Dear Roger: The Monkey Is Running Amuck

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

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

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

Dear Roger:The Monkey Is Loved

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

Dear Roger: Parenting Once Upon a Time

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

Dear Roger: The Monkey Is Erect

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

Dear Roger: The Monkey is Sideways

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

Dear Roger: The Monkey Is Upside Down

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