The Secret to my Happy Life.. must read

We have always had a hard time monetarily.  After I got sick, it got a lot worse.  My poor husband has had to pick up the slack.  Working overtime...  whatever he could do to make a little more money for us.  We don't vacation, we have bad teeth, our cars were made in the 80's and the 90's and we are happy.  See, we figured out a long time ago that money does not buy happiness.  Actually, that may be a lie, I wouldn't know..  I have never had any fucking money.

This is our car...

That being said, I don't want money.  I hate it.  I like having the things I need.  I like my kids having the things that they need, and luckily when they were younger we managed most times, holidays and birthdays, to get them what they want.  I have been to the food closet to feed us.  Teenagers eat a lot.  I was not ashamed, we needed help desperately.  

Instead of applying for disability I am attending college online.  I am double major in psych and sociology.  I have brought my children up..  not to think that the almighty dollar is the king, but to realize that money is not happiness and we are a happy family.  One of them, especially since I got sick, is actually a little pissed off that I got sick.  He wasn't able to do all the things he wanted as a younger teen because I was sick and we had no money.  He is still a little angry with me, that I fucked up his childhood.  I think he will make a lot of money because he was so frustrated that there never seemed to be enough for the family.

Don't get me wrong, none of us liked living on Ramen and peanut butter and jelly..  When my kids would get angry or frustrated I would ask them to think about their friends, the kids in their class, my own relatives...  I asked them to think about all the people that have more money than we do.  Then I would ask them if they seem as happy as we are.  Do they have parents that love each other and love them unconditionally?  The answer surprised my children.  As I watched the truth dawn on them..  so we needed to have this talk a few times...  but as I watch the truth dawn on their faces I am not so sad that they grew up in the financial state that they did.

As I said, I think they will both want to make a lot of money, because they like having it.  I think they both know how to fuck that all up..  That being knocking a girl up, or going to jail.  You do one of those things and you are done.  Or, you are going to have to fight over crumbs, like we have for the past 18 years.  Yes, I have been married for almost 20 years.  

We moved 22 times since we have been together..  Hubby served in the Army.  Even after Army though, we have found it impossible to settle down.  Now one kid is a senior next year and the other one is right behind him and will be a junior in high school.  We have now said, just let us stay in this house until the kids graduate.  We have no clue what is next but it has been years since I thought that finding "that house" and settling down in it for the rest of my life was the end all be all.  I find I wouldn't mind settling somewhere, but I don't have to either.

It's supposed to be the great American Dream right?  The house, the car, a pool, a boat...  that is NOT my American Dream.  I think it works for some people, it does not work for me and my husband.

I am in school for this.  I know the numbers.  Statistically, my children are supposed to be little fuckers that are failing at school and life and falling into a pit of despair because they can never be "not poor".  We took those statistics and fucked them right in the face.  One kid is such a genius with machines and wood and tools that he is going to be fine.  Something always needs fixed.  My other kid, is literally a genius.  PSAT scores have him in the top 96% of the country.  The COUNTRY.  Like the whole thing.  He is a Sophmore this year and his stack of letters from colleges is about a foot high.

What I am trying to say here is that, you don't have to be a statistic.  Yeah, it's fucking hard when someone can't work.  Yeah, it fucking sucks when they turn off your power because you didn't pay.  It fucking sucks when you don't have the money or the time to get your car inspected.  It fucking sucks. 

My response?  Light a candle, get a fucking camp stove and some butane and do what you can.  Once we moved back to PA when the kids were younger I would send them to stay with my mom while our power was out..  that way they didn't suffer that.

Concerning work?  Well I have a nervous condition.  I think my work is writing because it is the way that I can best communicate.  It is very difficult for me to get the words to my mouth.  Typing helps tremendously, but I still forget and have to delete half a sentence, because I forgot what I was saying.  Point is..  money will come or it won't but I am pursuing my passion and helping people.

Take your life back.  It isn't about the shit you have or think you need.  Spend the day with your fucking kids.  Put down your fucking screens and pay attention to your child.  It isn't that hard.  I even encourage you to smoke a little cheeba on the low, then hang with your kids, it fucking awesome and fun.  People will look at those words with distaste like that is bad.  Well, it certainly beats most home dynamics happening right now.  

No, you don't smoke yourself stupid.  Couple a puffs and hanging with little kids is great.  It actually puts you on a level with them.  They are more comfortable.  They don't know why.  Sometimes it just suits everyone.  It beats being addicted to whatever pills you are on..  or breaking open that bottle of wine.  I know you do it.  I know the numbers remember?

This is a long post, but it is how I feel.  It is why I am sick, poor, shitty teeth, tiny house that we rent..  and I am happy.  Our huge yard helps a lot.  I go to the porch out back and I am in the woods.  It is lovely.

No more excuses..  No more, but I just need to have that..  no more.  That is the key to being happy.  It's really simple.  Way easier than math.  Just love and live and let live and turn off the news, find the information yourself..  Turn off your cable, watch shows on Netflix..  Life is easier when you don't have the bought and paid for media telling you about daily disasters.  By no means am I suggesting you check out..  just get the information yourself. 

This is What I Posted on Facebook, About "The Work Incident"

Bitches and Bad Parents: This is to you. If one of you sees someone WORKING at a fucking JOB you DO NOT under ANY circumstances point out to your young child "see, honey, you don't want to work like him you have to go to college" if you are SO bad at parenting that you need to use human examples as to why your fuck face of a kid should attend college, do it. Send those little fuckers to college, and watch them fail.

The same fucking people... stop fucking talking out of both sides of your face. You don't want to pay any taxes... then you get to go on vacation and make my son (junior in high school BTW) feel like a jerk because you are using him as an example to your kid.. doing your job for you?

None of these people support welfare, or the people that need it.. NO, no help for the poor. They have to send their children to work for the summer to pay for the shit that they want... No welfare AND you get to make my son feel like an ass hole because he works where you vacation. From the bottom of my heart... if you have EVER pointed at someone WORKING and used them as a "warning, don't end up there" to your fucking shitty kid delete me. I don't want to know you

Bitch said WHAT?

Pretty flower?  Why yes, yes it is.  I posted this because I am really pissed and flowers calm me down.

As much as I talk about the pitfalls of being a mom, as hard a job as being a mom is; it is NOT harder than when they are older and out in the world and I have no rights to them anymore.

My oldest is at work today..  working hard to pay for his car and stuff that he wants.  (insurance).  That being said he is a Junior in high school.  He works at a "campground".  Click the link to see why it is quotation marks.  Camping for the well-to-do.  Whatever, he gets to be outside all day and loves his job.  Which is awesome.  Teenagers should have jobs they love, then they won't be a burnt out mess that hates everything by the time they are 18.

My son has been working since he has been allowed to by state law.  This bitch pointed out my son to her child today and said, "look, there is the reason you need to go to college".  My son, did the right fucking thing and informed her that he is a junior in high school.

I want to go there.  I am feeling very violent against this woman.  I have to listen to my kid on this one..  have to.  Cannot go kick that bitches ass, or neck..  

It is interesting when we start to learn things from our kids.  It is more than interesting when they start being autonomous, outside the house..  Even more interesting when they did a thing that I never could.

Well done Shelby, polite and no one got kicked in the face.  OOPS, see..  you can use me as an example of that..  not my fucking kid, not today, or tomorrow, or ever.  I will come after you with everything I got and I am fucked up forever so I am the last bitch you wanna fuck with..  see?  Not me.  I am not violent.  except when it comes to my kids.  Learn from them.  Because, dammit, we can't be there to stick up for them forever,

Loving Yourself Every Day

I have fallen into being one of THOSE people.  You know..  the ones that are absolutely certain that everything is going to hell.  The ones who talk about the "good old days"..  that's all bullshit.  Pick nearly any time in history and it sucked pretty bad for some group of people, somewhere.

 

There is no such thing as an ideal society, ideal humanity, Utopia in general.  Everyone reaches and reaches for what they think they need.  

 

Whether you are a person that lives in my are and you need a nice truck and wear "normal" clothes, and be comfortable with ugly hate words.  I am most of those things, cannot fight the nasty words.  That is how those particular people feel, nothing I can do..  Let them have their hate words.  It is hurting no one.  It's only fucking words.

 

The Utopian dream is bullshit, in a sense of Eve in the Garden of Eden shit.  You create your own Utopia and you protect it at all costs.  Make yourself comfortable in your home.  Make yourself go outside also..  blow some bubbles..  Ultimately it doesn't matter what you drive, where you live, or what you wear when you accept and love yourself unconditionally it leads to a sense of strength that is incomparable.  

 

Baby steps..  I am still working on some stuff.  For example, taking a shower..  it makes me so sleepy sometimes I put it off..  I am also working on the volume of my voice.  I am working on living with this pain as a part of my life.

 

Strength for my children.  Strength to give them my undivided attention, because I have been super selfish when I initially started getting symptoms.  I missed a lot of shit, just was only thinking of myself.  It was a vital stage in my recovery, but I lost a lot of closeness with my boys.  I should have concentrated more on how it must feel for them.  Remember that.  

 

Boys don't know how to say it so sometimes the words come out as mean and nasty and awful..  but they are boys and that is their way of saying that they worry.  Instead of taking the bait..  ask what is really going on. 

 

 

Life Hacks and Some Other Random Shit That POPS out

This is a picture of bubbles.  I made a discovery today and I want to share it.  Fibro patients, as well as others have a hard time with their bodies.  Namely, they don't fucking work anymore.  If that was all..  except it isn't..  like so many other maladies (all of which this blog is intended for BTW) it has you feeling pretty miserable a lot of the time.

 

For example, when I was letting fibro win I was in bed all day, wishing for my heart to stop beating.  Now I fucking blow bubbles.  I did not go from one of those straight to the other.  Baby steps.  I am still taking them.  Welcome to my ride.

 

Going outside is vital for feeling human.  Without doubt this is true.  What is also true for me, and maybe you, is that I have to have something to do with my hands, or I am back in the house, or I take my phone outside with me.  I hate to say it, this destroys the point.  You are not relaxing in nature if you have your damn phone......  Crazy?  Maybe..  

 

Except I found something that helps on so many levels.  Bubbles.  Go get some bubbles, with the big wand.  You can even sit.  Wave your arm around and make bubbles.  Concentrate on making as many as you can.  Watch them float through the air, look at how beautiful they are.  Totally something to do with your hands, as well as BUBBLES..  

 

 

Another life hack for you is this one:  When you finally get out of bed in the morning..  I know how long that can take.  When you do, have a plan in place.  Get dressed.  Put on clothes for the day before you leave your room.  I understand all too well the desire to stay in your PJ's all day.

 

By no means am I telling you that you have to do your face or even fucking match..  just don't wear the same thing that you wore for sleeping.  It does wonders in the whole "this day shall be a good one" parade of days that we experience because we are chronically at home.

 

Like I said, welcome to my journey.  I am totally honest, I couldn't lie if I wanted.  I have to go to a court hearing soon and I am already working on my quiet face.  I think I might actually wear a scarf and tie it over my mouth.  No, then I look like a wild west bank robber....

 

 

Yes...  Yes I do have this tattooed on my body..  Judge away.

 

The most important thing I can leave you with is this.  Every day, no matter how small..  work on yourself.  Work on living again.  If you are interested in a laugh you can always check out my new facebook group

Sex and Fibromyalgia... How I See Things... You Can Have Both

I just had a wonderful time with my husband.  I will allow you to read into that what you will.  That being said, fibro changes everything, including how we behave in the bedroom.  I have a couple of hacks, a couple of illegal ideas, and an overall information for those of us who have this condition, and still want to live,  Sex with our partner is a really important part of your life that you should pay close attention to.  This is not by any means just for those of us with Fibro.  I am talking to all those that have injured themselves, MS, I don't have all night to make the list.  Maybe my ideas freak you out.  Maybe they help.. Whatever, read it just for fun then, because it is about sex after all.

Now, we have to communicate with our partners correctly about how we are feeling, and we have to consider what they are going through.  You may be the fucked up one, but your partner suddenly has a fucked up partner, they are in hell with you; never forget that.

Communicate with your partner that when you are in pain all the time, it makes sex one of the last things on our minds.  However, I can say that I have never regretted the nights that I have had with my husband.  We have learned that a good time now and then is better than forcing it and hurting me.  

Now for the advice.  I advise you, if you are over 18 and experiencing pain, check out cannabis and see how much that can help.  Now the super crazy part.   Another friend tried mushrooms, she has fibro too.  She said that they helped for 24 hours, she felt better.  After hearing this news

Click here to see the study 

I checked the studies above and it seems to me that fibro can be a lot like PTSD.  The nerve part any way.  I am all about trying whatever it takes, within limits that are safe.  I don't reccomend any of the above things, I am simply telling my story and the story of my friends. 

Reader, if you are shocked by the "drug talk" think about all the things you take, even from over the counter?  All drugs are dangerous, but some allow us a richer, happier, life and they should be explored so that we can have some painless sex with our partners for once.

Now, forgoing all the above information, I will also be honest about how I like it when I am hurting.  You can make it fun.  Hubby knows that when I am in pain I need him to be aggressive.  The point of sharing all this is because you should explore new ways to make yourself and your partner sexual.  We have this shit forever, we better figure out a new way to deal with this new life, instead of trying to fight the pain.  Hug it..  bring it with you.  Know it..  make it a part of you.  Then you are a person again.  Ask for what you want.  Know that every single fucking thing is going to change, especially your sex life.  

Your only job is to live with it, get on with what you are capable of.  Push your limits.  If you have Fibro always remember that the pain is not an injury.  It is only pain.  Love it, live it....  sit the fuck down wherever you need to..  

I am getting a medical bracelet.  I recommend any of you that have the shaking part like I have..  it sucks I know..  however it is worse when we are stressed out, we know that.  That having been said, I never want treated like a drug addict again.  I never want anyone EVER again to tell me to "calm down" because they have no fucking idea how hard you are working just to be as calm as you already are.  I get it.  Fuck that shit.  Get a bracelet.  Protect yourself from the police thinking you are a nutcase just because you are nervous and upset.   

Thinking, Why My Own Brain is my Worst Enemy.... Fibromyalgia Sucks Ass... So Does Thinking..

Noam Chomsky

Click on that link up there is you want to read some really great stuff,written by one of the days greatest thinkers.  They aren't all dead.  I study many of his theories in my sociology classes.

Since Mr. Emerson has put it so wisely, inform yourselves.  If it is information that you have, share it.  It is your obligation to do so.  We live in a society where parents tell their children not to tattle, then they grow up and it takes an Army to convince any human they did the right thing.  Even when they did.  Especially when they did.  

You always hear, doing the right thing is right, even when it is hard.  You don't really think about what that means.  Not until you have to pass a woman at a school function that has called your child a spiky haired douche bag...  and you can't say or do a thing.  It fucking sucks..  But it is the right thing to do.. What are your other options?  Smack the bitch?  Yes I wanted to for a long time, every time I saw her.  Then I realized that mad is the most wasted emotion a human can have.  It can be good when needed, other than that it simply makes us do stupid things.

Think before making decisions, or doing anything, while you are angry.  I have stopped conversations with strangers so I could walk away and count to ten and breath.  Another thing I have learned from one of the best ladies ever, breath...  keep breathing.  Thank you Susan..  Ellen My digital besties and I love them as much as I would if they were my neighbors, which would be fucking awesome.  THAT would keep me here.

You know that when you get pissed you get out of breath.  Ask for a moment.  No one has ever called me on it.  I have a nervous condition I need to count to ten.  The cop wouldn't listen.  I think since this doesn't exist I am going to start a thing. Yes, absolutely someone like me needs proof that I am indeed ill, because it looks a whole lot like I am on drugs.  I get that.  I joked about needing a sign, but what about a medical bracelet? 

I added the photo because I think it is pretty neat and it reminds me of Terry Pratchett whom is an amazing author and is quirky, silly, and a general fun read.  I guess now I give out book advice.  Read him, often.

I called this typing out loud because of my condition I cannot have a conversation with you, that will sound a thing like what I write.  My condition prevents me from getting the words out of my mouth in the right order.  I yell evil things sometimes that I didn't even think..  other times I can't remember what I was saying in the middle of a damn sentence.  When I type, as all over the place as I might be, it is a literal walk through my brain because thank the Goddess that my fingers still work quickly enough for me to get the words down somewhere.

I don't know why it took me this long to realize it is a genius way to communicate with my husband.  As much as he is amazing concerning my disease, he simply cannot understand that what is going on in my brain rarely ends up in the place it was supposed to go.  It makes life with me very interesting.

I hate it that my children are afraid to go places with me, lest I embarrass them.  I have always been outspoken, well..  not really compared to how I am now I used to be reserved.  I just say it now.  No filter.  It does nothing but get me in trouble.   I try to laugh about it but really I hate it.  I like that I am braver, but that has come from working through the other shitty things about this condition.  I didn't need to be any braver with people.  Shit.. 

So..  all the trouble I have caused, all the things I said that I shouldn't have?  Do I regret this thing?  Not for a second.  I ask for an adult when I feel incapable of making an important decision..  Jason, my love, my husband, is my sanity guide.  I often ask him "should I....?  can I...? Is it totally nuts if I....?  You get the idea.

Life is an interesting swinging around, never quite knowing what is around the next corner thrill ride.  Become friends with your self.  Become close with your brain and your thoughts, get them out when they need to be and fuck the rest.  You Do You.

I am NOT a Lawyer

Sooo, I took some stuff down...  shouldn't have posted that I guess.  Told my story..  It will be back..

Why I Think That Mother's Day is Sort of Bullshit

Why in the world would I say something like that?  Oh my goodness.  Don't I love every mother's day?  Don't I think women deserve a day where they are treated like a queen?  Fuck no.

 

Women Deserve to be treated like Goddesses every single day of the year.  Also, why is there a war a Christmas, yet mother's day..  no one says anything.  Well, fuck that.

 

Mother's day is great in those families that have lot's of money to go do mother's day things.  I have had amazing mother's Days..  My boys are wonderful and they go the extra mile on the day.

 

That being said, I have a "normal" situation, I can see my grandma, I can text my mom and the children I gave birth to sort of spend the day.  When I think of the amount of women left out.  The one's that don't have kids?  The one's who's mothers have passed, you name it, this day could be more torturous than Valentines Day for a single person.

 

It was originally supposed to be a celebration of women..  not the womb, or the ability to have children.  Let's take this day back and celebrate women, instead of just the ability to make a baby in your belly.  

IF YOU ARE A PARENT WITH A KID IN SCHOOL... YOU NEED TO READ THIS

I have a story to tell, OOh, I like this font.  Anyway, I have a story to tell.  Names are changed, but this happened.  I find myself compelled to tell some of this story because I hope everyone shares this with everyone.  Maybe my friend didn't stop a school shooting..  but then again..  maybe she did.  Maybe she fucking, fuck this...  this happened to me.  To me and several other young people who shouldn't have to deal with things like this.

There is a boy..  he is 18 and was an Eagle Scout.  He was a friend of my family.  We all love him very much.  I wanted to help him.  I wanted to be his mentor, and guide him.  This kid has a mama that kicked him out when he was 10 telling him she didn't give a shit.

He moved in with grandparents, whom had already raised their kids.  He had very little guidance in the areas of immediate gratification, being a bully, handling his anger...  he was PISSED.  And no wonder.  Mamas that don't take care of their babies are the cause of so much damage in the world it makes my heart weep.

I do what I can to help these babies.  I have a lot of babies.  Two are mine, the rest are broken or orphaned baby birds (not actually birds, people) make their way to me.  They always have.  I love that I can talk to them and they think that I am cool so I have a rapport with teenagers, I always have.  Except my own...  that is another blog.

I thought I could help this violent and angry baby bird.  I was wrong.  My youngest son is in Boy Scouts and last week was at his weekly meeting, held in a church building that is local in my area.

Let me try to explain the players in this now, so there is no confusion, my two boys, Scout 2 shall be the angry bird (who is 18 and now no longer a scout but a leader) and scout 1 whom you will meet in a moment.

The damaged bird had been at my house quite a lot leading up to this.  I naively thought I could help him.  When I realized that I needed to ABORT ABORT, back away slowly...  it was too late.  My oldest son came to me after receiving a phone call from scout 2.  Scout 2 informed my son that Scout 2, my broken bird, had lifted his shirt and showed scout 1 a gun, an illegal handgun, tucked into the waist of his pants.

Now, as you can quite imagine scout 1 freaked out a little, then as he drove home he freaked out a lot and called my oldest son right away to tell him what scout 2 had done.  My son immediately came to me and my husband.

Mind you, everyone knows this boys is troubled.  We wanted to do the right thing.  However, at first the story was it was in the parking lot.  No, we then found out it was loaded and in the meeting in Scout 2's pants.  For the entirety of the meeting.

These boys have all been friends for a long time.  Neither my son, nor scout 1 wanted to get scout 2 in trouble.  However, the dads spoke on the phone and decided to leave the issue with the Troop's main pooh bah leader.  By this time it was around 1030 at night.  We were called by the other dad and informed that the grand pooh bah was going to alert the pastor that is in charge of the church.

Settle in, this is quite the story.

My husband told me before him and the rest of the "players" went to sleep that we trust the pastor of the church to do the right thing.  This has to be reported to the police.  Someone is going to get hurt.  I had spent the week with the broken bird, he was manic and a psychopath and I knew it, that is why I was trying to back my family out of it.  I tried to get us away from this cyclone of insanity. 

Now, everyone is in bed except me and my son.  My son had actually had a conversation with scout 2 about what he did.  He admitted to my son on the phone that he had the gun at the meeting.  It was also loaded.  The gun kid was so manic he kept trying to throw red herrings.  He kept trying to swerve the conversation around to talking about girlfriends etc..  My son asked him at least 20 times why we shouldn't call authorities.  I am a social work student and knew that anyone in a position of power (the grand poo bah of the troop and the pastor) were bound by law to contact the police.  

This kid was not talking about getting guns, he had been showing off his shotguns and now he was in a boy scout meeting showing off his latest "cool" thing, which happened to be a gun with the number filed off.  The Pooh Bah and the Pastor knew.  I knew they had to do the right thing, notify the police immediately..  as a social worker, nurse, Doctor, you name it, you know of an immediate threat like that..  that is what you do..  period.  Even if I had called mental health at the beginning of the night they would have been obligated to notify the police.  There simply was no way around it.

Here is a cute bunny to cleanse your pallet...  this is going to get a lot worse.

So, as I sat here with my oldest son we were talking about how we wish someone would let us know that the law was informed.  There was school in a few hours, the one scout 2 was kicked out of because he was caught with a knife in school; yeah that school.  

We started to wonder, how do we let them know?  How to we warn them not to let this child into the school?  I knew that in the manic state he was in, anything was possible.  Don't get me wrong.  I really love this kid.  He got a really bad shake at life and all he wanted was a mama to love him...  I wish I could have helped him.

So, at that point I pictured the red hair guy from the Sandusky stuff.  You know, the one that told his bosses and did nothing else?  Yeah, him..  I thought of him and I needed to make sure the cops were called, so I called them.  Never even considering the possibility that they had not yet been called.  My son and I talked it all through, we thought..  only we had no plan for what to do if they hadn't already been called.  It was impossible that they hadn't been called right?

The lady answered at the non-emergency number and I explained that I just needed to make sure they had been called.  That this kid could be dangerous and I was worried about the school.  Guess what readers?  The cops had not yet been called.  I was the first one, at 1am to call the cops.  

I was berated by the lady, saying we should have called hours ago, and I told her that I trusted that the people in charge would have done so.  Nope..  It was me.  FUCK!  I said lady, I was never going to be the one that called you.  I was worried about the school kids.  

So, now we have a grand pooh bah and a pastor that knew of this incident and did nothing.  They were at least supposed to alert all members of the troop with a letter, they didn't do that either.

So, this leaves me in quite the predicament.  Gun boy is mad because I called the cops..  and the boys scouts as well as that church don't look so good as far as I am concerned, they can go to hell, and my son is out of that troop.  He will get his Eagle from people that he respects, not leaders that are afraid to do the right thing.

Now, yeah...  there is more...  want another bunny?

I do not mean to make light of this.  This has shattered everyone at my house as well as everyone at the house of scout 1..  the kid who saw the gun. 

When I got off the phone with the police lady she got my number and said there are troopers in the area and she would have them call me if they have questions.

15 minutes later BOOMBOOMBOOM goes the "cop knock" on my front fucking door.  They were shining the lights in my house.  We had the windows blacked out because we were scared of gun kid.  I was shaking because I have a nervous condition, the cop would not accept that this is as calm as I was going to get and that I have a nervous condition.  His response was to shine that fucking mag light in my face (which makes my condition SO much worse) and just kept saying "calm down".  Because I have bad teeth and I was shaking I was automatically, in their mind, on meth.  In reality I don't have the money to fix my teeth which are bad because I had braces and they cracked my soft, European teeth.  I will fix them when I have the money..  until then I am still a human.  Not everyone with bad teeth is poor and stupid.  I may be poor but I am not ignorant or stupid. 

Now, he called my son out, who by the way was a fucking mess.  He didn't want to tell on his friend, but how do we feel if he flies off and kills someone?  He knew we had to.  I had to let him talk to the police.  We both said, no threats have been made, he is manic, crazy, and showing off.  However, he had already admitted blackouts to me.  I knew he had them.  I told the police he had them.  They told me to calm the fuck down.

Added note here, if anyone, ever, ever, ever again tells me to calm down they are getting punched in the neck.

They got the information from my kid.  The officer was awful.  Terrible.  He got the information about scout 1, and they left for his house to get his version.  However, before he left he looked my child in the eye and said, "you should have let them handle this in house, now this kids life is going to be ruined and it is all your fault".  My son is not the same.  He will never be the same.  He was shattered.  We both were.

Neither of us could believe that in a climate like the one that we live in, with all the school shootings, shouldn't a manic guy with an illegal firearm be reported to the police?  I fucking sure as hell think so.  It still doesn't quite seem real.

The cops went to scout 1's house.  They were very nice to him.  Very nice.  Turns out we were fucking telling the truth and uh-oh..  yeah it is a level 3 felony just for having the gun in the church.  

They arrested the kid and he turned on the guy that sold him the gun and got out immediately.  Wrote me a massive text talking about how he needs me to be his friend one second then cussing me for ruining his life in the next breath..  again..  not real secure with his state of mind.

Two days ago I called the high school.  Obviously I can't stop thinking about all that has gone down because this sounds like fiction.  It felt like fiction, like I was floating like a balloon waiting for someone to pop me.

So I talked to a lovely vice principle at the school.  Again, just making sure that someone did their job and the school was notified.  I am horrified to say I was the first to call.  They were notified of nothing.  So I gave them a description of the car and they know the kid.  She was headed straight for the principle and the office to let them know that under no circumstance should this child be allowed in the school.  This was days after the initial incident.

Now, I don't like the word cover-up.  I can tend to be a conspiracy theorist.. however, this was a fucking cover up.  No one wants anyone to know that the ball was dropped by many people, including the police.  I have plans that include that fucking cop apologizing to my son for doing the right fucking thing.

Here is the best fucking part...  the household everyone talks shit about.  They say that I am a no good pot head, because I think medicine should be legal.  They hate us because we don't go to church...  we are the black sheep..  We are the non-Christians who are destined for their version of hell. Yet, what do ya know?  WE were the ones that are taking the heat and taking a stand.  The fucking heathens doing the right thing?  I wish I was fucking surprised.

What the fucking fuck is wrong with the world when the very people who are vilified are the only ones that did the right fucking thing?  With the exception of scout 1, he did the right thing and like my son he is torn to shreds about it.

I was treated like a crazy drug addict and my son was treated like a criminal for reporting a loaded, illegal, gun in a scout meeting.  

The main point I want to leave everyone with is this...  don't assume that people in power that you trust..  don't ever assume they will do the right thing.  This story is proof that even the cops were sort of in favor of keeping this a secret.  Fuck secrets.

Sandy Hook, Columbine, all the shootings that have broken our hearts...  how many parents tried, like me, to do the right thing?  How many warnings were there that were ignored?  We don't hear about this happening on the news.  Reports before hand?  That's crazy, of course there couldn't have been.  Now I know better, but it doesn't make me feel better.  Not even a little bit.

It fucking sucks to be the ones.  It sucks bad.  It doesn't feel good, there is no parade and your stomach will probably hurt for a month, because it feels really shitty  My son missed two days in school because his stomach hurt so bad from the stress he couldn't even stand up straight...  but if I saved a kid from getting shot, it was worth it.

I am stepping back from the entire thing for the moment to catch my breath and allow my family to heal.  Then, fuck the bad teeth..  People need to know.  People need to do the right fucking thing, no matter how hard it is. 

This is one of my favorite pictures with my mom.  It isn't the best shot, obviously my eyes are closed and you can't even see my mom..  But I have been thinking of things a lot lately, as I am sure you can tell by my rapid fire posts on a blog that the world can see.  We lived in a very tiny trailer at this time and we would do things like dry our hair and paint our nails in the kitchen so we were out of everyone's way.  I have fond memories of that floor.

I need the world to know that my mother is one of those people that others wish they could be.  She is humble, loving, kind, amazing, caring, actually if I don't stop we could be here all day.  She is one of the strongest women I have ever known.  She moved a household by herself with a fucking lawn mower.  I never saw her cry.  I wish I would have, I could have hugged the tears away, but she believed that you shouldn't let your children see you cry.  

Yes, you heard me, she moved an entire fucking house with a lawn mower.  She got me off of heroin, which was so far out of her range of experience, but she sat up with me.  She helped me take 100 showers and she made me as many waffles as I could eat.  For some reason I was hungry for Eggo...  She stayed up all night with me.  She is my hero.  I accepted long ago that I could never be as good as her.  Or as strong as her.  I am simply glad that she accepts this broken version of me.

She is the best grandma in the world, and would, to this day, take a bullet for any of us.  I cannot express what an amazing woman she is.I learned what unconditional love meant from my mother.  I learned to do the right thing from my mother.  Everything that is good about me, is so; because of my mom.

She embodies joy and love in a way that is rare to see.  I am blessed that she is my mom.  I remember when I was very young and she was hugely pregnant with my brother and restless, we sat outside and listened to katydids and talked.  It is one of my earliest memories and it is a beautiful one.  Life got messy later because of my dad, and I know that it broke her for a while.  It would break anyone.  

That said, she was fucking broken..  never showed it..  moved us with a fucking lawn mower and a wagon....  while she was broken.  Showed us nothing but bravery and love.  I was a total ass hole..  She was still nice to me.  I would have kicked my ass about a billion times by now, but she loves me, she will still give me a band aid because she is unconditional love.

When Life Hands you a Shit Sandwich

Helvetica seems an appropriate font for this message.  I am writing because I have thought I was being all "house wifey" at least doing something other than school.  I thought that it would be brilliant if I went ahead and started scanning all my photos that I have collected over the years.  Many of which are on no digital medium at all.  Not to mention my skills at restoration, maybe I can do some cool stuff.  I digress

My family was sort of strange, like everybody loves Raymond, except not at all.  We live in Southern Lancaster County AKA "where the fuck are we?" Some of us run a business together, and for most of my childhood we were literally a stones throw away from all of our cousins. This still doesn't sound that odd and I suppose I was very lucky.  I had a wonderful time growing up.  Never when I was at home.  Always with my cousins and their parents.

My dad hated his life and took it out on all of us.  He finally left when I was 15.  It was a relief.  He was miserable all the time.  That rubs off on a kid.  Even 20 years later.  He finally left, but my mother was shattered.

She is one of those wives that lives for her husband.  Even when he would stay out all hours of the night she would still wake up every fucking morning and make his cheating ass breakfast, coffee in a thermos, and a very large lunch.  From work he brought her crabs.  Not the picnic kind either.

So I lived right next to, and spent most of my time with families that were not dysfunctional.  My mom tried, but she was broken.  My brother is four years younger than me.  Before the divorce even I would spend as much time as I possibly could at Angie's house, she is my closest cousin in age; because mine was so awful and sad.

I am scanning pictures and not only did my mother never pose for a picture with me when I graduated, my dad wasn't even there.  I found the following picture of Angie and her dad and I was so happy for her that she got to know what that feels like.

That is one of the most beautiful pictures I have ever seen.  My dad didn't..  he just wasn't.  Ever.  Then he was gone.  I am almost 40 and still cry over this?  I guess it took me this long to admit to myself that I am fucking hurt.  I see now that I had misplaced anger toward Angie and her family..  I learned long ago that it was jealousy.  I let jealousy ruin my relationships with my family.  I don't know how to fix that...  But I am happy that they have each other.  I miss Angie and Uncle Mark being silly.  I fucked that up.  Jealousy is a mean mistress and will own you before you even know she is coming.

My mother is amazing to this day.  Just today she put a band aid on my pinky.  I have been very sad and feeling like I need hugs from her often.  She gives them readily.

Recently we were told that we had a month to find a new place to live.  We lost our fucking minds.  To say short notice..  we knew we had nowhere to go.  My amazing little brother called and said that he was working something with my dad.  We went to his house the next night.

He has two houses that are sort of connected.  There is an entire house under his house that sits empty.  I was crushed, bawling, begging, please we need somewhere to go.  We are going to be on the street.  He said "blah blah blah" it doesn't matter what he said because really what he should have said is, my 3rd wife threatened to leave me if I let you move in.Truth.

My brother, my mom, my Uncle Mark, Larry, they were there for us.  They gave me peace because I was assured that they, at least they, would make sure that we were not out on the street.

I have not spoken to my father since.  He thinks that because things worked out and we got to stay in our house that what he did is okay.  I do not have the patience to explain to him why I have no room for his shit in my life any more. 

Thanks for making me exist spern donor, move along ain't nobody got time for that.  

Random Day, Random Post, Random Randomness

I have been working with different fonts, to figure out the one I am in love with.  Why is it so hard to pick a font.  When I was doing graphic design I got really good at making the background, or putting the layers together in a way that worked, but every single damn time...  THE FONT.  I have literally spent days trying to figure out which works best.  I think, possibly, that is because there are so damn many of them..  Like Photoshop, there is so much that you can do, it is so easy to get lost in the possibilities and end up with some crap and still no font.

The font ties things together.  Nice a neat, like the women and men that work that stall at the mall and make your presents look like Martha Stewart herself had done it?  Yeah, that is what the right font does.  As I type this out I realize that this can be a metaphor for life..

We get so bogged down with all the things that need done.  All the things we think we need fall by the wayside, while we are figuring out which minivan to purchase, thinking about the bills, things we must do.  I get that and I have been there.  However, now that I have gotten so ill I have spent a lot of time thinking, hence the helter skelter way in which I present information, it is all in my brain, screaming to get out.  I hope that if I type enough blogs the literal ringing in my ears will stop.  No I am not that stupid, of course that was my silly attempt at some humor.

Everything can overwhelm, then you end up with the car and the house, and the dog and the 2 and a half kids and still feel empty; still feel like this isn't what you signed up for.  On the commercials it looks like SO much more fun.  Babies shit all the time and they make your titties forever different, not to mention the stretch marks..  then they get older and school happens and maybe bullies, maybe your kid is the bully.. 

 

 

 

The last thing I have to say on the topic of kids for today is this:  If you give birth to a human being, it is your fucking job to make sure they are a decent fucking human being.  It isn't that hard, take their screens away, take them the fuck outside and just be there for them.  Don't act like since they can suddenly feed themselves like you are no longer responsible for that child.  The "Mothers" of the world, myself included, are tired of having to try to fix your shitty kid because you did a shitty job.  Woman up (like man up only for girls) and do your mother fucking jobs.

When you are overwhelmed it is essential to bring it in.  Meaning, I know there are bills..  I know there are struggles.  I know there are calls from the school and you feel like this is impossible...  but live day by day.  Worrying about what already happened, or what might happen is a total waste of time.  Worrying isn't going to change a damn thing, except make you less functional.  Worrying never got me any fucking where, ever.  It changes nothing.  It only makes you less capable of dealing with things as they come.  It's as wasted as anger..  no one gives a shit if you are pissed off and certainly you are not going to communicate effectively because you are raging..  same thing.

This is one the the hardest things I have had to teach myself as an adult.  That I have to sit back and try to relax and let nature take it's course.  Go out in nature.  Get in tune with it.  Fucking relax and handle your shit. 

Doing the Right Thing

 

So, I haven't written anything in quite some time now.  There has been some major shit going on in our lives and I can't talk about it yet.  I want to talk about it.  Holy shit do I want to talk about it, and I will just as soon as I can.

Until then I can discuss "doing the right thing".  I know that in my life the right thing can sometimes get blurry and we don't want to do the right thing or be the bigger person.  It was nearly impossible for me to walk away from a situation recently.  I had to go shopping with no phone.  Retail therapy times a thousand.  Turns out, being the bigger person and just ignoring the jabs from the haters can be a good thing.  Even if you have to go shopping, running, driving..  whatever to calm down and think rationally, do it.  

I realize and I am so familiar with just how blurry those lines can be when you have fibromyalgia.  My brain tends to tell me, emergency, something needs done..  then..  nothing.  In a lot of situations that is really a bad thing.  Sometimes, like when I witnessed a wreck, I flew out of my car and into the ditch to help the man get out of his car.  I didn't give it a second thought.  Did it hurt?  Fuck yeah it hurt and I spent nearly a week dealing with the physical harm that it had done to my body.  Would I do that again?  Hell yes, without a thought.

However, I saw that wreck, that decision is an easy one for me.  I wish they were all so easy.  My husband says to wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.  He is from Tennessee, him and his mama have some really good ones.  This fits here.  I cannot hope that situations will be easy.  

I hope it doesn't happen to you but if something horrible happens, even while you are still trying to comprehend it, in the front of your mind you know what the right thing to do is, you fucking need to listen to yourself.  This can be one of the hardest things you have ever had to do but grab your junk and do the right thing, no matter how it hurts.  In the end, you think that maybe you will get that sense of peace..  like.  AHH I did the right thing.  NOPE.  that probably won't happen, nor will a parade and glitter.  That said, you still have to do the right fucking thing.  Even if blowback will hurt you..  you fucking do the right thing.  No matter what.  

 

We are the black sheep here...  we are the tiny green dot in a sea of red.  We are not liked.  People say horrible things behind out backs about us..  BUT..  put us in a situation and you can bet the marijuana activist, her atheist husband, and her two teenage boys in a press..  we will do the right fucking thing.  

So, if there are any owners, leaders, pastors...or anyone who thinks they should handle something awful in house, you are fucking wrong.  If you are a leader of children, you do not let them take the heat because you were too much of a pussy to do the right fucking thing.