preTzel's place

Letters Home.

2009-11-06T14:28:00.000-08:00

Undated first letter:

Dear Mom,

Please, Please write me as often as you can, every day, whenever you can. This is the first time I've been allowed to write. I have little time. I love you so much and I think about you and dad and Middle and Baby every single day. It's hell here but I'm trying as hard as I can. Please me as often as possible, I won't be able to respond nearly as much as I'd like, but read your words would mean worlds to me. I would love mail from dad and my brothers. My address is:

Hell BootCamp
YADA YADA YADA
WRITE ME NOW!

I miss you.
I love you,
Please think of me.

Love,

Teen

Second letter:

October 31, 2009

Dear Mom and Dad,

I actually have a little time to write this time. The one before this was really rushed. I'm okay, I've made some friends, and all, so far I've been doing well in PT and testing. I'm really really homesick. I think about you all EVERY night. I have a LOT of apprehension about the future. I still don't know what job I'm getting even what I want. i'm mostly worried about not being able to contact any of you, but I think that's just anxiety.

Please write me as often as you'd like, even if it's just to ramble or say you love me. I'll write John and Adam soon. If you have trouble contacting me, call either my recruiter or the BOOTCAMP PLACE. I hope I can call soon, I have no idea when I'll be able to. I have been going to church, yeah, I cried. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I love you all dearly, please write me when you can.

Love,
Teen

PS Tell Middle and Baby that I miss them.

*sigh* This is tougher than I thought it would be. I thought I would relish knowing bootcamp wasn't easy for him. Now? I sit here in tears. One out of guilt and the other out of worry. I hope he continues striving for the best. I have been sending him letters - 2 or 3 a week - but I'm upping them to daily even if it's just a card.

We're concerned that we might not be able to go down there to see him graduate because we just don't have the finances for it. Gah! Off to respond to him.

I Believe He Can Fly.

2009-10-19T12:18:00.000-07:00

With respect to the writers and to R. Kelly...

I used to think he would never move on
And his attitude became an awful song
But now I know these steps he takes are right for him
He's moving forward and learning to go beyond
If he believes it
Then he can do it
If he just believes it
There's nothing to it...

I believe he can fly
I believe he can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread his wings and he flies away
I believe he can soar
I see him going through that open door
I believe he can fly
I believe he can fly...
I believe he can fly.....

See he was on the verge of breaking out
Somehow his silence can seem so loud
He is the miracle I can see
Somehow he started inside of me
If I can see it
Then he can see it
If he just believes it
There's nothing to it!

I believe he can fly
I believe he can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread his wings and he flies away
I believe he can soar
I see him going through that open door
I believe he can fly
I believe he can fly...
I believe he can fly.....

Because if he believes it...
If he can see it...
Then he can do it....

If he just believes it
There's nothing to it
I believe he can fly!
I believe he can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread his wings and watch him fly away
I believe he can soar
I see him running through that open door
I believe he can fly
He will believe he can fly
If he just spreads his wings
He can fly...
He can fly.......
If he just spreads his wings - he CAN fly.

Today at 6:30 PM CT my son leaves the nest. He will be venturing forth into the arms of the Air Force to learn skills that he so desperately needs. Not skills to get a job but skills in life. Skills that he refused to learn from his parents, peers, and teachers. Skills he failed to believe he needed and only believes he can get from the Air Force.

Fly my son. Fly high, go right through that open door, and soar. I believe you can do it. And you will.

My heart aches right now because I so desperately want to keep him here even with his anger and quirks and idiosyncrasies because I want to shield him from what is sure going to be a tough blow once he arrives in Texas tomorrow. San Antonio is where he is headed and we'll be there to watch him graduate.

Where once I prayed for him to just breathe...now I pray that he flies high and finds all his dreams have come true. It is my hope that he find his niche in life and that it is no where near a rut and goes straight to the pot of gold.

With blessings my child - go forth and know that my arms will always feel empty with you away. My heart will beat a little slower, my breath will catch more often, and you take a part of my soul with you.

Rest In Peace Patrick Swayze.

2009-09-14T19:52:00.000-07:00

Your memory will always live with me. The Outsiders. Dirty Dancing. Break Point. Ghost. And many, many other movies you starred in. Your suffering ends. May your peace bring peace to your family, friends, and scores of fans who mourn your loss.

Hair: Broadway Musical or School District Gone Nuts

2009-09-12T11:04:00.000-07:00

When my boys were younger I dictated the length of their hair because I felt they were too young to make that decision. We went with the traditional "boy" cut and kept it short but not so short that you would call it a buzz. As Teen has gone through the years he has always kept his hair short; his preference is 1/2" long at the back, the sides, and then 1" long on the top. Baby also prefers his short because when it is not short then it curls and he doesn't like it. Middle has decided that he wants longer hair that droops over his eyes and covers the left eye completely. He swears he can see through his hair and we choose not to make it an issue. I am the "pick your battles" type of parent and hair is just not a battle I feel worthy of declaring war over. His hair has never been long enough to touch the shoulders but the length of his bangs, when straight down, touched the chin. That was until I received a phone call at work this week.

"Mrs. preTzel this is Ms. IDON'TLIKELONGHAIR at Middle's school could you please call me as we need to set up a meeting to discuss Middle skipping class last week. You can reach me at 1-866-Hair-Hater."

Now obviously that is not her real name or her real number. I did call her back and let her know that I could meet as soon as I left work.

I have a firm policy for myself when it comes to talking to school personnel in front of my children: Do not undermine their authority because the child needs to understand that the adults are in charge in that building.

So as this woman began spouting her shit I sat there stunned.

"Middle, you will have to cut your hair or you will not be allowed to return to school tomorrow."

"Middle, if I have to I will put a clip in your hair."

"Middle, you're made fun of because your hair is too long."

At this point I turned to Middle and said "Middle, I don't care if you come to school looking like Cousin It from the Adam's Family (or was it the Munsters?). NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO EVER, EVER, EVER MAKE FUN OF YOU. NO ONE. NO. MATTER. HOW. LONG. YOUR. HAIR IS. EVER."

Uhm. You did not just say that bullshit to my kid. Yup. You did. Apparently Ms. IDON'TLIKELONGHAIR missed the memo that Middle's mom is a HUGE child advocate and probably the biggest parent advocate in this district. I am not a mama bear unless I need to be but I do advocate for my child when I feel that an administrator or teacher is over - stepping their bounds. I will not roll over and allow my child to be bulldozed.

So. I call the principal. I told him that Mr. and I were very upset. I told him that NO education personnel has the right to put their hands on our child UNLESS he was proving a danger to himself or others. Ever. EVER! If they did they would be slapped with a lawsuit so fast their head would spin.

I told him that Ms. IDON'TLIKELONGHAIR over stepped her bounds when she said she would not allow Middle back to school unless his hair was cut. I told him that she over stepped her bounds when she threatened to put a clip in his hair.

Then I told him "This woman clearly needs some level of educating on bullying and what is and what is not acceptable when it comes to bullying and harrassment. She also needs to read the district policy on bullying and harrassment because she doesn't understand it."

He agreed that she "handled things the wrong way. She also could have worded what she meant to say in better terms. But," I just hate buts, "we have decided that we will treat long hair on boys as if they are wearing a hat or hoodie. It must be out of the face so that we can see their eyes at all times."

Okay. So I went through the district's policy on personal appearance, clothing, head gear, et al. NOWHERE in that policy does it state that males must wear their hair out of their face. NOWHERE does it state that if the child does not keep it out of their hair that they will be expelled.

I will give you one guess on which mother will be going to the next school board meeting.

I will update.

I am still not smoking.

PS: Please go vote for my friend Brian's website. It's for a good cause:

By Body & Soul

Psychotic Or Just A Touch Crazy.

2009-09-05T13:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I've passed the 12 week mark of not smoking. That is a long time to go without. That is a long time to not suck on a cigarette.

I've entered a stage where I find myself very irritable. I find myself angry a lot and weepy. I am not sure what is all contributing to it but something (or things) is and I don't like it. It makes me angry that I am angry. It makes me sad that I am weepy. So...I found myself a therapist.

Therapy is tricky. It is hard for me to sit there and talk about things when my own psychotic mind is thinking "Is she labeling me? Does she think I'm crazy?" Yes, I've wondered myself if I wasn't losing my mind. I find myself holding lonely conversations. I find myself resenting my husband because he can continue to smoke and I can not. I find myself having NO patience for anyone or anything. And yet. Yet. I also find myself feeling lost. Alone. Afraid.

This is a difficult subject to talk about because I don't want anyone thinking I am crazy. Psychotic? Yes. Crazy? No. If I'm going to be mentally off then I want to be all the way mentally off and not just "touched". :D

So I try to balance everything in a clear way that I can understand and try to take a deep breath before speaking because if I don't then someone might end up with part of their head missing.

I miss blogging but I hate whining on here all the time. I hate being a big ol' baby so I don't come and blog. I walk away and facebook instead because on there I can get lost in not being able to type every thought in my head because it begins to erase your type when you get to a certain point. (And that pisses me off.) I've thought about twitter but I find that inane and insane so I don't twitter. (Besides, Vinegar Martini hates twits and I hate that word "twit" so I won't tweet!)

(Notice how manic this post is? That is how jumbled my thoughts are and sometimes my verbal processes.)

So. There you have it. preTzel is still not smoking, hasn't killed anyone (yet), still relying on nicotine patches to get her through, and acting a touch crazy.

Teen leaves soon for boot camp. I'm sad but happy at the same time. This kid can drive me 1000 ways crazy! I think he will thrive in the structured environment of the military. He won't be here for Thanksgiving. We might be going to Texas for his graduation. (At the very least I will go.) This is my first born child and I fear for his safety if he is sent over to the war zone. He insists that he was born invincible so I should not worry so. I can't help it, my son, it is my duty to worry so.

Middle is doing okay in high school. He is still Negative Nathan (that is not his real name - I didn't want to call him negative Nelly) and I have put him in therapy because I am concerned about his mental health.

Baby is Baby and continues on his way.

So that is my update. How about one from you?

Inadequate.

2009-08-20T17:21:00.000-07:00

Inadequate is a feeling that I am very uncomfortable with. I do not relish feeling insuperior in any situation. I also like to be prepared before attempting any task and make sure that I am relatively certain that I am to accomplishing what I set out to do.

I love to write. It is a passion of mine that has been with me for a long time. There isn't a moment that my mind isn't whirring words through my mind much like film used to whir through a camera. Click Click Shutter Shutter Click I try to shut my mind down at times and pay attention and instead I find my muse, who always seems to disappear just when I need her, tapping at my ears drawing my attention inward and not outward.

A few months ago I blogger I read lost her daughter. It was not expected. It was nothing one could prepare for. It is what nightmares are made of. In that moment I felt inadequate. Today I still feel inadequate. I read her blog. My heart bleeds in pain as a mother for her. Her strength amazes me every time I read her words on the screen. I am in awe of this woman who lost so much takes the time to share her grief with those that are hiding on the other side of the monitor.

I emailed her when it first happened. I follow her on facebook. Still? I feel inadequate. I don't have the words to say that could spare her the pain she feels daily. I can't find one word that I could say to ease that loss. Anger wells up inside me towards my muse wondering where she is when I need the words to express my grief in the wake of their own. Then I begin thinking "Your grief is inadequate. You can not feel one one - hundreth of an ounce of the grief they feel." I shut down my email and I walk away. Head hanging. Tears falling.

Every day since I have not taken my children for granted. Every day since I have made myself stop before scolding my boys. That "what if" always lingers in the back of my mind. I will step into my living room at night just to hear their noises. I will hide behind a door when they are laughing just to hear their laugh. Then I cry. I feel guilty. I feel inadequate as a mother, as a blogger, as a writer, as a friend.

How do you express your grief to someone who has grief so deep there is not enough words to being to salve the soul's wound? You can not. You can express it and move forward and hope it is enough. Even if it isn't.

Today I received an email from Brian Papa. It made me cry. For the first since the death of that little girl I felt less inadequate. I felt as if my words made a difference in someone's life. I felt as if I could express my grief and it would be enough.

Brian as much as you thank me I thank you as well. Because of your email this morning my inadequacies felt fewer and far between.

tapping on the glass Anyone still out there?

2009-08-18T07:56:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is preTzel and I have been a bad blogger this summer. My summer has been chock full of busy and I have totally neglected my blog. Between Facebook, out of town events, meetings, kids, the new dog, and L.I.F.E. I've just let my blogging fall to the wayside.

I must also admit that I was getting to the point that I felt I was either blogging about my attempt to stop smoking (3 months now I've been a non - smoker) and whining about my kids. That's kind of a downer and I certainly did not want to turn this blog into a whining blog. I'm not from Whina and I don't speak whinese so I can't type it either.

I do want to mention that my very good blogging buddy and my friend Brian Papa of PapaTV launched his really cheerful website that I feel has a lot of potential to be big one day soon. It is called CheerUpNation. When he first launched the blog I was excited for him.

Brian is a victim of the economy. He was released from his employment two months ago. With a new child (that is growing way to fast), a new wife, and a household to care for he found himself with out a job. Brian could have played the "victim" role to the hilt. He could have slumped into a depression and forgot his obligations to life. Instead. Instead he chose to launch a website to help others find laughter when, let's face it, there isn't a whole lot to laugh about when you're unemployed, gas prices are climbing (again!), and food prices are soaring. There is so much more to be UNhappy about than to be HAppy about.

If you get the chance - please stop by and give him a shout out on the CheerUpNation site. Watch the video with him playing with his daughter Sienna. That is Brian. That is truly who he is. You can't help but smile each time you watch him being a goofy dad and playing with his daughter.

If you're still reading - bless you. I know I promise to come back and then I don't...but I am going to truly try for one post a week, maybe more. I'm returning to work on Monday (GASP! Where did my vacation go?) so I'm sure I'll have blog fodder from that.

Until next time...check out CheerUpNation if you wake up grumpy or find yourself needing to smile. Pass that link on to your pals that may need a smile. I'm positive that you will find one on Brian's website.

Wow! It has been a month since I last blogged!

2009-07-28T19:32:00.000-07:00

Holy cow! Where has the time gone? Well, I guess I better catch y'all up on the goings ons before I get ahead of myself.

I am still smoke - free and loving it. Month two is going by fast and it has been busy. But being smoke - free has been the best. I love smelling clean, I love that my kids aren't bitching about it, and I love that I don't have to budget them. YAY!

I have a new pet. His name is Wyatt. He is at the vet's right now awaiting surgery in the morning to have his nuts lasered off. My boys have all been giving me a wide berth since we announced that Wyatt had to have it done. Baby asked if that's how they do "human guys" testicles: "Do they laser men's nuts too?" I was tempted to say yes. I didn't. Mr. wasn't enthused about me getting him but he did say I could have another. "It can't be a long hair and has to be as small as Sassy." I found Wyatt on craigslist and drove almost 100 miles to pick him up. We were told he was 100% dachsund but have since found out that he is 40% doxie, 40% Jack Russell, and 10% jackass. We're think of calling him JackDox and almost didn't cut the nuts and offer him for "stud" fees as a designer dog. I see those on craigslist all the time:

My bulldog knocked up my shitzu: Designer name: Bullshit
My lab knocked up my poodle: Designer name: Lapoo...big head...short kinky hair

I think you get the picture. Too many irresponsible pet owners out there. I did call the guy we got Wyatt from and he said "OMG! My sister is going to shit a brick. She paid $300 for him for my mom as her birthday present!" The reason his mom couldn't keep him is that she got in a car accident 3 weeks after getting him and shattered both her hips. Her horrific loss and our gain.

Middle turned 14 last Friday. I am hoping for a miraculous attitude change but I am so not holding my breath. At all. He is now going to therapy once a week but I am not so sure it is going to work out as HE decides when the session is over. Uhm, don't think that is going to keep going on.

Teen was cleared for the Air Force and is going to leave on the 20th of September. It is for the best and I think we're all just collectively walking on egg shells and it is working...so far...knock wood.

Kiki doesn't so much like Wyatt. She's bloodied his nose twice. I don't think he's going to learn too fast. She has been quite cranky and then quite clingy. She loves having the reign of the downstairs without having a yapping, wet shnozz in her face.

Sassy hated Wyatt at first. I saw a side of my doggy I wasn't too enthused about as you can see from that picture. She is now moping and wanting her buddy back because they are the bestest of playmates until Wyatt's sharp teeth nip just a bit too hard. They are funny to watch because Wyatt will actually tire of playing and 7yo Sassy will go bully him by pushing against him with her chest until he begins to play again. It's nice to see my old girl getting some new life in her and I think they are perfect together.

What else? What else? Oh yes! I just spent 6 FABULOUS days in Minneapolis for a conference and freaking LOVED IT! I can't wait for the next one in November in DC. I can't tell you how wonderful it was and so nice to meet new people and get paid compliments. Wow.

I return to work in a month and can't believe how fast my summer has gone. I have a lot of work ahead of me with regards to work and with my family. We're all taking baby steps and doing it all one at a time. I hope to begin doing My Town Mondays again when my life slows just a bit and until then I promise to check in more than once a month. :o)

Day 35: Changes.

2009-06-25T16:35:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up to the news that the beautiful Farrah Fawcett had succumbed to cancer. I first watched her on Charlie's Angels. When I played Charlie's Angels with my sisters I was always Kate Jackson's character and my oldest sister played Farrah's. She said it made sense because she was blonde. I wanted to be Farrah because I loved her smile and the way her eyes drew you in. So it is not a shock to confess that I was saddened by her passing but relieved that she is no longer suffering from that horrible disease.

This afternoon I jump on Facebook only to hear that Michael Jackson died. That totally bums me out and turns my world upside down. Michael Jackson. Dead. Right now he's singing "Beat It" while I type this and I'm still not understanding how the King of Pop could have died so young.

I swore that I would marry that man when I was 22 but by then he had gone his way and I had gone mine. He was beautiful. The way he moved. The way he smiled. The way he grabbed his crotch and made those noises made me want him even more. An icon is what he was; an idol. Someone to lust after, drool over, and a man that did what he wanted. I was very sad when all those stories started coming out about him and I ignore it because to me Michael will always be the guy in Thriller back when MTV was just starting out. I remember being so scared and wishing Michael would hold me the way he held that girl in the video. I was enthralled by his sequined glove, zippered jacket, and bright smile.

With his passing I hope his children receive all the counseling they will need to accept losing their father at such a young age. I hope they come to realize that once he was someone who embraced who he was. He was a man that held his head high. He didn't hide behind masks and subterfuge; he didn't dangle babies from balconies and he wasn't accused of henious acts against children. He was Michael Jackson. King of Pop. In my heart he always will be the man I once wanted to marry. RIP Michael - may your moonwalk light the way for those that follow behind you.

Today my phone rang and I let the answering machine answer it. It was Teen's recruiter calling letting him know that he received his medical waiver and that he has been accepted into the Air Force. I admit that I paced for awhile and almost cried. I know. I know. This is the right thing and it is what he wants but...the mama in me cries out in fear. I don't want my son going to war and seeing that - I don't want him living it. I want so much more for him that, for whatever reason, he's rebelling against. I wish I could wrap him in my arms like I did when he was a toddler and whisper to him how much I love him and how much I hope all his dreams come true. Press little kisses along his jawline as he giggled because he's so ticklish. Wash the dirty from between his tiny toes. Blow raspberries on his belly. Now? That would be considered child molesting...or incest because he's so old so I think I'll pass.

Changes. I am not so fond of them. I am listening to "Man in the Mirror" right now by Michael Jackson and it's funny it came on because that is the song that I always attributed to Teen. Sometimes I wish we could just stop time and reverse it and do things a little differently. Sometimes...changes suck.

Day 32: No Resolution.

2009-06-22T22:33:00.000-07:00

My cousin told me yesterday that if I didn't smoke once through the next 24 hours that there would be no reason for me to ever start again. I am proud today that I stood strong and that I did not smoke. I haven't smoked. The urge was very strong but I chose not to.

I can not believe the stress level that has been in my life for the past 24 hours. I can't believe that I survived that stress and am sitting here tonight listening to Teen's baritone talking to Baby and am wondering two things:

1. WTF is Baby doing up at this hour?

2. Will Teen ever find the source of his anger and work through it?

3. (Yeah...I know, I said 2!) Why is there so little choices for a homeless person in the city of Des Moines?

There was only one shelter in the entire city that had room so I took Teen down there and I could not leave him there. It was filthy. The place smelled so bad that it took everything I had not to vomit on the floor. From the outside the building looked nice but once you stepped through the locked door it was like going from heaven to hell.

So I talked to Mr. after calling the one place that place referred me to and we sat Teen down and made a contract with him. It is a chance we're taking but what else could we do besides leaving him there? It is an easy thing to say "He's OUT!" It's a whole other chapter to find a place to put him. I am not a person that can easily turn her back on her children no matter what it is they do. But...if Teen so much as says one angry word Mr. told him *he* would make damn sure that he was not only "out the door but that you will never be let back in." I hate that word. "Never" Never is a very long time and maybe Mr. will put him out that door but he will be allowed to come back at some point. I can't "never" my kids.

When my parents were mad at us as adults they would change their phone number and change all the locks on their doors even though none of us had keys. I could not do that. Unless Teen attempted to murder one of us I can't imagine doing that.

Anyway - Teen has agreed to our very strict terms and next Friday he will call the recruiter's office to find out if he gets into the Air Force. I will be hoping and hoping that they accept him. I think he needs it. He needs that structure and he needs to fly away from the nest and make his way into the world because right now he's floundering and that is not good for any of us.

Day 31: Heavy, Heavy, Heavy Heart Tonight.

2009-06-21T20:12:00.000-07:00

How do you handle a situation where your heart is going to shatter into a million pieces and you are unsure if you will ever be able to recover all the pieces? How do you draw the line between loving your child and putting your foot down in moments of violence? Do you call the police? What do you do?

Sadly Mr. and I were faced with that this evening and we're so unsure what our next step is. Do we file a restraining order? If we do where would he go? How would he support himself? How do you prepare your child to be an adult? How do you explain to them that violence and destruction in our home is not going to keep you in our home?

My heart is very heavy tonight as these question swirl about in my brain. The ache is so deep. This is my first born child. This is the one that holds the biggest piece of my heart. He is the one that made me Mom. He is the one that showed me what a mother should be.

Yet now I feel less like his mother and more like an awful bitch. But after this:

...I knew I had to think of the safety of Middle and Baby. I had to witness my youngest son curled in a ball on our sofa trying to be as small and unnoticed as he could and his little body shaking in fear and sob. The dog cowered under my desk whimpering. Middle yelling from upstairs. Mr. with a stance of fight or flight. And me. In shock and fear.

Teen thinks he should be able to tell Middle "Get away, no one wants you," and Middle should not say anything. Teen thinks he should be able to boss Middle around and Middle should take it. Middle won't take it anymore. He's taken it for 13 years and he's not taking it anymore. Middle is in therapy to deal with the tumultuous relationship between him and Teen. Their relationship is every mother's nightmare. You're torn between them wanting to mediate and yet knowing that something more needs to be done.

I know you all are sitting here thinking "Didn't Teen move out?" Yes, he did. My mom called lastnight and said there was a "situation" and that I needed to pick Teen up before there was hard feelings. So against Mr.'s wishes I brought him home with some very strict guidelines:

No access to the cars.
No access to pornography. (His computer had 45 viruses from pornography.)
No disrespect.
No more not coming home without letting us know in advance.
No more engaging in fights with Middle.
Do as you are asked.

That's it. Just those rules for him to hold on until he heard one or the other on July 3rd from the air force. He couldn't do it. He got into a verbal confrontation with Middle. I called him into our bedroom to discuss with him his behavior and all he could do was ask what I was going to do about Middle. I finally said "Teen, this is not going to work." I started crying. Sobbing. I didn't know what more to do. I can't have him fighting with Middle. I can't have Middle's therapy coming undone because Teen wants to be a jerk, as usual, to Middle. I can't risk losing Middle *and* Baby to the state because of Teens physical and verbal aggression. I won't.

So Teen yelled "So you're fucking kicking me out AGAIN!?" I said, between sobs, "Teen, if you can't follow the rules we gave you yesterday then you can't stay." The next thing I knew his fist went through our bedroom door and he went ballistic. Screaming, yelling, kicking things, stomping, swearing. Completely out of control. If I had called 911 they would have arrested him. My mom refuses him to come back to her place so I'm left with finding a home for Teen. He is staying with a friend tonight but after that who knows.

I need to find some place in this state that will take in a 19 year old and help him at the same time. I don't want my son living on the streets. I don't want him falling in a hole he'll never find a way out. I can't have him abusing Middle anymore. I can't feel unsafe in my own home.

So, tonight I go to bed with a heavy heart and pray an answer soon shows itself before anything more, or worse, happens. :(

Day 30: A Mother's Doubts

2009-06-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

When I found out I was pregnant with Teen I truly knew that I was not ready to be a mother but ready or not it was going to happen. We all know these little buggers don't come with an owner's manual and everyone you get advice from has their own idea of how kids should be raised:

Take a firm hand - show them who's boss!

Spare the rod; Spoil the child.

The child should always come first before anything else!

And on and on it goes until you feel like you're trapped on a fucking merry go 'round that just. Won't. Stop. There is rarely a kind word when you are handling all the stress and emotion that goes along with raising children, especially special needs, but someone is always there with words of condemnation when you make one mistake. When you say you are so stressed then it is a rare moment indeed when someone will say "Hey, let me give you a break. Go. Everything will be fine. Pamper yourself and let me take care of things."

Along with all the solicited and unsolicited advice comes the doubts and questions:

Do I spank?

Not spank?

Breastfeed? Bottle?

Circumcise? Not?

Co - sleep? Not?

Cry it out? Comfort every crying moment away?

And on and on. The questions plague you. Sometimes you lay in bed at night wondering what road you've taken and when the end will come. You wonder if you're up to this monumental task that has been thrust upon you.

Labor is hard. It really is. Your body works to expel a human being after it has grown from a microscopic sperm and egg to a living being. Your abdomen tightens with each contraction and is harder than granite. The pain steals your breath and you keep focused that soon that pain will pass and you will hold your child. Once you see that child everything changes. Everything. The life you knew before does not exist any longer. You think this will but there will be subtle changes in you that you may not even notice until days, weeks, months, or even years later.

As you float along in life you find yourself bumping into things, stumbling, and losing site of who you are as you become mother. You change as a woman. You change as a human being. You're either trying to be the parent yours were or you find yourself being exactly the opposite your parents were. You are either strict, over protective, over bearing, or you want to be your child's friend by being permissive and indulgent. There is no "right" way to parent - you just do it. You find your way on your own. You make your own path as mother.

Until. Until...a mighty wrench is thrown at you and then you slowly begin oozing pain and sadness. Until your soul cries out for answers that it can not get. And then? Then all those questions hammer away at your head until you lay awake at night listening to the beat and wondering when it will cease. Soon? Later? Never? When will you get the acknowledgement that you did the right thing? I don't know. No one does. And right now? I'm at the mighty wrench point. THWAP!

Right or wrong those doubts are there. I can't find the answers. I am not so sure I want them. "Be careful what you ask for." I've had that said to me many times in my life so I am being cautious to ask for anything right now. I had felt quite confident in my parenting abilities right up until these last two weeks and then it has come full - circle to being all those creeping doubts that begin the moment Teen was born.

Maybe. Maybe someday I can come to grips with the questions and pain that circles around me. Teen, Middle, and Baby. Did I do the right thing? Did I make the right choice in my parenting style? Did I find that middle ground or did I go too far one way or the other? Did I lead by example and if I did was it the example that was a good one?

For now? For now I will continue ignoring my doubts and plug along as mother and pray that things slow way down. Stay tuned for this is not finished. This is just the beginning of a long series of doubts that I will be posting over the next few weeks. Why? Because I need to work through it and to do that I need to write. Writing is my outlet. It helps me to work through all the doubts I have.

Day 27: Pickles Turned Out Better (aka You Don't Gag As Much)

2009-06-17T08:02:00.000-07:00

Well who would have thought that I would have survived twenty - SEVEN days of not smoking? I wasn't so sure and although there have been no fatalities there have been some close calls. I have noticed that I am a bit of a road rager so watch out if you're in Iowa. Some tips if you are driving in Iowa:

1. Use your fucking signal. It is not just a decoration! If you're going to turn then use the bastard or face my wrath!

2. Don't pull out in front of me if you're not going to go faster than I am. Just wait and then go.

3. Driving is not for those that do not have brains. So that means 98% of people in Iowa should surrender their license.

4. Speed limit is not a suggestion.

5. If you're too fucking dumb to make your kid ride in the BACK seat with a BELT on then surrender your kid to the state. (Seriously people, I watched a woman driving down a busy street with her kid STANDING in the front seat. Standing. In my car there is a rule: Backseat only with seatbelts firmly attached.)

6. Put your make up on BEFORE leaving home.

7. Your car is not a phone booth.

8. Multi tasking while driving is never a good idea.

9. If you're old then petition the state for an "older" lane for you. Either you're "Sunday" driving 7 days a week or you're an unsafe driver. OMG! I can't count how many geezers almost hit me in the last week.

10. Just because you're an 18 wheeler it doesn't give you the right to almost run me off the interstate at 70 mph!

Those are just a few tips. Oh...one more - kids don't belong in the back of a pick up truck.

So the second batch of pickles turned out better but I think I need to lower the level of vinegar on it because it's almost choking and I am going to take the salt down to a 3/4 C instead of 1 C. It might be just right by then. I believe in experimenting with foods! Have fun! Enjoy! Cooking should never be a chore but something enjoyed and something you can take the time to perfect.

Right now I'm watching Sweet Home Alabama on TV and it's one of my favorite chick flicks. I might quit watching long enough to go scramble me some eggs and top them with pico de gallo (homemade) to munch while watching. I find myself bored this morning and could easily slip...OH!

I forgot to tell y'all. They took me off my high blood pressure meds temporarily for a week. I think it's been causing my extreme fatigue as of late and the dizziness. I have been "napping" a lot and I'm not a napper. I'm normally an insomniac and this sleeping so much is driving me bonkers. So hopefully I'm off the meds for that and can soon give up on the migraine meds because I quit smoking. *fingers crossed*

Tomorrow is the one month not smokingaversary. Wow. A whole month! YAY!

Day 24: Still Plugging Away

2009-06-14T08:55:00.000-07:00

The pickles I made didn't turn out so great. I'll start a second batch today and not be so eager to double the pickling salt even though I doubled the recipe. Middle wasn't so put off by it but Mr. and I were fighting to hold back our gag reflex as we ate them. The onions were perfect and the tops of the pickles were fine but if you ate near the skin or ate the skin of the pickle it was like eating a handful of salt. GAG!

The Amish Friendship Bread turned out perfect. I added banana cream pudding mix and chopped walnuts to it. I can't wait for the next round of it. Oh. My. Even Baby ate a lot of and he hates nuts.

The not smoking is going along. It will be Month 1 on Thursday. I think I'll continue to count it in days just because I feel more "accomplished" that way.

I've been thinking about Teen a lot and how I miss him. I've not talked to him once since he left. He's as stubborn as his mother so I don't see him calling anytime soon so I just wait. I know that he'll be butting heads with my mother and she might call before him to tell me to come get him. It went that way a lot when he was younger. She couldn't stand more than a few hours with him at a time because he drove her nuts. Sure, he's older now but so is she so I don't think time has changed a lot lately. This is the same woman that didn't congratulate him for graduating but told him to get out of her room because he was "upsetting" her cats.

So...I'm off to make a 2nd batch of pickles and hoping they turn out better.

Day 22: Pickles, Scratched Lens, and Dumb Movie.

2009-06-12T19:32:00.000-07:00

When I woke up Thursday morning the lower half of my right eye was blood shot. I assumed it was from the 3.1 mile walk the night before and mentioned it to my friend Martey as we walked last night. (Never mind the freaking blisters on the backs of my heels from walking in brand new shoes! DOH!) Today I decided I need to go to the doctor because it was hurting. No leakage which is consistant with conjunctivis, aka pink eye, but everytime I blinked it felt as if something was lodged in it. I had the same thing 2 years ago and it turned out that I had scratched the lens.

Doc walks in and says "Hi, what's the problem?"

I took of my glasses and said "The eye."

His response? He pulled back, made a repulsive look on his face and said "Eww!"

Yeah, way to make me feel better doc. Good thing he was looking at my eye and not my crotch or I might have been really upset. He numbed it, dropped in the dye, shut the lights off, and ran the black light over it. I think that is so cool that they can do that. It really is amazing. Next time I'm going to squeeze a yellow highlighter in my eye and get a black light and check myself and save some money.

Lastnight while Martey and I were walking with Middle, her dog Nelson (who happens to love the smell of my Sassy's butt), and Sassy a huge ass beetle jumped on my tit. Now I didn't notice it but Middle did. I brushed at it and the damn thing clung to my shirt. I screamed like a girl and brushed several more times before the damn thing would fall off. Martey immediately went over with Middle to check it out, she tried to pick it up, and it tried to bite her. I'm sure everyone in the park heard me scream like a girl and I don't care. That bug had no business hanging out on my tit.

I did make some homemade dill pickles and they are pickling in my fridge right now. I don't know if they are any good but I found the post over at The Cutting Edge of Ordinary. Lisa has some kickass recipes over there and I love adding to my ever - burgeoning collection. I will let you all know how they turn out.

I also recently purchased some fresh blue and raspberries and will be adding them to her recipes for Millie's Quick Dessert Cake and will let you know how they taste. I've used the straw and blue berries before and they were yummy. The pineapple (fresh) was kickass as well.

Tonight we had steak tacos topped with homemade pico de gallo and sour cream. I loved them! Totally kick ass! Yum. We ate some at our local farmer's market yesterday so I thought I could whip them up. The hardest part was cutting the flank steak into small bits before frying. I'm sure if you grilled it first then chopped it that it would be easier but I like to cut the fat off mine then adding in cumin, salt, and pepper. It was yummy!

Today Middle, Baby, and I went to see the new Will Ferrell flick Land of the Lost. Horrible. Absolutely horrible. If you have children under the age of 11 don't take them. I was shocked at the sexual over tones, totally lame punch line, and the monkey - man humping the air as he told of the 7000 women at his disposal. It is not for children. I won't be buying that DVD and it can stay lost. Very sad and disappointed that Will Ferrell would be apart of that movie considering that it barely paid homage to the real Land of the Lost and turned it into nothing short of a porn for teens. Blech!

Day 22 went well. Next Thursday will be Month 1 of being smoke - free. I didn't really have the urges today but I guess chewing through 2 packs of gum might have helped. :)

Day 21: Three Weeks And Counting...

2009-06-11T15:34:00.000-07:00

Well I've made it 3 weeks with nary a cheat but the urge is still strong. I still want to inhale a cigarette and I still want to enjoy typing and inhaling at the same time. I don't miss the coughs, shortness of breath, or the smell. I just miss the campionship of the cigarette. I also hope these posts aren't scaring anyone away from quitting because the rewards will outweigh the withdrawal. Everyday is a struggle for any addict and you have to take it a moment at a time. I have found myself being more active than I did when I smoked. I can go out to movie theaters and restaurants without thought to upsetting a non - smoker. I also find myself looking at people who are smoking and envying them that joy but also feeling sorry for them as well. Addiction is difficult no matter what the habit.

I miss Teen. I miss him a lot. I wish he were here now but he isn't. I have been doing the "what ifs" all day. Would he be here if I were smoking? Most likely because I would have stopped, smoked, and given it more thought before tossing him out on his ear. I feel horrible that I've turned my back on him but at the same time hopeful that he will use this opportunity to get himself stabilized and on the right path. I am concerned about him being at my mother's because she isn't all that stable herself. I look for it to last a week before one of the two of them are calling asking me to take him back. And I will. He is my son and I won't turn my back on him but the boundaries and rules will be stiff.

I'm off to walk to the farmer's market and maybe buy myself some fresh veggies.

Day 19:Coming To An End

2009-06-10T20:49:00.000-07:00

This was a most difficult day. It was difficult to stand firm in my decision to have Teen move out. It was difficult not to cave and let him stay hoping things would blow over until the next blow up. It was difficult to watch him walk away from me and leave. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around his gangly shoulders and whisper that I was sorry and he could stay. My heart wept as I watched then I drove home. All the way home I kept reminding myself that this was the right thing. This was the thing that had to be done so that he could take flight and find his way. On the other hand I am not so sure that what I did was the right thing. Like a sunburn worsening as the sun goes down so do my thoughts and doubts.

I could use a long pull on a cigarette right now. I could use that gagging smoke just to settle my thoughts; to slow myself down so that I could go to bed and not think about the most difficult decision that I had to make.

He isn't sleeping under a bridge or with friends. He made the choice to call his grandmother, my mother, and ask if he could move in with her for a bit. I wasn't too keen on the idea but I also wasn't keen on sending him to a homeless shelter either so I talked to my mom and allowed it. He was extremely angry when he realized that I meant what I said. I meant every word. I wasn't going to allow him to continue being disrespectful of our home, our rules, or us. I wasn't going to blame his behavior on anything but the fact that this man - child has to learn that he can't continue acting like an ass and getting away with it.

I guess this is the beginning of a new path for myself and my son - as a mother and as an adult. It is time for him to pony up, man up, and grow up. He can't keep sniveling and whining because things are not going his way. It is time for him to realize that the real world is knocking and he needs to answer the door. He needs to step forth and make that leap on his own.

My mother insists that we allow Teen to have his car. We refuse. It is not in his name but in Mr.'s brother's name because Teen quit his job before he could pay to have it put in his name. Then he lost his wallet and even when we were going to pay for it he had no motivation in finding his wallet. Now? The insurance is in our name and we pay for it for that vehicle. The car is still in Mr.'s brother's name so we can't allow him to drive it. So he's without a car now and that pisses him off. He feels we are "ripping" him off and that is just not so but he is young, angry, and foolish and it is normal for him to feel this way.

He did inform me that his friends think I'm a bitch for "tossing" him out. That must mean I'm doing something right. I'm sad tonight. Sad that things came to this. Sad that he is living with my mother who is not well herself - physically or emotionally. Sad that a rift is between my son and I am not so sure it will heal. Maybe. Someday.

Day 19: The Long Day

2009-06-10T08:58:00.000-07:00

This morning I awoke to a dreaded feeling in my gut. I am sad because I had quite the row with Teen over the phone and he has yet to come home. I did tell him that when he did manage to being his ass home we'd be having a very serious talk.

His entire attitude was shitty.

"Look, it is after 1 am and I thought you'd have the courtesy to use the cell phone we let you borrow to call and let us know you would not be coming home."

"I thought you would have the fucking courtesy to assume that if I'm not home by midnight I won't behome."

The conversation deteriorated from there because I told him he had no right to speak to me in that manner. He continued to be disrespectful until I said "I'm done with this conversation." He quipped "Yeah, you're so done with this fucking conversation." I then said, quietly, "Teen, when you come home tomorrow I want you to pack your things and find another place to live." Then I hung up. So I threw down the gauntlet and am preparing to march upstairs and pack his clothes for him.

After a short night of little sleep and lots of tossing I decided that I am only crippling him by continuing to give in to his wants. What he needs is a parent who isn't afraid of her son being angry at her. He needs a mother who is going to stand strong. Now is the time to advocate - but for me. I need him to understand that he can't go out drinking all night and rolling in at odd hours only to shower, eat, sleep, and use the phone to call his friends. He needs to respect our rules and boundaries or forge ahead on his own and make his own rules and boundaries. Sometimes the easiest road to travel is the one of hard knocks and maybe this is just what he needs.

I'll keep you updated. For now I'm going to go shower and get his things packed.

This Parenting Gig Just Gets Harder

2009-06-09T21:53:00.001-07:00

Tonight I sit here in relative silence contemplating my oldest child's latest rounds of attitude. He does not work so he relies on Mr. and I to provide him with all his needs. And wants. Lots of wants. Since he's found himself a new ~~lay~~ girlfriend he expects us to pony up the money to pay for their ~~sexual escapades~~ dates, pony up one of our cell phones so that he can call her when he's exactly two minutes from her so she knows her ~~lover~~ knight in shining armor is on the way.

Tonight I wonder if I am crippling my son more than I am helping him. I wonder if I need to draw a hard line in the sand and say "ENOUGH!" Do I force him to seek employment in an environment where jobs are extremely hard to find? Do I allow him to go to these parties and drink (under age) when there is the risk that he could be in a serious accident?

We did take the car from him because he has proven himself to be very unreliable when it comes to driving it. He also can not pay for the insurance coverage or the fuel to make the vehicle run. Any attempts at getting him to apply online or in - person are met with "later" or some other excuse. When asked to do something around the house it is usually done half - assed and with an attitude. When Miss Thang was over lastnight he wanted the privilege of talking to us as if we were the children and he was our parent. I finally had enough and said "Listen buddy: I'm the parent and you are the child. I don't care if you are 19 or 90 you will not disrespect me in my home." He pouted until she nibbled on his neck and distracted him from his mumma's reprimands.

So I'm at a loss. Mr. is getting hot under the collar towards me because I am being so lenient. He thinks I need to tell Teen to get a job, get a life, and stop mooching everthing off us. He failed his SECOND attempt at getting his aviation degree but says he can go back in the fall to "finish up where I left off." He is still waiting to find out if he is going to get a medical waiver from the Air Force to join them so in between all this waiting and third attempting he is staying home doing absolutely nothing besides chasing after this latest ~~piece of tail~~ girlfriend.

I have a pretty good relationship with all of the boys but as I forge forth into the land of no - longer - a - child - but - not - quite - an - adult I am unsure of where my footing should be. Do I draw the hard line and give an ultimatum and hope he doesn't buck and run? Do I continue to needle and cajole him into getting a job and praying that one day he might just do that?

All of this has my heart in my stomach, my nerves on edge, and my patience wire thin. Any parents with older kids out there that can give advice?

Day 18: Attitude is 9/10ths of the Battle.

2009-06-09T10:04:00.001-07:00

These past two days have become a very large struggle in my fight to not smoke. I find myself craving a cigarette so much that it is an almost - physical pain. I want to enjoy the sweet wonders that emit from the end of the death stick. (I have taken to calling them death sticks just to help myself not give in to the cravings.) I struggle not to hurt Mr. each time he walks out the door to enjoy the sweet goodness that an addict can only get from their addiction.

Some will tell you that it is more psychological than physical but the psychological is so strong you begin to feel it physically. There is that urge to walk in to the store, purchase a pack, take off the cellophane, inhale them, and then shake one out. The moment where it touches your lip, you tighten your lips so that you can light it. The flick of the lighter, the flame drawing ever closer, and you pulling in your breath to help ignite the end. The acrid smoke filling your lungs. The beautiful feeling of the poison coursing through the veins. The receptors in your brain accepting that poison as you feel soothed.

It is like the death of a loved one. It is as if you've had an amputation. It is a very sick addiction that will haunt you for years to come. Your need is really a want but you can only think of what you are missing. The death stick was there when you would cry. It was there when you were mad. It was there after a particularly good bout of sex. It was there when you lost a loved one. It was there when you fought with your husband. Now it is gone. Gone forever if you allow it.

I miss my old friend. I miss it like I miss my grandmother. Although I would stop craving them if I could go talk to my grandma about it. I might drive over to her grave today and do just that. She would say "Girl, you should have quit that nasty habit a long time ago." Then she would change the subject to something that actually was important besides my need to end this pain. She would distract me from wanting to discuss it and keep it on my mind. Then before I left she would say "preTzel, attitude is 9/10ths of the battle. You can do this. If you can give birth you can quit smoking." Yeah grandma, but at least with the labor and birthing process I had the option of pain killers. These patches do very little to curb all that.

Day 17: Part Two...Bitch, Who Do You Think You Are?

2009-06-08T14:44:00.000-07:00

I am one who laments about the lack of health care in this country. I think it is terrible that we have people who do not have health care coverage and barely make enough money to meet their bills each month. I think this country should be embarrassed that there are people working a full - time job but don't make a living wage.

Today I had the unpleasant experience of contacting my Big Country, Big Shark insurance company to inquire as to why some bills were being denied coverage. Some were because they wanted to know if the injury was work - related or third - party liability. The majority was because Merciful Hospital didn't code in the correct code for the billing so the secondary (we have primary and secondary through BCBS) was turning it down.

So today...when I am totally craving the need to smoke...I called them and informed Merciful Hospital's billing department that they needed to correct their coding to get paid. The woman was a complete cunt and not "merciful" at all.

"I'm sorry ma'am but we don't make mistakes like that."

"Well, BCBS is telling me that the pre - auth code and the billing code do not match and if you want your $378.08 you will need to match the codes and resend it."

"Well, you send us the payment then submit it to BCBS because we don't make mistakes like that."

"Hold please...This conversation may be recorded for verification purposes in a court...Okay, I'm back."

"What was that message?"

"Oh, it just said that all telephone coversation is being recorded for legal purposes. So are you telling me that you are refusing to correct your mistake so you can get payment and are demanding that I do your job by paying out of pocket for this large expense that is easily covered by your billing department doing their job correctly? Am I hearing you correctly?"

"Ma'am, I will send this back to our claims department for them to straighten out."

"Just so I understand you: You will now correct your mistake and resend it to BCBS for payment?"

"Yes. That is what I am saying."

"Just so you know...this conversation has been recorded and if Merciful Hospital takes me to court over this bill this conversation will be played in court."

"There will be no court action. This will be straightened out immediately. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No. That will do it. Have a nice day."

I hung up then said "Bitch, who do you think you are?"

They don't make mistakes. Fuck if they don't. I've had collections calling me up the ass over their mistakes. I won't be paying for their mistakes. Ever. By the way...I didn't record the conversation but that's between me and you. *wink*

Day 17: What The Hell Was I Thinking?

2009-06-08T06:01:00.000-07:00

It has now been 17 days and the urge to smoke is stronger than ever. I can't stand the smell of them, can't stand the smell clinging to Mr.'s clothes, but I want one. I want that sweet nicotine racing through my veins. I want that release of tension that only it can bring. Last night I dreamt that I cheated and smoked one cigarette. One. Then I was all crazy mowing grass, drying it in my garage, then rolling it in paper sack paper to make a cigarette from it. Silly girl.

Well, Middle made it to summer school and his first day was this morning. He'll be there until 11:30 then I'll pick him up and he'll come home for the rest of the day. He does this for the next six weeks. Let us all hope and pray that the bugger passes it.

I never wanted a daughter. I can't remember having an urge to have a little girl and watch her grow. I knew what I was like as a teenager and I wanted to spare the world from a mini - me and somehow I managed to avoid that sperm that made girls. The girls that hang around the boys are so giggly and high - pitched in their voices and it drives me bonkers. I love little girls but teenage girls baffle my mind. The goofy way they act, the skanky clothes they wear, all that make up on their faces, and the respect level for themselves is so little that I worry for them.

Teen has found himself a girlfriend. He likes the girl. The first night they were together he didn't roll in until 4:30 in the morning. I knew something was strange Friday when I yelled up that I was going to the store and did he need anything and he responded with "Mom? Can you buy me some rubbers?" I didn't ask any questions just said I would. Baby, on the other hand, was a bit shocked.

"Did he just say what I think he said?"

His blue eyes were round and a bit surprised. I affirmed that Teen did say what he thought he said and Baby said "Oh. My. God." I wish I had my camera pointing at his face so you all could see the look on his face. Mr. cracked up when I told him.

Baby and I walked to Big Name Grocery and I had to ask for a box of "rubbers" and Baby's face was soooo red. I asked him why and he said "Well, you're a girl and I'm a guy!" I laughed so hard I thought I would pee myself. A guy? Baby? Nah. He's just a baby that won't be a guy for a few more years. It always cracks me up to watch Baby watch his two older brothers and be embarrassed or disgusted with their behavior. Sometimes he will regress and throw a tantrum but for the most part he's a pretty mature kid.

So...back to Teen. After Teen showered that afternoon he asked me to take a look at his back and see if he had scratches on it. I didn't bat an eye and told him that he did have scratches on his back. I then asked the two important questions every mother should ask her adult 19 year old son: "Did you wear a condom?" "Yes." "Is she over 18?" "Yes." Okay then, fuck your little heart out dude! No. I didn't say that! I just nodded and left my room with not another comment.

The next night he asks me for money to take this new girl to the movies and I said okay and handed over $40 cash and put $20 in his gas tank. See, Teen does not have a job. He's basically ~~mooching~~ using our funds to fund his ~~sex~~ social life. Teen didn't come home until 11 am on Saturday morning. Imagine our surprise when Teen is tired and goes to bed after taking a shower. When he wakes he again asks about the scratches and I said "Son, it's time you got her declawed." That girl is a scratcher!

So that night we have a long talk with Teen. We can't afford $150 weekends. Hell, if I am not spending that amount on me I sure as hell ain't spending it on him and his woman! He also informed us that he was "so drunk" he didn't know where he was, and assumed they had sex "because we woke up naked together." He was in MY car. MY. CAR. He did say he didn't drive but let a girl drive. Now the car only has 1/2 a tank of gas (after having a full tank when he left) and has an extra 150+ miles on it. Teen isn't sure where they all went because he and his woman were drunk in the back seat and something about leaving a party "before the cops arrived."

My son is a minor when it comes to drinking. In Iowa you have to be 21 and he is 19. Did I mention that my insurance does not cover other people driving that car? Teen was visibly upset when we told him he would not be taking our vehicles out. I am financially responsible for any fuck ups this kid makes. This kid is mad because he doesn't understand why we are trying to "ruin" his social life. I quietly informed him that I am not trying to ruin his social life but trying to protect him and my assets. We let him know that he needed to get a job and fund his own ~~sex~~ social life and start paying some of his own bills.

So through all of this trial and trouble I keep thinking how yummy a cigarette would be to smoke away all this trouble. One puff. 17 days out and it would be silly and foolish to pick one up now but I tell you that these boys do push a mommy to smoke. On Saturday I asked Mr. "What the hell was I thinking when I quit right before summer?!?"

Day 14: Life's Hard Lessons Mingled with Failure

2009-06-03T14:07:00.001-07:00

Well, I made it to day 13 with not so much as a sneak or second hand inhale. I've been strong and standing strong because this is something I want to beat. I want to control my life instead of my life controlling me. I want to stand strong, on my own two feet, and crow with pride when I can finally celebrate 365 days of not smoking. I want to know that when I am done taking a shower that scent will stay with me instead of reeking like tar and nicotine. I want to know that my children's lungs will no longer be filled with second hand smoke.

So Day 12 was rough for me. Very rough. It was the day I almost gave up giving smoking up. We were told that Middle was basically going to be held back. It wasn't a pretty scene at my house. Middle was swearing that he only had to get Class A and B up and leave Class C where it was. Mr. Assistant Principal (from this point Mr. PA) stated that he did *not* tell Middle that. He told him he had to get all three up. Middle cried, I cried, Middle yelled, I yelled, and the day was a waste of emotions.

Day 13 I get home from work and read this e - mail from Mr. PA:

As far as English, Scienc, and Social Studies. I told him that he needed to get at least two more of these up. [Middle] and I then looked at the possibilies and saw that science and social studies gave him the best chance. I miss spoke below. No matter what the case [Middle] has no right to scream at you, me or any of the teachers because he has been informed multiple times on how close he is to not passing the grade. The ball has been in his court for awhile with no concern on his part until now.
Please call if you have further questions.
Thanks
[Mr. PA]

Now notice he wrote at the beginning "...get at least two more of these up. Since Science was already up that left Social Studies which Middle has been hammering on. This means Mr. PA not only "miss spoke" below he was a jackass for letting me think that he had to do all THREE of them! When I spoke to him on the phone yesterday I was very kind and understanding because he is the assistant principal and this ball falls in Middle's lap because it was *his* responsibility to do his homework...BUT! I was miffed that this man didn't make sure he had all his i's dotted and his t's crossed because feeding me his line of "Middle can't possibly get the English grade up so he will be held back."

Needless to say I looked online and Middle passed Social Studies so his ass will be attending Summer School to pass on to the 9th grade. This means *I* get the lucky draw of getting up to get him up to drag his ass up to the school.

I am a tiger for my kids, I advocate, and I'm ready to stand up and growl when someone steps on their toes...BUT! I do not advocate my child not doing his homework and then pissing and moaning when they fail. Bullshit buddy! That's your job! Go to school and get an education. Period.

So now I'm at the two week mark. Did I make it the entire two weeks without so much as a puff? Did I make it without so much as cheating by inhaling second hand smoke?

I am sad to say that I did. Sad because the cravings are still eating at me daily. I feel so weak because all I want to do is buy a pack and INHALE deeply. Breathe in and enjoy that sweet smoke choking my lungs. I will stay strong. I know summer is going to be the toughest but I plan on toughing it out and making it through. I am proud of myself. I'm proud of being able to not smoke and knowing the money I'm saving by not doing it. I'm proud that I am a non - smoker who is not harping on smokers to stop. Not even Mr. He can smoke - just not around me.

So I'm done with work. I'm off for the summer and I hope to be blogging a lot more. I might just make this my new addiction. :D

Cousins.

2009-06-01T13:48:00.000-07:00

Last year I wrote a blog post about suicide and how it affected me and my life. It's been almost a year since that post and I think on it from time to time but I do not dwell on it. Today, of all days, a relative found me through that post and commented on the post. The reason I say "of all days" is because today is my 13th wedding anniversary and I was thinking on the suicide post at work. I wondered about Connie, Stevie, Harlan, Johnny, and Ricky. Where would they all be in their life? Would they be celebrating something too?

The person who responded is my cousin. It is unfair that I know exactly who he is but he does not know who I am. I try to stay "anonymous" on this blog simply because I do not want my family to find this blog. I blog about some very personal things that would hurt some of my family were they to read it. While I really don't give a flying fig about the majority of them reading it because they are your standard toxic asshole that is best cut from your life; I do worry about some.

"Harlan" is my cousin on my mother's side. He is a first cousin and I have not seen him in a long, long, long time. I think the last time I saw Harlan he was a small boy full of smiles that didn't quite reach his brown eyes. I remember his mom, A, and how sweet she was to me. I also remember the horror they lived through. Gut wrenching, TV - movie - of - the - week stuff that would make you shiver and tremble in fear. He was a young boy with more on his shoulders than a young boy should ever have. I never felt sorry for him though. For some reason I felt "Little Harley" would be a stronger man than the example his father set for him. I think, if I remember correctly, that he did exactly that. From last I heard he was a dentist or was going to be a dentist or something along those lines - a far cry that his own father's ambitions in life.

In his comment to me be speaks kindly of his grandfather, Harlan, and I want to share that with all of you. Why? Because I did not speak much of him in my post. I do know more about him than I wrote and I think by the time I got to him I was so ragged and worn about the open soul - wounds talking about Connie and Stevie that I just did not want to share anymore.

Harlan saved my mother more than once. He stood up to that dragon lady of a mother she had when she was abusive to my mother. My mother told me once that she truly believed that Harlan saved her life on more than one occasion.

This is what "Harlan" wrote about Harlan:

Harlan Mott was in and out of prison for sure. I've heard he wasn't the greatest father. However, all the people you have immortalized in your posts had deep character flaws as well. But I can tell you he was the greatest grandfather that ever lived. I remember him taking me fishing for the first time when I was maybe 8. He was kind and gentile, loving and helpful. I remember spending time at his apartment, where he would watch tv with me. I remember eating all his grapes. I remember him running me up and down the street as I learned to ride a bike that was a little too big for me. I'm not a writer and can't put it as eloquently as you have in your memories of Steve jr. But I remember him just as clear in my mind as events from yesterday, and they shine and glow just as brightly today as the day they happened. I'm sorry you didn't have a chance to get to know him as I did, but his suicide was a huge trauma from me. I still miss him greatly, and think about him often.

See. While he may not have been the greatest father he made up for that in being a wonderful grandfather to a boy that truly was in need of one.

Harlan, you may not be a writer but your words are as eloquent as they can be. I am very glad that your grandfather was there for you and I am very sorry that your father treated you and your mother the way he did. I know that more than once you stayed with us for protection and my dad promising to blow "that bastard's" head off if he tried to abuse you both while at our house. I am sorry that it took so long for your mother to leave. Abuse is an awful thing to endure and you endured your share far longer than most.

Please know that you can e - mail me (link is on the right) and I will e - mail you back and reveal which cousin I am. I am a bit older than you (but not by much mister!) I would love to touch base and catch up with you.

Day 9: Prowling and Growling - Rinse and Repeat

2009-05-30T15:46:00.001-07:00

I think the weekends are the hardest because I find myself, once again, prowling around and growling at anyone who dares to step around me. I'm anxious, nervous, tired, mad, and just plain mean today.

I can't help thinking that if I had not quit I would feel MUCH better than I do right now. I wouldn't feel this rage welling up in my gut and the need to cut anyone down around me. I wouldn't feel this potent anger that seethes from my pores. I'm so angry that I smoked. I'm so angry that I can't smoke. I'm just fucking angry at the world right now.

If my mother would answer her phone I'd probably unload on her and tell her what a piece of shit mother and grandmother she is. My stepdad stopped by today and he heard it instead. Of course he said "So, still not smoking huh?" Then he laughed. I just said "Yeah, well, I don't want to be like that bitch you're married to." He stopped laughing. I said "You know, if you divorced her some people might think you regained some brain cells and your balls." Again, no laughter. I guess he doesn't like someone poking fun at him, his intelligence, and his manhood.

Mr. is getting on my nerves. He is still smoking. He gets that pleasure of nicotine surging through his system. He gets that pleasure that only a smoker knows. I'm so mad at him I want to split him in half. DAMN him for continuing to smoke. But, on the other hand, if he didn't we would probably want to murder each other instead of me just wanting to murder him.

Tonight I'm going with my friend to the Funny Bone for some much needed comic relief. Mr. keeps laughing at stuff I say and I want to smash his face in with my knuckles.

We were at Menards yesterday and the guard at the lumber gate asked "Do you know where you're going?" I replied with "Yeah, somewhere back there." Now that is a reasonable answer because I was going somewhere back there. Mr. laughed his ass off and didn't stop until I threatened to punch him. On the way home I saw a very young male in a Monte Carlo SS and I said "He's too young for that car. I need it so I can take that fucker up on the highway and open it up and race like the fucking wind." Again with that damn laughter until I made the same threat. He said I sound like a man. I said "No, because a man can't string together enough words to make an intelligent thought. You're a perfect example."

Today my dad is over and Mr. tells him something I said as if it was his own thought and I said "Nice one, genius." Then he asks if that was a put down. Yeah, genius, it was. What of it?

GRRR! Tonight I plan on getting drunk but I know if I do I'll probably want a smoke so I won't do it. I am going to get tipsy enough that I pass out and don't feel like shit in the morning and won't find bodies strewn about my lawn.