What type of Fae are you?
Okay, that is rather scary. I would say I rather resemble that description a little more than I'd like. I've often felt like a changling to be honest.
Today has been a mostly good day, or at least it was until I got the mail.
Work was slow and boring. Though I did have one "lovely" {in quotes because I"m being sarcastic and you can't hear my typing}, lady who wanted to be taken off our mailing list {something we often do, no big deal}, because in her words "it was a violation of her personal space". She even taped the conversation. Good grief lady.. I"d be happy to take you off the list, but don't act as though I walked into your house and sat at the table during breakfast to try and push q-gel on you over your morning coffee. And don't get your attitude in my face, about how You don't wanto be referred adn we will do this that and the the other. I know where you live. I am a devious and mean person. Piss me off and you will lead a "very intersting life". Okay, I'd never actually do anything {not illegal anyway}, but sheesh. Toss it away and get on with your freaking life, assuming anybody with ass cheeks that tight actually has one.
Since it was so dead, I got to leave early. I didn't want to go home, and I was still a bit hungry so I wander Hornbacher's Express for 30 minutes to find something to eat, that wasn't completely crap and had something resembling a vitamin in it.
I ended up stalling for time outside the juvy center anyway, just reading and listening to the radio. Than I spent an hour or so with Warren.
I also had a lovely converstation with another lady whose daughter was also in. Very intersting. It seems we have a lot in common, scary. She is also the third person to confirm certain rumors I didn't believe when my son told them to me. But which has since been confirmed by other parties who would have no reason to lie to me. I guess I should believe him sometimes. Seems I really am living in Peyton Place. I can't disclose the rumors, but it is definately an "Area 51" situation. A big secret that everybody knows about, but acts like they don't, unless they need to. I'm begging to wonder what else I should believe that I thought was a lie. Man I really did grow up way too naive.
But anyways.
After I visted Warren, I treated myself to some time out. I went to see Shrek the Third. I even splurged on a junior popcorn {hold the saltified butter flavored oil product}, and a bottled water {I'm such a wild child I know}. The movie was great. Not nearly as funny as the first two, but it definately had some great laughs. If you get a chance, do go see it.
Than I came home and made the mistake of checking my mail. I got copies of paperwork from DJS, just stupid release forms, which they sent me double copies of. A reminder of things I am still comming to terms with. And a nasty letter from my bank in regaards to my lack of wealth. I have money, just not nearly enough.
Yesterday I found a great like new blender at a local thrift store. So now I'm getting smoothie happy. I made a great one for breakfast, with enough left over that I had a small one when I got home. I call it mango berry. IT s just soy yougurt, mango, strawberries, some frozen black and blue berries and a bit of almond milk with a small bit of wheat germ oil. {yes I am becomming one of those annoying almost non dairy people}.
I had a Okara {soy product} Chikin {no birds died to make it} patty on Dakota bread {Great Harvest has the worlds second greatest bread. Fresh ground flour, and this kind has pumpkin seeds adn flax and nuts and millet.. good stuff}, with spinach salad.
I actually did and entire vegetarian day. I"m so proud of myself. I'm not a full vegetarian yet, unless fish and eggs get reclassified as plants, but I am this close. I'm just not ready to give up teh fish, and I have yet to find anything that comes close to a substitute for eggs. But lets hear it for over a year with no pig, three months with no cow or buffalo, and about 2 months with no chicken.
I never planned to give up the moo juice, it just sort of happened. I've gone over to the dark side.
Or I could be an ICthy-Ovo veg {with ocassional lacto for a cheese treat. Veggie cheese, at least the ones I've tried are just gross}. Tofurky is passible, the Phony-bolonga tastes like bologna which isn't all that good of a thing, and the tofu pepperoni is just gross. But the soy sausage and the Okara chicken are pretty decent. They never fool anyone into thinking they are real meat, but they taste decent on thier own.
I think its time for bed. Even I can't follow my train of thought anymore
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
almost over and done
edited : Slight Retraction: Ignore what I said about Jerry Lee, I had Jerry Falwell confused with Jimmy Swaggert. it still makes for a very intersting family dynamic though. Clearly the showman gene runs in the family And Jerry Falwell, was still a blowhard full of hot air.
I haven't updated for awhile, because of a number of reasons. Partially because of being busy, and partially because I"m still having a hard time comming to grips with certain things.
Its all over with Warren, except the official paperwork and final placement. He plead out to 5 of the charges that were against him and the state dropped the other two {the two biggies}. He is now a ward of the juvenille system for one year. They are hoping to get him intto a place close to here, if possible, but they are all full right now. And in order to get on the list I first need to fill out 500 or so forms and find copies of his birth certificate, social security card, stundent id, my custody decree, the restraining order against the idiot, and proof of child support owed. Oh and I could have been on a waiting list earlier but I hadn't filled out a form, I didnt' know I was supposed to ask for, because the guy who could have given it to me {Brad the PO}, never told me about it. Don't you just love red tape.
On the bright side this means I am done with court for now, and while Warren was a little upset at first, his attourney did a fairly good job of spelling out the cold hard facts of what he was up against, and he was quick to accept the reality of the situation, and that I did what I thought was best. One of the hardest parts of motherhood isn't protecting your kids from the scary monsters of the world, the hot stoves and the speeding cars, it is when you find yourself having to protect your child from himself. {and having his so called "friends" carve the word bitch in your front door to thank you for your efforts. And before you ask, yes I did file a police report}.
The idiot of course also had his lawyer present who just got the case a day or so ago, so wasn't up to speed. He was still trying to get the wife of his friends brother to help act as caretakeer while I was at work. I barely know here, and school will be out in a week or so. IT was so not an option. Warren wanted it to be, but accepted that it wasn't going to happen. He doesn't like it, but I think reality has finally sunk in. I hope.
I'm still not really ready to talk about everything that is going thru my head. I know I"ve did the best I could with what I had, and I love my son more than anything. But I can't help feeling like I failed somewhere. My son saw what drinking did to his father. He knew exactly how I felt, we had talked about drugs and alcohol many many times, and yet he chose to drink anyway. He chose to steal and hang out with the kids who had bad reputations, getting himself one in the process. I know I shouldn't blame myself but I do. I feel like somewhere I did or didn't do something I should have. I find myself replaying his entire childhood event by event.
I'm working on coming to terms with my own emotions but it isn't an easy process.
Strange now that I have a car, one would think I would have more time to fit more things in, but I seem to have even less.
My company is a corporate partner with the local Y, and they now have a program where they will pay 20 dollars per month towards a membership in any gym for any employee. I could have a gym membership for practically nothing, and yet instead of racing down to take advantage, I can't even seem to find the time to get there, and I keep finding excuses as to why I won't have time to work out, blah blah.. I don't get it. I used to be out of the house at 6:45, now I can barely roll out of bed before 7am. I"m getting so lazy.
I may just have to force myself to sign up and get my but out of bed early again, so I can work out in the am's. Maybe then I won't be so exhausted by 3pm.
Jerry Falwell passed away, yet his least favorite cousin, Jerry Lee "the killer" Lewis is still going strong , or at least still going.. I guess being self righteious, and judgemental doesn't buy you everything. I find it hard enough to believe they come from the same family tree, but finding out they grew up next to each other and played together as kids??, Man that must have been one intersting family. {thier mothers were sisters, I beileve}. I bet holidays in that family were a hoot.
The wind has died down finally, so instead of sitting here watchign my ass get wider, I think I'm going to go for a walk and see if I can break in my new shoes. {Is there a woman out there, who can restist those two famous words "shoe sale", especially when she really really needs to say good bye to some worn out favorites, and replace them}.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mom
Film :: Movie
Dragon :: Tales
Hunger :: strike
Plucked :: chicken
Dissolving :: water
Executive :: overpaid
Ridiculous:: preposteroius
Mist :: Avalon
Minority :: Report
Map :: read
What can I say. Even I don't understand how my mind works sometimes.
Like many who grew up in small community, I only had one mother, but I was mothered by many. From teachers who had known my parents for decades, to neighbors who looked out for every kid in the nieghborhood, even though there was at least a mile or more between neighbors, to almost any mom or non mother woman in town. I knew if I screwed up or did something it wasn't a matter of if my parents found out, it was a matter of when. Usually before I ever got home.
To this day I am convinced the internet has nothing on the small town grapevine when it comes to speed of spreading information. Of course this also includes the fact that in a town of 1500 there is no such thing as no one's business. Sure people would sometimes look the other way and pretend they didn't know what they did, but everyone knew, we just kept our mouths shut.
My mother wasn't perfect, she didn't have a job outside of her family. She did work in town for a while but that didn't last long, and could make for a whole nother entry on small town politics.
But my mom was the best mother she knew how to be. She loved both her kids and always made sure they were cared for, and knew they were loved. And while yes I do still have feelings regaarding my mom and my brother, I have come to terms with them from an adult point of view, able to understand things differently as a mom myself.
My mom didn't have an easy life. She has 9 older siblings and two younger sisters. She had to leave school in the 8th grade and has been supporting her self since she was about 16. None of my mom's siblings, save maybe a few of the oldest ever went to high school. It was too far away and would have been too expensive.
With 13 kids to care for,during the depression, my grand parents had to watch every penny, and try to squeeze a nickel out of it. From the time she was old enough to walk, work was part of her life.
There was no staying home with the kids. The older kids were responsible for the younger ones. I think my aunt Maggie may have spent as much time raising my mom as my grandmother, and she's only about 5 or so years older.
My mom supported her self as a nurse's aid, what is now most often referred to as a CNA. She worked for many years in hospitals in Rugby and eventually moved to Williston, where My Aunt Hedy and a friend were living. It was here where she met my dad.
It wasn't easy for my mom. She was already in her mid 30's when she and my dad married. My mom was 36 when she had me and 39 (almost 40) when she had my brother. She was living in her in-laws house, my dad was working long crazy hours trying to run the farm. My grandfather died when I was 3. My grandmother was no longer able to care for herself, and my brother was born early with many problems, some of which didn't become apparent until later.
My grandmother lived with us for a while, as I've mentioned before but it soon became obvious she needed more than we could provide. IT wasn't fair to my mom to try and help run the farm while caring for a newborn with multiple issues, a very precocious and hyper active preschooler (yours truly) and a mother in law in the middle stages of dementia, not to mention blindness (glaucoma).
My mom was never what one would call demonstrative. My parents would tuck us in, read to us, spend time with us, carry us on thier shoulders until we got to big, but they were never huggers, never one to say "I love you". Mom was one to show it, in making sure I always had a nice clean outfit to wear to school. In makin sure I never had somebody else's handmedowns as she always had to wear, in always getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure we had a hot homemade breakfast when other kids would have cold cereal or a pop tart on the way out the door.
While other kids had bland bread from the grocery store, I had fresh homemade bread baked with love that tasted better than anything one could find in the best bakeries. I had a spotless house that always smelled of pine sol, and dinners that were always cooked from scratch. I had fresh vegetables that were grown organically before anyone knew what organic gardening was. I had jars of homemade jellies, pickles and other preserves. Unlike the town kids, I was usually personally aquanted with my chicken dinner and knew which farm my steak came from .
My parents were always home when I went to bed and my mom always had time to read me a story before I got old enough to do it for myself.
While I get many things from my dad, my love of other people's junk, my need to always learn more, my short stubby legs and my work ethic. I also got some of my most important qualities from my mom. Not just my lovely wavy hair but my desire to always put my children (child) first, my instinct to go to my child when he needs me, my ability to throw together a good meal from almost anything (except bread. I will never be able to make a loaf or a bun anywhere close to my mom's. I've given up trying). From my mom I learned the value of a hard days work, the importance of an education, but that school isn't the only place to get it. That one should accept the family they have and give up wishing for the family they would have liked to have. To be proud of who you are and where you come from. I also learned how to make a mean cookie, to always be willing to try a new recipe and hey if it doesn't work, well know you know not to try that combination again.
My mom wasn't perfect. She had a temper, much like her daugher and like her daughter she sometimes doesn't know enough to let go of a grudge, but she does and moves on. sometimes she lost her temper with us, especially me. Often she would revert to what she knew or just couldn't deal with me, but she would get over it. I didn't understand her as a child, but as an adult I can relate all to well to what she did and why she did much of what she did. My mom like most mothers was a human being, one who had a life before me and one who had issues of her own to deal with.
My mom has lost everything she owned in a fire, not once but twice and yet she didn't quit, didn't stop, but kept on going.
She married and started a family at an age when many of her friends were raising teenagers, or becomming grandparents. And she did it with out whining or complaining, at least not where my brother or I could hear her.
Despite losing my father much to early, she managed to continue on, to make a life and live. She took over everything my dad left behind and took over all the bookkeeping of my dad's various investments, and sale of the farm and the rent of the land.
For the daugher of immigrants who only had an 8th grade education, she did better than many with ph.ds.
She has been there many times, when no one else was. She loves me even though I think half the time she doesn't have a clue where I came from. We don't see eye to eye on many things, and in some ways I think I am still rebeling, but in other ways, I am glad when somebody says I am like my mom.
I could do a lot lot worse.
I was not an easy kid to raise, and my mom put up with a lot. She doesn't understand me but she loves me anyway, accepts me and my brother for who we are, and doesn't try to force us to be the children she would have liked to have. It took her awhile to come to terms that she would never have the perfect children every mother dreams of, but she didn't let that stop her from being a mom.
That is a true mother in every sense of the word.
I don't say it enough, but despite everything. I love you mom!!
Dragon :: Tales
Hunger :: strike
Plucked :: chicken
Dissolving :: water
Executive :: overpaid
Ridiculous:: preposteroius
Mist :: Avalon
Minority :: Report
Map :: read
What can I say. Even I don't understand how my mind works sometimes.
Like many who grew up in small community, I only had one mother, but I was mothered by many. From teachers who had known my parents for decades, to neighbors who looked out for every kid in the nieghborhood, even though there was at least a mile or more between neighbors, to almost any mom or non mother woman in town. I knew if I screwed up or did something it wasn't a matter of if my parents found out, it was a matter of when. Usually before I ever got home.
To this day I am convinced the internet has nothing on the small town grapevine when it comes to speed of spreading information. Of course this also includes the fact that in a town of 1500 there is no such thing as no one's business. Sure people would sometimes look the other way and pretend they didn't know what they did, but everyone knew, we just kept our mouths shut.
My mother wasn't perfect, she didn't have a job outside of her family. She did work in town for a while but that didn't last long, and could make for a whole nother entry on small town politics.
But my mom was the best mother she knew how to be. She loved both her kids and always made sure they were cared for, and knew they were loved. And while yes I do still have feelings regaarding my mom and my brother, I have come to terms with them from an adult point of view, able to understand things differently as a mom myself.
My mom didn't have an easy life. She has 9 older siblings and two younger sisters. She had to leave school in the 8th grade and has been supporting her self since she was about 16. None of my mom's siblings, save maybe a few of the oldest ever went to high school. It was too far away and would have been too expensive.
With 13 kids to care for,during the depression, my grand parents had to watch every penny, and try to squeeze a nickel out of it. From the time she was old enough to walk, work was part of her life.
There was no staying home with the kids. The older kids were responsible for the younger ones. I think my aunt Maggie may have spent as much time raising my mom as my grandmother, and she's only about 5 or so years older.
My mom supported her self as a nurse's aid, what is now most often referred to as a CNA. She worked for many years in hospitals in Rugby and eventually moved to Williston, where My Aunt Hedy and a friend were living. It was here where she met my dad.
It wasn't easy for my mom. She was already in her mid 30's when she and my dad married. My mom was 36 when she had me and 39 (almost 40) when she had my brother. She was living in her in-laws house, my dad was working long crazy hours trying to run the farm. My grandfather died when I was 3. My grandmother was no longer able to care for herself, and my brother was born early with many problems, some of which didn't become apparent until later.
My grandmother lived with us for a while, as I've mentioned before but it soon became obvious she needed more than we could provide. IT wasn't fair to my mom to try and help run the farm while caring for a newborn with multiple issues, a very precocious and hyper active preschooler (yours truly) and a mother in law in the middle stages of dementia, not to mention blindness (glaucoma).
My mom was never what one would call demonstrative. My parents would tuck us in, read to us, spend time with us, carry us on thier shoulders until we got to big, but they were never huggers, never one to say "I love you". Mom was one to show it, in making sure I always had a nice clean outfit to wear to school. In makin sure I never had somebody else's handmedowns as she always had to wear, in always getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure we had a hot homemade breakfast when other kids would have cold cereal or a pop tart on the way out the door.
While other kids had bland bread from the grocery store, I had fresh homemade bread baked with love that tasted better than anything one could find in the best bakeries. I had a spotless house that always smelled of pine sol, and dinners that were always cooked from scratch. I had fresh vegetables that were grown organically before anyone knew what organic gardening was. I had jars of homemade jellies, pickles and other preserves. Unlike the town kids, I was usually personally aquanted with my chicken dinner and knew which farm my steak came from .
My parents were always home when I went to bed and my mom always had time to read me a story before I got old enough to do it for myself.
While I get many things from my dad, my love of other people's junk, my need to always learn more, my short stubby legs and my work ethic. I also got some of my most important qualities from my mom. Not just my lovely wavy hair but my desire to always put my children (child) first, my instinct to go to my child when he needs me, my ability to throw together a good meal from almost anything (except bread. I will never be able to make a loaf or a bun anywhere close to my mom's. I've given up trying). From my mom I learned the value of a hard days work, the importance of an education, but that school isn't the only place to get it. That one should accept the family they have and give up wishing for the family they would have liked to have. To be proud of who you are and where you come from. I also learned how to make a mean cookie, to always be willing to try a new recipe and hey if it doesn't work, well know you know not to try that combination again.
My mom wasn't perfect. She had a temper, much like her daugher and like her daughter she sometimes doesn't know enough to let go of a grudge, but she does and moves on. sometimes she lost her temper with us, especially me. Often she would revert to what she knew or just couldn't deal with me, but she would get over it. I didn't understand her as a child, but as an adult I can relate all to well to what she did and why she did much of what she did. My mom like most mothers was a human being, one who had a life before me and one who had issues of her own to deal with.
My mom has lost everything she owned in a fire, not once but twice and yet she didn't quit, didn't stop, but kept on going.
She married and started a family at an age when many of her friends were raising teenagers, or becomming grandparents. And she did it with out whining or complaining, at least not where my brother or I could hear her.
Despite losing my father much to early, she managed to continue on, to make a life and live. She took over everything my dad left behind and took over all the bookkeeping of my dad's various investments, and sale of the farm and the rent of the land.
For the daugher of immigrants who only had an 8th grade education, she did better than many with ph.ds.
She has been there many times, when no one else was. She loves me even though I think half the time she doesn't have a clue where I came from. We don't see eye to eye on many things, and in some ways I think I am still rebeling, but in other ways, I am glad when somebody says I am like my mom.
I could do a lot lot worse.
I was not an easy kid to raise, and my mom put up with a lot. She doesn't understand me but she loves me anyway, accepts me and my brother for who we are, and doesn't try to force us to be the children she would have liked to have. It took her awhile to come to terms that she would never have the perfect children every mother dreams of, but she didn't let that stop her from being a mom.
That is a true mother in every sense of the word.
I don't say it enough, but despite everything. I love you mom!!
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