Monday, June 21, 2010

I am the Wizard

I learned that, if I ever go looking for my hearts desire again... I shouldn't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with.- Dorothy

Along the journey of relationships in life I have found that I am indeed HOME.

What is home? For me it is that place where I feel good in my own skin.

I have continued in life to have those people who have made me feel intellectually inept. I have also had people who have made me feel like there is hope. I continue to read and learn. I don’t like to feel like the scarecrow. I don’t like to have that overwhelming feeling that I don’t belong in a crowded room of scholars. I like to feel like what I have to say means something to someone at some point in time. I like to feel like things that I say and do have an impact on others as well.

I tutor on a weekly basis, I do Sudoku puzzles on the toilet, I read books and if I don’t know something I look for the answer instead of saying “I don’t know”. At my age, knowledge is key. Green Sludge takes over the majority of your brain cells by a certain age and I am on a quest to rid myself of that.

My Butter (age 9) told me that Mothers are a special group of people. They know everything. Even when you don’t think they will, they do. They have the biggest brain because they are always in need of knowing the answer to the questions that their kids ask. I am NOT a scarecrow, I am a mother.

I have been burned by too many people. I have given my heart and had it squished on. I don’t like that feeling. I have to overcome the feeling of being a Tin Man and continue to love. Back a few months ago, I did a whole post on LOVE and what the word means to me. If I tell you that I love you, it does not mean that I want to have sex with you. It also does not mean that I am “in love with” you. It means just one thing. There is a little compartment in my heart that is there for ONLY YOU! During the course of my 41 ½ years, I have loved many and love most of them still. I was asked once if I “hate” someone. I can tell you that there is not a single person that has entered into my life that I “HATE”. I despise some, there is no doubt there. I feel bad for others; there are a few more of those. I could not “hate”. I understand in my own way that there are different strokes for different folks. Mean spirited, hateful, cruel and just bad people do exist. I am not one of them. Burn me once shame on you, burn me twice shame on me. Letting myself be burned happens quite a bit and I have the scars to show it. But I have not lost my heart; I have just put a slightly stronger course of bubble wrap around it. I am not a Tin Man, I am who I am.

Courage was one of those tough things that I had to work a little harder on. I was taught by my daddy that there was nothing I could not do that I put my mind to doing. After many years of rejection, disappointment and failure I know now that I can do anything that I WANT to. I am my own wizard.

I have been married for 18 ½ years to a man who you could classify in my life as my best friend. Yesterday, Butter came to me and asked “Do you ever wish you didn’t marry the man that you did?”

This was a very deep question for a little boy, but I knew that it had to be coming from somewhere so I asked why he was asking. His answer was very simple, “when you have mornings like this one when you do a lot of arguing, I wondered if you ever feel like you married the wrong man.”

How precious. The little guy has a lot of growing up to do.

My answer may not have been so simple but it got the point across. I never have my doubts. I wish for more money. I wish for more time. I wish for less stress and less fights but all in all I never wish for a different husband. Without this husband, I would not have these children. Without this husband, I would not have this life. Without this husband, I would not have these friends. My life would be different all together.

It is through my own courage that I am where I am today. It is through courage that I have been able to take chances on jobs and relationships. It is through my own courage that I have become the person that I am today. I am NOT a cowardly lion.

Another quote from the Wizard of Oz, Someplace where there isn't any you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It's not a place you can get to by a boat or train. It's far, far away... behind the moon... beyond the rain.-Dorothy.

There is always another place, but is it YOUR Oz? I am the great and powerful...Wizard of my OWN Oz.

Thank you to all that have helped me get to this place.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Lions and tigers and bears...

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! It seems as though my life is full of Oh My’s and my past is no different. But along my life trip down the yellow brick road, my experiences as I went through the Scarecrow and the Tin Man part of my life made me just that much more leary of my surroundings.

The story and the movie have other characters in it besides me, like the munchkins and the flying monkeys. I can even relate to the trees that through apples at me. But really and truly the longest relationship on my way to become the Wizard I am today, was that of my cowardly lion stage.

Yeh, it's sad, believe me, Missy,
When you're born to be a sissy
Without the vim and verve.
But I could show my prowess, be a lion not a mou-ess
If I only had the nerve.
I'm afraid there's no denyin' I'm just a dandelion,
A fate I don't deserve.
I'd be brave as a blizzard....I'd be gentle as a lizard....
I'd be clever as a gizzard....
If the Wizard is a Wizard who will serve.
Then I'm sure to get a brain, a heart, a home, the nerve!

During the year that I spent trying hard to get out of a relationship that I knew was wrong, I was working in a hospital kitchen. This was a job that I loved. I was 16-17 years old and was making a really good wage. In fact it was more than what today’s minimum wage is, and that was over 20 years ago. I had 5 really good friends at work. Here is a big surprise for you, they were all men. Chris, Peter, OB, Boob (the nickname my brothers gave him), and Tyrone. I didn’t have to worry about what I said to them, I didn’t have to worry about whether I was wearing make up on a daily basis and they didn’t care if I talked to another one of the guys during the day. I was not afraid to stick my neck out and help out at the dishwasher, grab a brillo pad and scrub a pot, and was not a sissy about doing my own stocking if I needed to when Chris was busy. I was one of the guys.

Every night it was the same routine, set up, serve, break, and then clean up. I was the one who didn’t mind if I broke a nail and was not afraid to wipe down the tables after the dinner hours were done.

There was this one guy. He was really sweet. He came down most nights to take his break with OB while we were cleaning the dining room. OB worked for house cleaning and so did Boob. Boob and Chris were great friends too and my boss liked this guy. Boob’s mom was a nurse upstairs and he was a hard worker as well. Boob ordered the exact same sandwich every night. Ham and American cheese on a bulkie, dry, with two mayo packets on the side, three pickles and a Coke. I started watching the clock and would have it made for him before the rush came through because I knew his time was limited for dinner break.

The day before Valentine’s Day that year OB and Chris told me that it was Boob’s birthday the next day and suggested that I get him a card. So that night on the way home from work I stopped at the little plaza down the street. As I walked in for a birthday card I realized that it was Valentine’s Day and did a full 180. They were not going to get the best of me. I am gullible and believe most everything that people tell me but they had forgotten that I grew up with a bunch of brothers that were always making me look like a foolish little girl.

My bad, it was his birthday and he got me a Valentine’s Day card with an invitation to a Lover Boy concert (ticket included) and then…well, lets just say that night I refused anything the Turd gave me and broke it off completely. Boob was a little more than a friend, Duh, I didn’t see it but the other guys did.

I spent three years with Boob. He taught me a lot about myself but at the same time made me very scared of life’s lessons. He was a great guy and I could totally see myself having gotten married and being in a different place right now.

He on the other hand could not. I spent three years listening to the line “too bad you were not 21 or we could do ____ tonight”. See, here was a big issue. Boob was 6 years older than me. I heard a lot of “too bad” ’s during the relationship. Don’t get me wrong, it was a really good relationship, but there were many a time that I was left to fend for myself. Not that I expected him to be my protector but occasionally my defender would have been nice.

Let me give you an example:

Remember OB? Well, OB’s wife Sandy came and got a job. She got a job in the kitchen with me. Policy stated that spouses could not work in the same department. Sandy was a hoot. She seemed very nice and befriended me almost immediately. I am a pretty easy going person so it was not hard. We hung out on occasion at work and sometimes even after. One night she invited Boob and I to their house for a cookout. We arrived, had a glass of whatever, stood around the back yard for a while and shot the bull. OB and Boob had this brilliant idea that I was hot and needed to cool off, at which point the two of them picked me up and threw me into the pool. Sandy was bull, she sent the boys off to the store for ice and brought me upstairs to change into some dry clothes. Since Sandy was like a foot smaller than me and the size of a six year old waste wise, she gave me some of OB’s scrubs to change into. Once I was dry and we were downstairs again, she asked me how it was to be in her husband’s pants. I laughed it off but she was not joking. For the next ½ hour, she drilled me about how she knew that I was a “HO” and that I was sleeping around with all the guys and even though her husband denied it there was not way I could. Where the h.e.double hockey sticks the guys went for ice was beyond me? But when they got back I was in tears and wanted to go home. Boob obliged and off we went. As I was telling him the story he just shrugged his shoulders and told me that “she’s a little off sometime”. OFF?

Never did he defend me, never did ever stand up and be the guy. I spent a lot of time cowering in the corner afraid that I was doing something wrong and maybe I could do better “if only”.

I get back to the start of this trip to Oz and remind you that there is a reason that people come into your life. Sometimes it is for a season; sometimes it is for a day. Sometimes they are a good influence and sometimes they were not. As I look back on my past and remember all the friends that I have had, I know that my brief encounter with past boyfriends caused me grief and strength. I was a very sheltered little girl who grew up in a very small town and spent many a day in mud puddles or patching scrapes from the pricker bushes.

For those friends of mine now, who have helped me build my confidence over the years…I thank you!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Still on the Yellow brick road...Tin Man

My last post started my journey to Oz. Along my trip down the yellow brick road, I started off as a person with a huge heart and yet lost it somewhere along the way. I became a Tin Man.

As a young girl leading a somewhat sheltered life as a daughter of a loving mother and father whose goal for their family was to provide love and support for their children, I was unaware of some of the types of people that were out there.

I mentioned how I did not “like” girls. Life as one of the boys was so much easier. I played football at the corner with the guys. We hunted frogs in the swamp and chased fireflies at night. Life was grand for me and girls were mean. The neighborhood boys were just that. I never felt any sort of need or want to make any of those relationships anything but friendship. Who can kiss a boy who eats worms and licks mud? Uck, not me. My friendships with the guys caused more problems with girls than I would like to remember.

My dad was very strict about the rule, NO DATING UNTIL YOU ARE 16. I cheated once on that rule, but that is another story or at least the end of all of these. My friend Carolyn from high school had a dad that was just as strict the only differences were that she was three months older than me and her dad said no dates out alone until you were out with the boy at least three times with a friend and the friend was comfortable with your choice as well. Carolyn could not wait until I was old enough to come along. She claimed she valued my opinion. Any way, we double dated with Vin and Jon. Date for me went well, date for Carolyn not so well. Vin and I went out only with the two of them and then when he called for a date, just the two of us, he asked like this…

Vin:”You wouldn’t want to go out with me, just the two of us, would you?”

Me: “Sure, why not?”

Vin: “No you wouldn’t.”

Me: “Okay, then, I wouldn’t” I have always been one to be quick with sarcasm.

Vin: “I knew it!” and an abrupt hang up.

We never did go out on a second date. But it wasn’t much after that that Carolyn met John. John had a friend, Walter, or as my brothers so nicely nicknamed him, Wal-turd. This date started with the ever-so-favorite-line of my friends. MaeRae has such an outgoing personality and is comfortable with everyone so it won’t matter if he is shy. Lovely!

Big rule in our house, you needed to come to the door to pick me up, don’t you EVEN think of sitting in the driveway and honking. Carolyn knew this rule, so everyone came to the door to get me. Wal-turd said nothing. Just stood there. Carolyn and John did all the talking and off we went. Needless to say, the date went okay and I agreed to a second date. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad. We went out again. We went out again for an entire year. This is where the Tin Man in me started.

I am one of those types of people who would do anything for anyone at anytime with out questions asked. If you need something and I have it, I offer it. I would give the shirt off my back for anyone, and I always start by giving it without any hesitation. This type of personality has burned me more than once. I have a really hard time hurting someone’s feelings. This was the case with Wal-turd.

His parents were WHACKED! Oh, I don’t mean whacked, I mean, TOTALLY EFFED UP IN THE HEAD. The emotional abuse that I witnessed towards each other and towards Wal-turd was amazing. My heart bled for this boy and I kept thinking that as long as I loved him and told him otherwise, the fact that his parents called him useless and stupid would make him see some worth to his life. His sister was the golden child and could do no wrong. His older brother was a sleeze and yet the apple of his mother’s eye. Even his grandparents didn’t treat him the same way as they did the other grandchildren. I started noticing strange things happening and made me wonder but yet stick around.

He was scheduled to go into the Marines after graduation. I thought, but never voiced, this was my out of the relationship. One of his friends voiced it. So the day before he was supposed to leave for boot camp, he had said friend run over his foot with an automobile so that he was out of the deal due to injury. This bothered me intensely since we were a military loving family and had pride in all of our service men.

I went to church every weekend and sometimes, actually pretty often, went to church in his town. The priest there had been a teacher of mine in 10th grade and so every time I was there Father would stop me after mass and ask me how I was. This made him very jealous. Another thing that bothered me.

I stepped on a toothpick and drove it right through the bottom of my foot, total Majewski move, and was on crutches for a week. The following week he came to pick me up for a date and was on crutches himself. He had cut the bottom of his foot wide open on a piece of glass. Strange thing was that he was alone when it happened and no one knew where the glass came from.

I had a friend. His was convinced that I was turning gay because I went on retreat weekends with her and talked to her on the phone.

I tried so many times to break up with him. It just wasn’t happening. For Christmas he bought me a $200 leather coat. This was 1985; $200 for an 18 year old was a lot of money. I wanted the coat so bad. I really wanted the coat, but knew that if I took it I was stuck with him for longer. So I claimed it was uncomfortable and I wanted him to return it. I refused on many occasions to go with him to try on another. I thought if I crushed his heart he would break up with me.

That same day we went to his grandmother’s for dinner and his big brother called him a name and he took off leaving me with no ride home. His big brother had to give me a ride home and on the way pulled over to the side of the road to have his way with me. He was about 100 lbs bigger than me and yet, men who get a twist of the ole family jewels and a scratch to the eyeball cower like a baby and allow you the chance to escape from the car. On a very cold Christmas night, a good 45 minute drive from home, I needed to beg and plea with a family to allow me the use of their phone to call my dad long distance. This was definitely the end.

Begging and pleaing with my dad for a second chance, which my dad did not know was more like the 10th, he came to the house for an apology. Cried like a baby and told me it would never happen again. I again gave the benefit of the doubt but the feelings were not there. I was 16 and had been sucked into this family of freaks and it started hardening my heart. I became mean and nasty. I said things that I had no right saying. I spent 6 weeks being the meanest and nastiest bitch that ever walked the earth. I had a heart of stone for this boy and nothing was ever going to change that. I was not going to be burned again. Wal-turd had turned me into the Tin Man.

Friday, June 11, 2010

On a trip to my Oz

It is Friday already and it has been a very interesting week. I have been flustered at work and even in my personal life. There are many things that come up during the course of a week that make me think…I should blog about that…or …that would make a good blog. Then as luck would have it something else comes up and my life in abbreviations takes over and the CRS kicks in.

Recently, I received an email from a friend that I had not heard from in a while and it was a forwarded email. I almost deleted it completely and then decided to read it first. It was an email that I have received on many different occasions about friends. Friends come into your life for a season or a reason. Later as the week went on I started thinking a little more about “my” friends.

This might surprise you but I don’t have many IRL GIRL friends. I get along better with men. This is for many different reasons but I started thinking about the “friends” that I have had and what makes a “friend”. Well, as my ADDOS would have it, I went on quite a tangent and realized that by definition my “boy” friends have made me the person that I am today.

Every friend of mine serves a purpose in my life and since I was not much of a dater, I didn’t have a lot of “boy” friends. I really only had 3. I had other guys that I “dated” once or twice but the majority of them either were not worth my mental energy or they ended up being one of my “better” life friends.

A good friend of mine described her past relationships in relation to the Wizard of Oz. She claimed that she had to date her Scarecrow, Tin Man and her Cowardly Lion before she found her Wizard. I think that is the case with me. The only difference is that as I looked at my past and knowing that the Wizard was the one I had at home, I realized that I did not date them but they dated me. I was their Scarecrow, Tin Man and Cowardly Lion before they entered my life and because of them I have become the Wizard I am today.

So let me go a little into my past and tell you about the Scarecrow time in my life.

I will be the first to admit it when I say that when it comes to booksmarts I am a little lacking on that side. I have a tendency to develop a brain cramp when I have to write or talk about anything intelligent. I am a whiz with numbers though. If it were possible to live a life with just algebraic equations, it would be the life for me. Seriously folks, 2 plus 2 will always be 4 no matter which way you look at it. So for me, it was very difficult to “talk” to guys. Bring in my “Brain”.

I could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers
Consultin' with the rain.
And my head I'd be scratchin' while
my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain.

I'd unravel every riddle for any individ'le,
In trouble or in pain.
With the thoughts you'll be thinkin'
you could be another Lincoln
If you only had a brain.

Oh, I could tell you why The ocean's near the shore.
I could think of things I never thunk before.
And then I'd sit, and think some more.
I would not be just a nothin' my head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,
If I only had a brain.

I was in the middle of a relationship with the “TinMan” portion of my life, if you can call it that at the age of 16, when I became very attracted to another “boy”. This boy and I could laugh at things and cry about things. I could sit and discuss my life in so many aspects and never feel like I was not smart. He helped me through some tough mental obstacles and was there to listen when I needed a shoulder to lean on. To this day, when I am talking to this person, I truly feel like he is listening. That is not something you can say about most men but in truth it is that way with him.

When you are 16 and insecure about your self, which I believe most 16 year olds are, it is nice to find the “friend” who helps you realize that no matter how you feel about your intelligence, you are indeed smart and witty and can hold a conversation without stuttering over words. I did not marry this man but did indeed overcome the feeling that I had a head full of stuffing. And to this day, I dance and be merry.

Fast forward to 2010 and I am raising a 16 year old, I am no longer that shy girl afraid of real conversations. I have moved on through my life and have a met a few people who have made me feel stupid. I have worked for others who have made me feel inferior intellectually. I have had “friends” that I have purposely lost because I don’t enjoy that feeling of having the lower hand. I have gained and lost more friends now than I did when I was that age and have learned a lot of life lessons, but for my “friends” out there now that help me with Scarecrow feeling that I have, I very much appreciate all of you.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Raising Awareness Thursday - Type 2 Diabetes

This is really hard for me because I am trying very hard to stay in a smiley face frame of mind. I have been determined since my very weird dream the other night that smiles are the way to go. However due to Lee and her absolutely wonderful link about awareness, I thought (okay really she suggested that I do it after my comment) that I would post about my daddy.

For those of you who are new to the area, or have come over from Lee’s, let me tell you a little bit about my daddy. My dad was the father of 8 children. Raising a family in the 60’s and 70’s was not an easy thing to do, especially if you had a big family the mom was usually the one at home and the dad was the one working hard to put food on the table and make the bills. We lived in Central Massachusetts and my dad worked in Boston. To most that is not really that bad, but because the traffic was always bad, my dad went in early and came home late. He didn’t eat right and eating healthy and on time was sometimes an issue too. My dad became slightly overweight, I say slightly but it was all in his belly. He was active though. My dad was a Master Electrician in Boston but was also a firefighter in our small town and the wiring inspector. Yup, he held three jobs. He didn’t sleep much and grabbed food on the go most of the time. He developed Type 2 Diabetes in his mid 50’s. He was on many medications by the time he was 60 and insulin dependant by the time he was 64. One of the medications my dad was on was Metformin.

This is a very common drug to be on while diabetic. But is also has many horrible side effects.

My dad was on it for many years and the dosages were always increasing. My dad was also on many other drugs and the doctor should have been checking his liver panels on a regular basis, but that is a story for another time.

While on vacation 4 years ago, I noticed my dad getting smaller and smaller in the legs and face and bigger and bigger around the middle. His scale said he was loosing weight but his clothes said otherwise.

My dad was swelling with what they call “cancer fluid”. He came home from vacation with chest pains and ended up in the hospital two days later being diagnosed with Liver Cancer.

Due to the many medications that my dad was on he was dying and dying fast. His liver had what they call NASH.

~ Nonalcoholic steatohepatitis (NASH) is a condition that causes inflammation and accumulation of fat and fibrous tissue in the liver. Although a similar condition can occur in people who abuse alcohol, NASH occurs in those who do drink little to no alcohol. The exact cause of NASH is unknown. However, it is seen more frequently in people with certain medical conditions such as diabetes, obesity, and insulin resistance. Taken from UpToDate, Inc.

Here is the worse part. My dad, as I said, was on Metformin and was sent in for a CAT scan. While on Metformin you are not supposed to have the CAT scan injection because it puts your kidneys into failure. But they gave it to him anyway under the assumption that since he was on chemotherapy he was not taking his daily medication. But nobody had told my mom or my dad not to take his daily medication. And it put him into kidney failure. Since my dad had no liver function once the kidneys failed, he very quickly died. From the diagnosis of liver cancer to death was exactly 5 weeks.

Diabetes KILLS. Please be aware of the signs, go to the doctor and get yourself healthy.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Smiley face...changing times

I had a dream last night and I remember it vividly. The thing is none of it makes any sense.

This dream involved a good friend of mine, who in the dream not rl, lived in an apartment complex with many other families that I knew as well. Her family consisted of a sister (which she does not have) and her big brother. Her big brother and I were having long conversations about life and disappointments and things like that when the clock above the TV started glowing different colors. So we decided to take a shower. Not together but continued talking to each other while the other was showering. I remember distinctly that when it was his turn he took off his clothes. He was wearing 8 pairs of smiley face underpants in all different colors and sizes and left them all on the floor. He dried off with a smiley face towel and then put on a smiley face collared shirt and we went out for a walk while the glowing clock was following us around the house. The clock was bugged. It had a camera in it and taping everything my friend’s house had going on in it. My friend was ripping the cords out of the back of the TV and found cameras in the bathroom, kitchen and bedrooms as well. The smiley face dressed brother and I decided to take a walk instead of dealing with that and came to the common area of the complex where I got shot with a heat seeking arrow. And then I woke up.

There are times in my life that I feel like this dream. Everything around me is happening and yet at the same time I am engrossed in my own little world. The best part about the dream and the goal I have in my life lately is that I will surround myself with only smiley faces. I won’t wear 8 pair of underpants but I think that maybe I will hunt out some PJ pants with the super duper colored smileys.

The thing is that every time I am determined to live only in my bubble I get poked. Sometimes the poke is hard enough to let a little of my air out. Sometimes the poke is so hard that I scream in pain. Thank you all for your support in my bubble. Smiley Faces all around today!

Monday, June 7, 2010

Chicken Scratch

A new week has begun and because of a great weekend with my boys I thought I would try something new. I have seen on other blogs, posts that have random thoughts on different days of the week. Since my life in abbreviations (ADD, OCD, CRS, and so on) has on many occasions made me very confusing to follow, I am calling today my “Chicken Scratch” day.

For those of you that are some what new or for those of you who have forgotten, “I don’t have Attention Deficit, hey did you see that chicken?” is my life’s motto.

Why is it that boys, no matter what age find the need to touch? Not just themselves but their brothers as well? Why is it that I can constantly say “keep your hands to yourself”, and 5 seconds later they forgot I said it?

What attracts turtles? Went to camp of Saturday and right outside the door was the biggest sun turtle ever. This is the second type of turtle right outside my door in one week.

How do you get moth ball smell out of mattresses and if there is a way, how do you get it out fast?

Over the course of the last week I have been driving to work listening to the radio and I have discovered the root of all my problems is that I don’t take enough supplements. They have a supplement to assist in those pesky 20 pounds I can’t loose, a supplement that will stop my hot flashes (if I had them), a supplement that will help me learn how to program my remote (kid you not), and a supplement to make me look 10 years younger. Wow, if I liked to take pills and clean my colon and not sweat and couldn’t learn technology, I would be all set in life. They even claim that they will get rid of your “brain farts” (no lie that is the exact line).

I bent over yesterday and hit my forehead on the pew at church. I have a big round black and blue in the middle of my forehead. I think that I would make a good looking Cyclops if I ever thought I should become one, for what ever reason. (There you go Countess, a Majewski move for you).

#3 went back home on Tuesday of last week after being here for a month. He didn’t find work here and so he went home. No shit people guess what happened when he got home. His girlfriend of 14 years kicked his ass to the curb. SURPRISE! Good for her…oh and btw, while he was gone, his 15 year old got in a fight at school. Practically killed the kid he was in a fight with and was expelled. Yup, less than a week left of school and he got kicked out. She shipped his arse back to his mother. Do you blame her? I don’t. I blame my brother for leaving his kid in Florida. Dipshit!

#3 called #8 and told him he was coming back and #8 said he wasn’t taking him in. #8 will cave, I know he will, he always does, but he laid the ground rules if he was to come home.

#8 is in Illinois this week, giving a deposition against the doctor that misdiagnosed his wife’s cancer. This is got to be so hard for him. 5 years ago this month is when she passed away. My prayers are with him.

Hope your day is going well.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Heck, my neck hurts...why?

OH MY WORD! There are just days in your life where you shake your head in disbelief at what the world has handed you. Today is one of those days.

To fill you in a little bit about yesterday’s goings on…Peanut came home last night around 6 PM. My husband and other two boys went looking all over town for him. He claimed that he was at a baseball game. Baseball is over. Where was he? I don’t know and don’t think that I ever will. On the other hand, when my husband did get a hold of him and started yelling and screaming and threatening to spank his 13 almost 14 year old smart arse, he took off again. Since I tutor in the city on Wednesday nights, my husband waited until he knew I was done and on my way home. I went right to the police department to talk to someone about the situation and what my options were. I found out that a CHINS (child in need of services) contract was not what I wanted. If I were to file one of these in juvenile court, I would be giving up my rights as a parent and allowing them to take him to a juvenile facility if he breaks any part of the contract.

NOPE not for me.

While I was filing the missing persons report, he came home. The officer asked if it was going to be necessary for them to dispatch a cruiser to the house so that my husband did not kill him. I explained that my husband is the biggest talker-no-action-taking parent in the house. I, on the other hand, may have beaten the crapola out of him. Boy, do I miss my dad in situations like that.

Then this morning, he woke up all smiles and hugs, apologies and kisses. Then he promised to be home right after school and literally skipped out the door to school.

I got to work this morning and did my normal check ins that I do every morning and found out that stupid ass #5 bought the effing ho bag that has been dicking him around for the past year an engagement ring. WTF is he thinking. He is not ready for that kind of commitment. He does not even have his head out of his ass long enough to clean up after his cat, and he wants to take on the responsibility of someone who calls herself she-wolf on Facebook. And to top it all off, that is where I found out about the ring. On freaking Facebook. Who in their right minds posts a picture of a jewelry box and quotes, “yup I did it.” And then immediately posts that she said no we are just friends.

Why on earth do men, who don’t know what to do next, think that a diamond ring is the answer?

Seriously? It is now 10 am my time and I have already shaken my head in disbelief on so many levels.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

CHINS? Have you had to deal with one before?

Have you ever had to file a CHINS before? Do you know someone who has? I am in need of a little more support and not sure where to find it. I received Peanut’s progress report a few weeks ago and requested that I be able to see the guidance counselor for a meeting. She called me on the phone instead. Claimed that there really was no need for me to come in. This could all be taken care of over the phone. During our conversation she questioned me. Well I guess the better term would be “interrogated”. After she was convinced that I had done just about all I could do, she thought that maybe threatening Peanut herself with staying back was what needed to be done.

Yup, that worked. She called me back and told me that he just stared at her and shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t care. BECAUSE HE DOESN’T-DIPSHIT! WHAT THE EFF DO YOU THINK THAT I WAS SAYING…THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO.

As usual, Peanut was so loving and hugging over the weekend. He showed the entire family that he was someone to look up to. He helped everyone and took special care of Ryebread. No one believes me when I tell them what I am going through. No one sees that in this child.

Then today, he didn’t come home from school. I am at a loss. I don’t know what to do. I am not rewarding him with a cell phone. I refuse to do it. I am so sick and freaking tired of people telling me to get him a cell phone and then you will know where he is. BULLSHIT! Is it not his responsibility to get on the school bus and the end of the day and come HOME. I have nothing left to take away. He still is not doing what he needs to be doing and yet, does not give a shitzki. I am thinking that a CHINS might be the way to go. But I never had one or know of someone who has. Is this a bad idea or what?

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Boys and their toys

I have so much to post about from this past weekend that I don’t even know where to start. Considering the fact that I forgot to bring my camera to work to down load the pictures I guess I will start in the middle of the weekend.

I am not sure how much I have told you how much I LOVE my baby brother. #8 is the most considerate little brother I have. To be honest…he ranks up as the COOLEST uncle in my boys eyes as well. This weekend he clinched the rank as the COOLEST EVAH!

Sunday was my baby brother’s 32nd birthday and instead of us getting him a present, he got us a present.

While sitting at my in law’s on Sunday afternoon, my cell phone started buzzing that I had a text message. “if I drop something off at camp where can I put it that it wont get stolen?”

So my first reaction would be most people’s reaction…”WTH are you dropping off?”

“a bike”

“bigger or smaller than a 10 speed?”

“smaller but heavier”

“Underneath the porch, on the other side of the camp the door is up, we just pulled the canoes. Heavier?”

“This bike takes gas and the boys will need proper helmets”


“yup, I bought myself a present but have no where to ride it in the city, so your boys will need to take care of it for me while I am not able to”

Surprisingly enough, when I told my boys of this back and forth with Uncle 8, they knew exactly what they needed. Even more surprising, my FIL had two helmets and face masks in his basement for the boys to have. Jelly knew that Dad’s boots were at the house and knew exactly where they were. Jelly can’t find his iPod most days if it were flashing sparkly gems in his face, but knew where the boots were.

We arrived at camp a few hours later; the boys could not wait to check out the new toy. The neighbors were not too happy about the new toy…but I could give a shit on that one. That is a story for another time.

Peanut waiting his turn.
Jelly on the bike and Butter on his.

Peanut needed some lessons first.  Dad would not allow CRASH to get on until he knew what he was doing.  Peanut has a tendency to end up in an emergency room before anyone else, so lessons are key.

Hope you all had a great weekend.