then they have nothing to offer her other than teaching the slower kids. They have moved her into some 4th grade classes and given her free rein to do pretty much what she wants in reading, but no music, no extra art nothing that she really wants, just like they did with my eldest son who is now dropping out of high school in frustration.
The boy is a natural musician, picking up musical instruments like most pick up breathing, hes also just as gifted and smart as his sister and the schools have done nothing for him except injure him and frustrate him so I am going to help him withdraw when the office re-opens and he is going to try the online college program, but if its the same lack of challenge that the regular schools offer, then I will guide him though getting his GED and mourn the fact my dreams for him will have died because I failed him soo terribly. He might still be able to work his way through some community college program and eventually get a scholarship into a decent college, but A&M will never be in his future, studying Psychology and Music Theory with the idea of using music as therapy for the mentally ill will just be a pipe dream for him.He is not a fortunate son, and he has asked me to let him try to handle things more on his own in this next year, but its hard for me to do that. While he is a young man, he is still my baby and I want the best for him. He encourages me to focus more on his siblings, trying to guide them into things that will ensure their futures are brighter, but I just worry that time is short with him.Maybe he will surprise me and find his hook and run with it, but he has never had the best of examples so I can only hope he just keeps practicing and focused on his music. He played me a song the other day that he had written himself, and it was really cool, so maybe, just maybe the boy knows something that I don't and he will rise above things and make it. He has his faith, and I don't fault him that, in fact, considering hes spending New Years at a church based party over spending it at some big teen party he got invited to? I'm not complaining at all.
I just had to fuss at daughter for tackling and attempting to eye gouge her older brother for some monkey related trauma. I'm thinking that in spite of her best intentions, her New Years resolutions are going to get broken pretty early on.
Mine? Mine are to try and keep moving forward in spite of the 280lb dead weight I allowed to find us and then reinfect our lives like a cancer of the worst kind.
I have my kids to keep things funny and bright and hopeful and with them making sure life is never dull and boring, I have a feeling things will be okay, no matter where we end up or what we end up doing, though if daughter has her way its sure to involve monkeys, music and a lot of silliness. I see nothing wrong with that.

Dear Roger:Decisions and Revisons

Things are about to change, and pretty damn dramatically, one way or another. I've been too damn pissed off to write a decent letter for the past few days so I have just concentrated on writing my other stuff. Being pissed off seems to be a pretty constant state of being for me lately, and that's not a good thing. I was happy for a long damn time, and I don't know what it is lately other than the time of year, the people around me and just the general fuckery that has gone on in my life over the past month, but I am annoyed to the point I want to smack up on something pretty damn hard. If I was in Texas or Arizona, I would take a pistol and a box of rounds and go target shoot at a tree until I felt better, but up here, I just haven't found the place or the time to get into that.
Not having a man around,(NO, the ex does no count in any way shape or form, its like having an old, neutered, dog in your house that piddles on the rug and smells weird, so just...ugh! NO!), has made me cranky. I know I need to get laid, badly,(not badly, goodly), but I don't see that happening any time soon. I still scare the hell out of what passes for men up here and I am not so far gone yet as to be ready to switch teams. I dont get out much. That really hurts my chances for getting any, but that is my own damn fault. If I was more demanding, I would be able to force my son to stay home and baby sit or I would be able to just get out, but I dont see the point. I dont have any money to spare on running around or eating out or anything like that, and its frustrating to have to be soo damn careful all the time because I am supporting 6 people with what I make when its not even enough to support 2. Im grumpy.
My rays of sunshine in all this have been the kids. Stubby has been his usual up and down self, alternately playing nicely with his sister and then harassing the hell out of her. She popped him in the nose the other night for stealing Jackson again and then calling him ,"Gay" , (referring to both monkey and boy), she bloodied his nose and was thumping on him pretty hard, even going for a good old fashioned eye-gouging when I managed to get her pulled off. Dont think I have seen her that furious in a long time. Stub knew he had stepped in it and I got his nose under control and then sent him in to sit on his bed,(the top bunk for his safety), while I got her calmed down. It took a while and a lot of talking. Bless her heart, 1st loves are always the toughest. I remember mine and while I was older, and it ended in a horrible fashion, I do remember the angst. Sticky came out and tried to comfort her, and that was pretty sweet, even her big brother got on Stubbys case about saying mean things, that don't make a bit of difference but shouldn't be said to like they are hateful. I swear, 9 year old boys are rotten little critters.
Daughter is working more and more on her skateboarding. She named her skateboard,"Stella" and she narrowly misses my toes about half the time I am in the kitchen. I worry about her falling, but she hangs onto the counter most of the time. Her father let her fall backwards off the damn slide at the park and bang not only both her elbows really badly, but her skull too. She had a huge knot on it, and scrapes. She told me much later about it and said that when she cried he told her to ,"Get over it and rub dirt on it", so she did. Rub dirt on it? I may kill him. Yes, I do coddle her a little more than the others,but again, she was not a well child when she was born. You nearly lose a kid, you tend to baby them just a little. I also baby Sticky just a bit, but hes gotten so damn independent that when I try he gets annoyed at me. I got what I pretty much wanted with him. I did my best when he was little to make him tough and resilient and independent and I tried to instill in him an attitude that even though he might have Downs Syndrome, that there were a lot more people out there who were more retarded than him who were supposedly normal, and you know what? I have. He got his new glasses last night and he put them on. He didn't like them. He said,"They aren't cool enough for me, they need work." I knew it. I told his father they weren't going to work, but his father wouldn't listen and now we have a problem because when Sticky hates something, he hates something. I will have to see if I can exchange them, or maybe get them adjusted to where he does like them, but he likes his Buddy Holly style glasses, and hes hard to convince to change, just like with his shoes. The boy likes skater shoes, his father tried to cram him into some dorky assed Brahma hiking boots because they were cheap, irresistible force? meet immovable object.The boots went missing. Never to be found. Then some of the dumb asses things started vanishing when he was being mean to Sticky over the boots. Sticky may have Downs, but hes not stupid. Payback is a bitch and that is one kid you dont piss off. All my kids are heathens. Its a constant rolling dog fight in the middle of a circus around here with the monkey drama, the dog that has now decided cat turds are the most tasty treat in the world, the weird, face biting cat that always seems to be in heat, and the wandering crackheads. To add to the fun, Chance came stomping out of the bathroom yesterday wrapped in his sisters bright pink towel, complaining that the tub wasnt draining. Eww. I knew this didnt bode well. I went in and poured some vinegar and baking soda down it with a hot water chaser, and it didnt help much so I got my multi-tool,(the one I used on crime scenes when I was an investigator), and using the needle nose pliers part, I reached into the drain and began pulling things out.
Now my ex looks like a low rent David Crosby, bad hair and all...okay? He is at that age where hair is departing his body in amounts that equal that which Chance is now growing and then manscaping it off voluntarily. I have a daughter with butt length curly blonde hair, and my hair and now past my shoulders. The other two prefer to adopt the butch cut so they contribute much to the problem. What I pulled out of that drain looked like an overweight ginger gerbil with leprosy. I have poked around in rotten people guts, so I have a strong stomach, in fact, pretty much nothing fazes me, Chance however, is a candy ass. I pulled that mass out of that drain and then shook it at him, speculating about the contents of said mass, including what him and the ex might have contributed to it, and the boy about hurled on me. The rest of the kids scattered quicker than if I had said,"Whos going to clean the toilet?"
I got it fixed. Traumatized my kids, had a decent laugh and survived another day. This too shall pass.

Dear Roger: Monkey In A Box, Duct Tape and Rabbits

It was a pretty decent Christmas. Having started early getting things for the kids as well as carefully planning for what to get them, allowed me to make sure that each of them had a nice stack of presents to make up for the paltry amount of last year. I didn't get what I want, hes still around and they were sold out of the small sized hoodies, but then maybe I have been a very bad girl? Its irrelevant, my kids were happy and that is all that matters. Of course there had to be some fun had by the boys torturing my poor daughter. The largest box under the tree was for her. It actually was a pretty damn big box that contained a keyboard complete with stand and adapter as well as some books and such, but when she spotted it, my eldest son walked over to it with her and kind of shoved it towards the back of the pile and said,"Damn mom! You forgot the air holes!" Leading the poor child to suspect we had been up to some nefarious behavior. I dont know what was worse, the fact that she is aware of such goings on in the world, the fact she looked at me like she suspected I might be capable, or that the rest of the family would conspire along with me. She dove at the box in an ill fated rescue attempt and had to be restrained. I threatened her brother with bodily harm if he didn't clear up her misconception, but I know he kept leaving that shadow of a doubt in her mind, especially later when I saw him show her my empty duct tape roll. I ended up sleeping on the couch because I had to guard the tree and presents from her and sure enough, at 4:30 in the morning she was up and out and trying to effect a rescue.For a brilliant kid she is alarmingly single-minded. I made sure her rotten brother was woken up equally early.
She was, of course, delighted with the keyboard, but I also think she may have been a little disappointed that her favorite boy was not, in fact, duct taped in the box. Who knows? She is an odd child. She started practicing on her keyboard and kept at it for well over 3 hours straight. She is already writing down finger placements and trying to figure out how to read music.She is fascinated with all the different sounds the board makes and loves to play it at the same time her older brother is playing his electric guitar.
Yes, I voluntarily purchased my children musical instruments for Christmas. Yes, I am insane. I have listened to the eldest torture to death every song from my youth with the guitar over the past couple of days, and now he has started on the songs that daughter holds dear. She got a hoodie with an ipod connection and was walking around with my ipod listening to "Sinners Dream" and singing along. Son decided he wanted to play it on his guitar. A heated debate occurred over whether or not it was fair that he "torture" her with playing bits and pieces of every single song she loves over and over again until we all cringe. I gave him headphones, but he claims its not the same as hearing it through the amp. We all suspect hes just an exhibitionist.He played the song on the guitar, she sang, I guess it was a fair compromise. Im sure my neighbors are about ready to kill us all, and if they weren't musicians, I would think they would have already been over, but so far no complaints.
My daughter came to me yesterday with an interesting proposal for our New Years tradition. She said that since she had been the first to say,'Rabbit Rabbit" last year on January 1st,our luck had been pretty exceptional. I had gotten a job, her brothers had come home, she had gotten to see her favorite boy again and gotten to hug him and talk to him(the highlight of her whole year), and things had just gotten better for us all around. She said, "I think I am lucky, so maybe you should just sleep late that day and let me have it again." I think she is right. It has been a good year with the one exception, and if we could figure a way to deal with that, then this next year will surely be even more awesome.
We know we want to keep moving forward and upward and there is no way that the dead weight I have hanging around my neck in the form of the albatross is going to prevent that from happening.

Dear Roger: Wash The Monkey! Please?

My small daughters companion has reached a point of grubbiness that leaves me worried that the CDC is going to come looking for us in their bunny suits. The beady eyed little minion has substances on it that make it somewhat sacred in her eyes so when mention is made of giving it a bath, she reacts as anyone who has their rather dubious religious icon threatened, she freaks the hell out. "Nooo! You cant! What if it came off?,(referring to her favorite boys autograph on the paw), and his sweat would be gone!!"while I think that would be perfectly acceptable, she, however does not. I have tried to convince her we could get the monkey,"resweatted" (I swear to God I have lost my mind having kids), the next time we went to one of his concerts, or maybe the monkey could just stay clean for once? but NO! she went ballistic. "Are you crazy? NO! What if he never comes back? What if I don't get to see him again? What if he forgets me?No! No Baths! Besides, Jackson doesn't like baths!"
Her brothers have offered to perform run by Axeing's of him to quell the odor a bit, but I don't want bloodshed and that would just lead to an escalation of tensions amongst the siblings. Its bad enough that they often steal him and stuff him down their pants and hide him in the dog bed.
She is very protective of that little stuffed monkey, she sleeps with it every night, and he has special jewelry and a special blanket and when she does her plays or sings her songs, hes always there. He was in our family Christmas pictures yesterday and when her brother tried to get her to leave him out of the family picture, she yelled at him,"Hes part of the family, get used to it loser!" Her brother just shook his head and muttered about the weirdness that is his family and smiled for the camera. I drew the line at posing with the thing, and bore her glare for it, though I took a picture of her with it.
She knows its a bit on the grungy side at this point and she likes to torture me with it. I am a bit of a germaphobe, and I don't like things near my face that I KNOW are a bit uh...contaminated? So what does the child do when I am on my knees trying to get a picture of her brother? She sneaks up behind my and just as I go to tell him,"Smile" she reached around and had the monkey kiss me full on the mouth. Thats right...I got a mouthful of contaminated monkey, but I also got a smile from my son for the picture as the room disintegrated into hysterical laughter at my reaction. I walked into my room yesterday after falling asleep on the couch to find her asleep in my bed with the monkey cuddled up next to her on.my. pillow. siiiiiiiigggggghhhhh.
I wonder if maybe Santa could write her a letter and tell her the monkey needs a bath or if I should just keep waiting it out?

Dear Roger:What I Think About Today

Damn Rog, you would be another year older today. Another year cooler I am sure, opting to refer to yourself as ,"Vintage" or something I am sure. Damn, I wish you were here. I really could use your advice now, more than ever. I am sure you would probably like to kick my ass up between my ears for a few things, but I know you wouldn't, you would just offer some insight and opinion in to how to unfuck the situation and I would actually take it. Why did one of the few people I actually listen to have to leave me so damn soon in the game? Its really not fair you know. My kids should have known you instead of just hearing stories. Speaking of my kids...holy hell, you would have loved my little girl. She paints and draws and does all kinds of stuff and the other day she was in such a great mood she went on a painting binge and she painted something that you would have found hysterical I am sure. She was very intently looking at her easel, applying blues and browns and oranges, her brush strokes carefully applied, gentle dabs following after, and then with artistic flair she titled it," Cat Terd in a Toilet." When I made the mistake of pointing out her misspelling, she slammed down her brush, scowled at me and said,'That is part of the JOKE! DUH!" and stomped off. God...another artist in the family. I already told you about the video didn't I? yeah...the video that is over 16k hits? I missed having someone to call and tell about it because honestly, I freaked the hell out. She was all happy and excited and thinks its awesome as does her big brother, my sis was even happy, me? Im an ex cop! What the hell do you think my reaction is? Danger WILL ROBINSON! Arrgh! I needed you to tell me its going to be okay. That my little girl is going to forget she wants to go out into the wild, wide world and do things like that and associate with young rock stars and such. I just dont know about all this. Shes hitting me up to make more videos of the plays she does with her brothers, but luckily we cant keep clothes on Sticky long enough to get one all the way through, and random nudity is a deal killer that gets everything erased, so no more videos so far, though the one last night was pretty damn cute. It involved a cross-dressing Harry Potter, Raccoon's, rabid weremonkeys, and a rampaging dog that kept attempting to steal one of the co-stars.
I'm trying not to be sad today. I have been in a bit of a funk all week and its mainly the stress of the season, all the birthdays of everyone I miss, and just worrying about making sure I am not going to let my kids down. I have been writing like a woman possessed lately and that has helped quite a bit, but that is another reason I really miss you. I wish you knew that I finally was back at it. I started writing again just over a year ago and even I can see the improvement in my style and my content. I'm still to much of a control freak to let anybody mess with it, but I have been putting it out in a place where its been getting read and damn Rog, its popular and growing in popularity almost daily. I get emails from readers who tell me I made them laugh so hard they wet their pants! Me? Making someone laugh? That just blows me away. I enjoy writing and it feels like its burning out of me half the damn time. I just feel like I have to write, my skin gets tight feeling and im anxious and nervous and stressed if im kept away from it for too long. I go back and work over my older stories and instead of deleting everything in frustration like I used to do with my art or photography, I just fix what needs fixing and I move on. I talk about it with people and that's another shocker, instead of just keeping it to myself, I talk about my writing. The asshole ex still makes fun of me because Im not making any money at it, and he thinks that unless im making money at it, im a failure, but considering hes a metalsmith/jeweler who never made a dime,yet spent thousands on his vocation, I don't think he is one to talk at least mine is pretty cheap to practice.
There are soo many things I would want to tell you about today, the mistakes ive made, and there have been so damn many, the triumphs I have had, and there have been quite a few of those too, and the doubts I have about being able to keep on keeping on some days. I struggle on the best of days to deal with everything that pushes down on me, and the things the buoy me up, like my kids and my writing are the bright spots in all the grim, I miss having that voice calling me out of the blue and saying,"Hey, numbnuts, hows it going?" Much like you were the only person who could get away with calling me Jenny, you were the only person I liked hugs from, because they weren't overpowering hugs, they were big, knock the world off your shoulders and make you feel safe, bear hugs, and dammit...I really need one more than ever. I miss you soo damn much.

Dear Roger: And So The Crazy Begins

The kids are off school for the next couple of weeks. Oh God. I know this is supposed to be a time filled with joy and celebration, but picture this if you will...4 kids,(though my eldest disappears with his buddies to work on their "Band" for hours), stuck in the house due to rain, cold or lack of willingness to wrangle all of them on the busy Portland sidewalks it the combination of the aforementioned. It should also be mentioned that my shoulder has decided to go out again. I had it rebuilt about 5 years ago and apparently that is the extent of the warranty on the rebuild. It has slipped out of socket on me several times over the past few days, leaving me feeling like cursing, crying and barfing while I try to slip it back into place, or a combination of all three, so trying to deal with recalcitrant kids who often reenact battle scenes from Fight Club in public,is not within my capability at the moment. The ex has been working long hours at his new meat selling job and while that is a blessing meaning that he is gone away from us for vast stretches of time, its also a bit of a pain for trying to get out and get anything done.
I know the inevitable will happen and I will have to brave the maddening crowds with them sometime in order to keep them from getting cabin fever and doing horrible things to each other more than they have already done. We are hardly into the first full day and already I have two boys with painted fingernails and one who woke up with a drawn on mustache and unibrow. Daughter has spent most of the day racing around the house in her panties with a blanket tied to her wrists and ankles proclaiming herself to be a,'Sugarglider".
She made her brothers dress up as a raccoon and a dog, and directed them in a play that involved the,'Raccoon" knocking over a trash can and the,'Dog" chasing it, and that was all well and good until Spencer, our real dog, got freaked out and decided to get involved in the chasing and offered to bite the,'Raccoon" on the butt.Spencer went to puppy time-out and the play was revised.
The eldest came home long enough to eat 6 slightly burned waffles coated in half a bottle of syrup, shower, drop off his dirty clothes, collect his guitar, argue with me and leave again. I cant say I blame him, I kind of wish I could trade places with him. Especially after daughter comes up to me and said,"Remember that chili ed made me eat yesterday?" yeah...I did after she giggled and walked away. Girls are every bit as gross as boys. As I write this, she is out burping her brothers in a root beer burp contest.She tells me that she wants to spend the next couple of weeks,'Being feral." I asked her, "What if we have company?" She scoffed at me, "Nobody ever comes over to our house. Im not worried. We dont have any family around and the boys are always trying to make me smell their arm pits, so I think I should try to go stinky as payback." Seriously...can I trade places with the older one?

Dear Roger: Things I Cant Give Her

Christmas approaches and while it promises to be better this year, its also a bit stranger. I have struggled with what to get my kids, not just because money is a bit of an issue, hell...Im used to that, but because they seem to not really need anything. I work really hard to provide for them, and they have pretty much what they need in the way of things. We keep our lives pretty simple and they aren't the type of kids to really demand the latest shiny electronic toy or geegaw,(well, the eldest is, but then again, he has most of that, that he is allowed to bring into the house),and the other things, like video games and fancy flat screened tv's, he knows are just things that aren't really that important.
I have debated and tried to figure out what would be special to each child, and while daughter is the easiest,(art, music, monkeys and Rathbone related), she is also the most difficult because I want to get her something she will love because she is also the only kid who hasn't hit me with a list on a daily basis. She did mention a hula hoop, once, but she hasn't begged or nagged or pointed at everything in every store or ad.Its like she has faith that she will be taken care of and she just keeps on keeping on. She was tickled to death to bring home the present she had made for ME from school to put under the tree and she wanted to make sure that Spencer and the cats all had something to put under it as well. She enjoys doing for others and she wants to be involved in either making or getting stuff for her brothers and shes been making up and singing Christmas songs all week.
Her brothers are kinda the opposite, they are on overload and its like Christmas was soo sparse for them last year that they just want anything this year so they are asking for everything in the hopes they will get something. Apparently he got them each a coloring book each and then they got some clothes that didn't fit from a charity. The money I sent them was spent on candy and food, so apparently it was a pretty crappy Christmas for them. I have already made sure it wont be like that for them this year, but I can tell that they are worried. They got given critter head beanies already and Stubby has not taken his raccoon one off yet. I dont know if its because hes happy to have such a cool present, or he just loves it, but when he got a fishing pole from another friend yesterday, he slept with it next to him last night.
Stevie has faith. I think that is the difference. She knows that no matter what it will all work out and what is meant to be will be. She is very happy with very little, because she knows that there are others who have had to make do with a lot less than she has gotten, she has seen them in her own family and she wants them to realize that this year things will be different, even if they dont get the whole world, they got a new one and it is getting better.
Im going to get her a keyboard of some sort or another, it may not be the best, it may not be brand new, but it will be new to her and I know she will love it because that is just how she is, and she will use it to make music that will make me laugh and that will be my present. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving.