The season of "Giving" is approaching and im finally getting back into my charity work. Its something I had really missed, and thanks to some friends of mine, I got out and did the Portland AidsWalk. The walk not only met its goal, it exceeded it by over 45k! It was quite an experience to be involved in it and I enjoyed myself. The scene was as Portlandia as Portland gets and I don't think I have felt so welcomed since I have been here. The boys who were part of my team are friends of mine and we made a day of it, just walking along talking about our experiences growing up and dealing with a society the expects everyone to fall into a particular mold. There were people of every size, shape and description walking in that fundraiser, they were walking for friends, family, loved ones, themselves or just because they know that Aids is a terrible disease we should have defeated over a decade ago. I walked in memory of my cousin and for all the people who live in the shadows and in fear. That was a huge topic of discussion that day, the stigma.
I remember seeing on the news the misery and torture that Ryan White went through when he was diagnosed with Aids and how horrible people treated a child who had an illness he had no control over and that was going to kill him. It was just the tip of the iceberg of how gay people were and are treated.
I've never gotten it. I know I was raised with a certain attitude in my home as a child because when my said to her friend that she suspected I was more than just a,"Tomboy", it freaked me the hell out. I was already getting harassed by some of the prominent members of the football team at school and called things like,"Dyke" because of how I dressed and acted and my sports playing as well as being ostracized by people who had been friends and neighbors previously, so when my own mother made comments about my room decor (Hollywood stars of the 40's of both sexes), It horrified me and probably had a lot to do with why I became a bit of a sexually aggressive young adult that had kids early.
I've grown a lot since then and reached a point in my life where I don't care what other people think about me, and I am just accepting of where I am in life. I am at peace with my place in life and accepting of difference and I wish more people were the same way. I see people that I know are living in pain, living in the shadows and hiding who they are and who they love for the sake of their careers or family or community and I see the heartache and the pain it causes and it hurts my heart for them because I know how much it hurts. It was refreshing to admit to myself and the friends I walked with that day that love is love is love and being open to accepting it no matter if its not in the form you or anyone else expected is an amazing and freeing way to be.
It was hard for me as a parent of 5 kids to reach that point. I was fast on the way to falling into lockstep with my family and I wanted my children to be,"NORMAL", with my sons being tough and strong men who would go on to the Corp of Cadets at Texas A&M and marry good girls with all the traditional trappings of Texas to follow. I wanted my daughters to be good girls who would marry respectable men who would be their equals and respectable members of the community. I wanted my daughters to go on to either Texas A&M or UT and get their Doctorates and become powerful women who would lead their communities before they gave me a few grand kids to spoil rotten. The thing is with my kids it that they are individuals, and as individuals they have very distinct paths and hopes for the future. My eldest has already made her own distinct path and TAMU is not on the radar and she has not shown any interest in dating. My eldest son wants to go to college in Oregon and he talks of never marrying quite frequently. My other two boys are a puzzle. My youngest daughter has had her sights set on one particular fella for a long time and she tends to talk of TAMU as being the only school that is worth even considering, but I have stopped pushing that, and when we talk of the future and what my dreams of for my kids, I simply say, "I want to look in your faces and only see joy and peace, never pain or unhappiness, if I see that, then I know I did my job as a parent. Ill love you no matter who you love, what you become, where you are or what you are doing. If YOU are happy and being a good person who does no harm to others, then I am at peace with that."
I've always been a person who when told to zig, I zagged. I resented being forced into molds and little boxes. I always worked non-traditional jobs, dated or even married the type of guy who was so far removed from the family norm that I am sure my parents wished I had been gay at times. It wasn't because I was trying to to purposely offend anyone, it was just at the time, the person who walked into my life and shook up my world with love happened to be a Lebanese Semi-pro soccer player, or an Iranian gypsy violin playing/singing, blind, research scientist,(still do carry a bit of a torch for him), or a former Hell's Angel Prospect with issues of his own who ive now reached a peace with and share most of my kids with. Love doesn't always fit a perfect mold and being accepting of the form it takes is part of being a grown human and I think I have finally grown up.
About Me
- Calamity
- Portland, Oregon, United States
- Middle aged crazy, a little on the broken side,been to hell and back and still make side trips into Purgatory to indulge the masochistic side of my personality. I'm Texan,Southern,Over-educated,arrogant, temperamental,oversexed but under-indulged.Chasing after younger men and the happiness that has eluded me for most of my life.Music and literature are my passions.Finally living the dream in my idea of Heaven.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Dear Roger: The Monkey Found Its Balls
I have gotten tougher and much, much braver lately about actually dealing with people and NOT returning to my den and flipping the monkey upside down. Currently the monkey is right side up, erect and flipping the bird in aggravation, but that is the pose my son put him in, and while I understand his sentiment, I try not to take it down the stairs with me. I have been focusing on the positive things in my life. I wildly upgraded my phone from the basic Iphone 4 to an Iphone 4s 16g which now means I have a better camera and more storage and even better, SIRI and all kinds of fun tools to play with. I did the same for my son and mayhem has ensued. He wanted the 5 but I didn't want to wait that long for a phone, and I couldn't justify that kind of expense. This was the result of a bad business decision on my part that I had to extricate myself out of due to my job, and while it was a very costly lesson to me, it actually taught my son a lot more and he is now a much more wary and untrusting person, especially of women. He sort of jokingly claimed he was going to become gay just so he no longer had to deal with women and their manipulations.
I actually wrote and mailed a letter that I had been dared to write a long time ago. I still cant believe I did it, and after I put it in the mailbox, I stood there in panic wanting to get it back but unable to fit my hand through the mail slot. I had no I.D. with me and the mail lady wouldn't give it back to me, so its off and gone. My first ever letter of that nature. F.M.L.
My writing is coming in fits and starts, and once its more reliable and smoothed out again, Ill post something on my tumblr about it, but for now I want to keep working on making sure the characters are true to themselves and that the story flows well. I've been working on Secrets, but Long Distance is almost done with the editing, and the re-vamp of Drifts should be done any day now. Its just a matter of finding the time to sit down at my computer to put them all together and then out there for the world to peruse.
Im not walking with my head down as much and that is a good thing. I can walk with my head up, knowing that I am doing this on my own, earning my keep working an honest job using my brain and my honest effort with no man paying anything for me, though the ex did finally find a job back in Arizona, he still struggles to just keep himself fed. My kids are happy and busy and we are soon to have a car so we wont be spending this winter walking in the rain or trapped in the house. '
Progress has been made and balls have been found.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Dear Roger: Trusting Your Gut and What Its Worth
I got news last night that shook me. As my snarky teen son sat next to me on the couch and tried to convince me I was tired and needed to go to bed, while I was busy reading a blog by a young woman that I have come to care about as a distant friend, another friend who is from my past in law enforcement sent me a chat message on Facebook. He just asked if I had heard about an officer that we used to work with. It took a minute or two for the memory to come to surface, but once it did, the mans face was clear as a bell, he had been my eldest sons fathers best friend.
Whenever my sons father was on duty at the ambulance, this officer was around. They went shooting together, went to training's together for weeks, and they were as close as brothers. My sons father would even drive the nearly 300 miles from his home in Tucson on his days off, just to hang out with this officer and go places with him. I thought it odd at the time, but the relationship I had with my sons father was so turbulent and scary, that I dared not say a word about it. When I finally managed to get away from my sons father and he quit the department and was told not to return, the officer was not happy with me, but he left me alone. I remember him being a bit arrogant and odd, but not an overtly horrible person. We ate meals together, worked scenes together, saved lives together. He wore a badge and was part of my family in that way. If I hadn't been able to hide from my sons father due to his violence and threats of violence, and if he had gotten parental rights, the officer most likely would have been my sons Godfather and most assuredly would have been in my sons life quite a bit and I would have had no say in it, but I did what I knew I had to do as a mother and i protected my son and I fought to keep a monster out of my sons life for over 16 years.
I found out last night that trusting my gut and going without many of the things that so many women take for granted such as a man to help support and guide a son, child support or any kind of financial assistance, the security of knowing that no one is going to hurt your child because they love them,(in fact, he promised he would kill him if given the chance), knowing the medical and family history of the paternal side of my sons family, and my career, which I gave up and changed to stay below the radar for many years, was the right decision.
The officer who was my sons fathers best friend was accused by his eldest daughter of continually molesting her when she was a young girl. The investigation is just beginning, but he will never be arrested or serve any time for it because he took his own life shortly after being questioned about it.
Do I think my sons father would have been capable of being involved in such things? I will never know, but I am damn sure glad I will never have to find out.
Its a smaller world than we realize and we are all connected along our journey. I firmly believe that, even though we have vastly different lives and struggles and paths that we follow, we share things with each other and reading the young woman's blog posting last night reminded me of that because just the other day I was cleaning out my old certifications and getting rid of things that I no longer hold as essential to where I am in life now, and one of the first things I came across was my certification as a,"Tobacco Cessation Counselor" that I received when I was an Americorp Member. As part of my tour of duty and as a former smoker, I got certified and I taught classes on how to quit smoking,(a sort of AA styled thing), and one of the ways to quit that they had been pushing was a drug...a drug that I had recently heard about via a tragedy. I had done more research after hearing about this event, and how unpredictable it was and due to the population I was working with, (largely Native, Impoverished and poly-substance abusers), I refused to even introduce it as a possibility. I encouraged natural methods, along with diet, exercise, the patch and distraction. I had a 95% success rate. It was the first time I had ever heard that name, that name that would a short time later circle around and mean much more to us and my daughter than I could ever explain, but it is an odd synchronicity that has reverberated through many lives now and I will not discount it.
Trust yourself, you are stronger than you know, and there are forces in the world that make us all accountable to and for each other.
Blessings and strength to you all.
Whenever my sons father was on duty at the ambulance, this officer was around. They went shooting together, went to training's together for weeks, and they were as close as brothers. My sons father would even drive the nearly 300 miles from his home in Tucson on his days off, just to hang out with this officer and go places with him. I thought it odd at the time, but the relationship I had with my sons father was so turbulent and scary, that I dared not say a word about it. When I finally managed to get away from my sons father and he quit the department and was told not to return, the officer was not happy with me, but he left me alone. I remember him being a bit arrogant and odd, but not an overtly horrible person. We ate meals together, worked scenes together, saved lives together. He wore a badge and was part of my family in that way. If I hadn't been able to hide from my sons father due to his violence and threats of violence, and if he had gotten parental rights, the officer most likely would have been my sons Godfather and most assuredly would have been in my sons life quite a bit and I would have had no say in it, but I did what I knew I had to do as a mother and i protected my son and I fought to keep a monster out of my sons life for over 16 years.
I found out last night that trusting my gut and going without many of the things that so many women take for granted such as a man to help support and guide a son, child support or any kind of financial assistance, the security of knowing that no one is going to hurt your child because they love them,(in fact, he promised he would kill him if given the chance), knowing the medical and family history of the paternal side of my sons family, and my career, which I gave up and changed to stay below the radar for many years, was the right decision.
The officer who was my sons fathers best friend was accused by his eldest daughter of continually molesting her when she was a young girl. The investigation is just beginning, but he will never be arrested or serve any time for it because he took his own life shortly after being questioned about it.
Do I think my sons father would have been capable of being involved in such things? I will never know, but I am damn sure glad I will never have to find out.
Its a smaller world than we realize and we are all connected along our journey. I firmly believe that, even though we have vastly different lives and struggles and paths that we follow, we share things with each other and reading the young woman's blog posting last night reminded me of that because just the other day I was cleaning out my old certifications and getting rid of things that I no longer hold as essential to where I am in life now, and one of the first things I came across was my certification as a,"Tobacco Cessation Counselor" that I received when I was an Americorp Member. As part of my tour of duty and as a former smoker, I got certified and I taught classes on how to quit smoking,(a sort of AA styled thing), and one of the ways to quit that they had been pushing was a drug...a drug that I had recently heard about via a tragedy. I had done more research after hearing about this event, and how unpredictable it was and due to the population I was working with, (largely Native, Impoverished and poly-substance abusers), I refused to even introduce it as a possibility. I encouraged natural methods, along with diet, exercise, the patch and distraction. I had a 95% success rate. It was the first time I had ever heard that name, that name that would a short time later circle around and mean much more to us and my daughter than I could ever explain, but it is an odd synchronicity that has reverberated through many lives now and I will not discount it.
Trust yourself, you are stronger than you know, and there are forces in the world that make us all accountable to and for each other.
Blessings and strength to you all.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, August 24, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, August 17, 2012
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?
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?
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