May Day

Twitter was afire this evening, as I'm sure you're well aware.

Many significant things occurred on the date of May 1 over just the last 80 years of history:

May 1, 1930 the ninth planet of our solar system was named, Pluto.
May 1, 1931 the Empire State Building was dedicated in New York City.
May 1, 1945 Adolf Hitler was confirmed as dead.
May 1, 1948 North Korea is established with Kim Il-sung as leader.
May 1, 1956 the Polio vaccine is made available to the public.
May 1, 1961 Castro declares Cuba to be a socialist nation and does away with elections.
May 1, 1970 President Nixon announces that Armed forces in Vietnam would be entering a neutral county, Cambodia, in pursuit of enemy troops.
May 1, 1978 Naomi Uemura becomes the first person to reach the North Pole alone, via dog sled.
May 1, 1982 The World Fair opens in Knoxville, TN.
May 1, 2003 President George W. Bush announced to the world "Mission Accomplished" in regards to major combat operations in Iraq, declaring that the operations have ended.
May 1, 2009 Sweden legalizes same-sex marriage country-wide.
May 1, 2011 President Obama announces that Osama bin Laden has been confirmed dead, at the hands of United States Armed Forces.


Yes, the terrorist leader that was in charge of the attacks that occurred on American soil, by using American jets, has been proclaimed and confirmed as being dead.

There is much cheering, Hoorah-ing, and shared patriotism across this country...Democrats & Republicans alike standing side by side, each supporting the team they're on, but shoulder to shoulder, with the same chants. Both Democrats & Republicans are not sad to hear of the death of Osama bin Laden. This manhunt & issuing war started almost 10 years ago, under the direction of a Republican President and now the manhunt has ended under the direction of a Democratic President. This is not a victory for Bush, nor is a victory for Obama. BUT it IS a victory for both of them. As Commander in Chief they are in charge of directing the Armed Forces and it is under that direction that they are in the Middle Eastern deserts to begin with.

Now, I do not agree with all or even many aspects of this particular war. It has, in my non-essential opinion, been a war that was started not only in a country hundreds of miles away from the supposed target, but had the feel of just being a grudge fuck to finish the job started by a man's daddy nearly two decades before. This war has left us shamefully in debt, the country deeply divided along party & racist lines, and THOUSANDS of young men & women lying in graves.

Of course, I'm not discounting the role self-entitled assholes played in this country going into severe debt by their scandals, billions in bailouts to companies that never deserved such in the first place, who have no intentions of repaying their debts, whether outright paying their debts or by paying taxes. Tax cuts for companies and individuals who net millions of dollars every year so that they can own luxury items en masse and do nothing really for anyone else.

All that aside, the news of Osama's death did bring a feeling of closure to my being. See, I remember the morning of September 11, 2001. Ironic as it may sound I actually wrote this poem before going to sleep around 3am that morning, before the attacks...and it would seem that I have not actually typed it up into this blog, so I'll have to find my written copy and type it up for you, unless I can find it on Poetry.com...and it would turn out to be that poetry.com is shutting down on May 4th...ironically my 29th birthday...and searching for myself turns up tens of thousands of poems, either by a Stephanie or that mention Stephanie in it. I also tried other search variations to no avail. So, I guess for the purpose of this paragraph I'll include a typed version of the poem at the end of this post, so to keep myself on track with this post, and then I'll also create a completely separate post for that poem. I keep telling myself I'll get these all typed up and stuck in my blog, and I keep slacking on that.

As I was saying, though, I very distinctly remember September 11, 2001. I was just barely 19 years old, living in Decatur, Arkansas, in my cousin's grandmother's attic. I had met my (now) ex-husband just a few months beforehand, he was away at truck driving school - heh, what a waste of time & money - in fact he graduated with his CDL on September 11, 2001. I was working at Ruby Tuesday as a server during the evenings and worked at Sonic during the day as an assistant manager. When I got home from work it was well after midnight of 9/11. I called a dear friend of mine to see how he was doing, etc...he told me of his nuptial exchange earlier that evening and pending deployment to Iraq, scheduled for the next morning. Keep in mind this is before the fateful attacks.

My parents were both sitting in a county jail roughly 100 miles away, one of these days I promise to tell that story, it's been almost 10 years and I still am boiling angry over it all. My brother, Daniel, was also sitting in the jail for being a punk. Samantha and Duke were living with my dad's oldest sister & her husband.

My head & heart were both quite heavy with everything going on in my personal life, I reflected back on my life, and started deeply missing my late husband...he'd been killed in a car wreck roughly 18 months before. He inspired the poem I wrote that early morning.

After a few hours of tears I passed out and slumbered, I didn't have to be at work until 4pm at Ruby Tuesday, I was off work from Sonic the next morning. I had plans of sleeping until well after noon.

My plans were shattered with a phone call. Since I shared the house phone line with Grandma Wanda I generally allowed it to ring several times before I answered it early in the mornings. This particular morning I answered the phone around the 5th ring. It was my Aunt Renae, Wanda is her mother, Renae is also married to my dad's older brother. ((another tidbit, Renae's older brother is married to my dad's older sister)) That's how tight my family was - folks marrying their in-laws(heh heh).

Renae was in a panic, told me to turn on Good Morning America, something about a plane, and asked where her momma was...I looked out my window, saw that her car was gone, it turns out she was taking a friend of hers to a doctor's appointment that morning.

I sat there in a sleep deprived state and turned on my TV, flipped to the appropriate channel, and then sat there confused by what I was seeing. The reporter (and her name escapes me at this moment) was reporting about a plane hitting one of the Twin Towers directly behind her open window studio, you could see the smoke pouring out of the building. My heart stopped cold. My late husband's father had just received a job position that put him on the 103rd floor of the North tower. The first one hit. As I sat there watching the coverage I no longer was tired from being up until well after 3am. I sat there in shock attempting to absorb what was going on, not really hearing what was being reported. I just remember holding the phone to my ear in stunned silence.

It was as I was watching the coverage of the first building being hit that I saw, as I'm sure hundreds of thousands others saw, the second plane fly into view and hit the second of the Twin Towers. For the next several hours I sat there in the middle of my bed in stunned silence as I watched the events play out, live. Later in the afternoon I gathered up the courage to call my late-husband's father's cell phone...to no avail. I only received a recorded message telling me that service was unavailable at this time. I called his wife, who was still in Decatur, Georgia, having given birth to twin girls not but a few weeks before, she stayed in their home there until he was able to find a place for them to all move into. She had no news of him either. We grieved for him and so many other victims together, hundreds of miles apart. We kept the phone conversation short in case by some miracle he survived and tried to call.

I went to work as scheduled. The restaurant was empty all day sans a few customers here and there. We went down to a minimum staff and I stayed there in an effort to keep busy. Parts of me later wish I had not been the one to volunteer to stay. I spent part of that evening being interrogated by 'important officials'. See, I worked at the Ruby Tuesday that was just down the street from the Wal-Mart Home Offices, in Bentonville, Arkansas. There's not too many decent eating establishments nearby, at least not then, so it was an ideal easy place to get to. Traffic was also a bitch because there were lines for miles of persons attempting to get gas for their vehicles...and of course price gauging was rampant! Everyone was in fear of there being no gas by morning, so everyone was willing to pay $5-8 per gallon - I count myself fortunate that I was too broke to even attempt nonsense and I still had enough gas in my car to make it home & back to work, I'd wait until the lines weren't atrocious, at least. The gas prices went back down to the low $1.20 range again by morning, so I missed that expense. Back to my interrogation...It really wasn't more than a 20 minute conversation that left me feeling like a small pile of rubble. See, you have to understand, I really don't notice things like a person's skin color, private conversations, accents, the like...I'm not lying, I really don't, or didn't, since that day I've done a wee bit better about paying closer attention to folks, but nothing significant. My job was to serve food, refill drinks, and then clean-up afterward. If my customers engaged me in conversation I was polite, conversed, and went on my way. Over time I'd recognize regular customers, but most folks were only there for 30-45 minutes and I'd never see them again, to the tune of a hundred folks or more a day.

There was a particular table of two men that I waited on, they sat in a small booth, in the next booth sat another man who, from there side he was sitting on, was able to see these two men converse. According to the single man, the two men in the other booth spoke a foreign language, but their gestures & overall body language suggested to him that they were happy about the attacks of the morning. I know I waited on the two men, as I was the only server on duty for the non-smoking side of the establishment, but I honestly have no recollection of anything regarding them, not a few hours later, not now. I found out, just prior to being questioned by the officials, from my manager that the gentleman I'd complained about as being a crappy tipper & squatter, actually waited until the other men left, then followed them out. Apparently they were driving a white, unmarked van, with Canada tags.

I also found out the next day that the van was full of explosives, much like the ones used in the Oklahoma City Bombing, and the intended plan was to take out the Wal-Mart Home Office building...or maybe the elaborate satellite system that Wal-Mart has in that area...hearsay is a wonderful thing, isn't it? I was questioned because I had served these men and they'd been in the establishment, talking, for quite sometime. Again, I reiterate, I pay no attention, whatsoever, to someone else's private conversation, unless a word or phrase catches my attention. On Sept 11, 2001, nothing really caught my attention. I went through the motions of doing my job, I smiled, I was friendly, I did everything under the roof of that building to attempt to keep myself from watching any of the numerous televisions in the building.

I was interrogated nonetheless, I remember my manager making a huge deal out of it, telling me I needed to pay attention when such things were going on, or something to that general effect. Of course I told him the same things I told the officials, or told the officials the same things I'd told him. I had absolutely no clue, I didn't exactly remember serving them until I lined up the table number with the approximate time and went through my sales record. They ate some salads and drank tea...I recalled them because there had been some sort of issue with one of the salads, they were both polite, and had left me a fair tip - outside of that I had/have no clue.

Later that evening, as I was sitting in my bed, glued to the television, willing the phone to ring with news of my late-husband's father, I got a call from my (now) ex-husband, telling me that the bus schedule was completely out of whack, and he'd like for me to make the 8-hour drive out to Springfield, Missouri, to pick him up from the truck driving school. To which I obliged, after taking a very short nap. I made the drive out there, then made the drive back because he was drunk when I picked him up and slept the whole way back. I slept for a few hours at his place before driving the hour back to my place so I could get ready for work again the next morning.

My hopes of hearing anything about my late-husband's father dwindled down to near nothing as the hours ticked slowly by. Every hour I wasn't asleep from exhaustion I spent glued to a television set or going through the motions of doing my job.

At 8:49pm, September 15th I received the phone call. Hearing the voice of what should have been my (step)mother-in-law on the other end of the phone stopped my heart. She was hysterically crying and incoherently speaking. I was finally able to register the words she was trying to say. He was alive. Later I learned that he had come down with a stomach virus or food poisoning of some sort that rendered him unable to leave a bathroom for any length of time, so had missed work that particular morning. He also said it wasn't until the next morning that he even knew what had all transpired while he was sick & in bed, or the bathroom, as he was 'getting ready for work'. He'd flipped on the news, per his normal morning routine, and saw that he had no where to go to work. He'd relentlessly tried calling, but he was getting many of the same error messages we were getting.

I left out on the morning of the 18th to join the clean-up effort. I still cannot even think into words the impact that experience left me with. The images in my head haunt me to this day.

That is why it saddened and angered me as I was reading posts on Facebook upon the announcement that Osama bin Laden was confirmed dead, at the hands of United States Armed Forces.

Statuses such as :
"hopefully there won't be as much coverage about Osama as there was on Michael Jackson..." With a follow-up comment of "I watched it when I was about 11 but don't remember it hardly at all. "

Then others who, are older than myself even, so they definitely remember the day, posting that they won't believe it until they see his dead body, suggesting that President Obama and such are just lying about Osama's death. Of course they're the same persons who don't have enough faith in this country to verify that the President is actually legal to be President...Trump & Palin supporters to put it mildly.

Then of course you have the persons who are angry with President Obama for him being proud of this accomplishment...because it's, in their eyes, President W. Bush's victory, even though he was at the helm of the search for 7 years, but he was searching in caves & deserts, instead of the country, two countries away, where Osama was actually staying, in a mansion.

THOUSANDS of lives have been lost during this war that has been going on for nearly a decade now. More than half of that time we've been at war in the wrong country to even begin to search for Osama. Yes, we got Saddam Hussein, 20 years after the original war to find & destroy him had started, and almost 15 years since that particular war 'came to an end'.

This isn't an accomplishment to be taken lightly or for persons to fuss petty bullshit about. Real women, men, daughters, sons, wives, husbands, mothers, and fathers all lost their lives in the efforts for this day to be seen. Others are now afflicted with lifelong handicaps - mental & physical - as a result of working towards seeing this day come about.

My own baby brother, although only 14 or so at the time of the attacks in this country, proudly worked his tail off to be able to serve as a Marine. He's had surgery on both his feet and a knee as a result of a roadside bomb that went off near his convoy while he was in Afghanistan. He was in the desert and mountains working to accomplish this goal, as his wife, another great Marine, was pregnant with their first child, on base, in Japan, and then North Carolina. He was only of the luckiest ones of his convoy to escape with only a few scars now to show for it and a second baby now on the way, just a year later.

But, as the world, and more specifically, citizens of the United States, rejoice and squabble at the news of Osama's death, Duke's job has not been declared done. At any given moment he could be called upon to make another trek into the deserts and mountains on the other side of the planet. He could potentially, again, miss the birth of one of his children, this time a daughter, as he fights to ensure that we are each able to safely see our own children come safely into this world.

I remember being completely overjoyed when my parents brought him home from the hospital, days after he was born. I was barely 5 years old but there was nothing so exciting as having a new baby brother to look after. When I became pregnant with my own children I was given great birthing stories from my mother, who endured four pregnancies and labors, without the aid of pain meds. The story of her pregnancy & delivery of Duke is nothing short of a miracle. By all rights he cheated death at birth. The placenta detached and pieces were being delivered prior to Duke making his appearance. By sheer luck or a miracle Duke was born without any other issues. The odds of him surviving were slim to none, if you go by the 'rules' of child birth, but he did it.

Mikeal completely idolizes his Uncle Duke. He'd do anything for or with Duke, happily. The part that makes me a 'bad' mommy or big sister is when the two of them are together I often confuse their names. I'll call Mikeal Duke and Duke Mikeal and I would fight to the death for either one of them. Truth be told, when I found out Duke was considering a military career I threw my hat in to join the military as well, I was denied though because I was a single mom at the time...I think the recruiter also wasn't terribly fond of me telling him I wanted to join because I wanted to be President and I thought that it'd only be fitting if I had some service experience on my resume. He's one of those hard-assed uptight Republicans that thinks a woman in office would be the worse thing to ever happen to this country, period, end of story.

I digress though. I'm at peace knowing that the mission to capture & kill Osama is now accomplished - only 8 years after someone claimed some mission in this pursuit to have been accomplished. However, it is with a heavy heart that I continue to move forward. My prayers and thoughts are with all the dedicated service men and women, both those still caught in this mess, and the families of those who have died as a result of this mess. May each of them be greeted with the respect and honor they each rightfully deserve and have earned.

♥ I love you Duker!!! ♥
((and Amanda))

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It Started as just a Comment...

I started to write a comment on A Daddy Blog's blog post about Disney Princesses & the messages conveyed by the Princesses of the various stories. I highly recommend reading the post before reading too far into this post of mine, simply because my post may not make a great deal of sense otherwise. *maybe* I could be wrong, but he wrote a great post, so either way you should still check it out, as well as the comments posted.

*~*Disclaimer: I've been drinking tonight, a lot. My mind is in rambling mode...or my drunk fingers are, I can't tell.*~*

I agree with your sentiment posted, Michael, as well as the points highlighted by the previous commentors.

Both my ex husband & my current husband can be likened to 'The Beast" and myself to Belle - strong willed, intelligent gal, of Beauty & the Beast...the difference is with my ex-husband I thought I could change him over to being a prince charming when he was nothing more than a beast at the core, even still - abusive, controlling, manipulative, you name it...except he was quite the charmer to everyone else, but me, after I was 'sucked in'. Current husband, where he wasn't abusive he did take quite a bit of time & patience to learn what honest love was & that he was worthy of being loved, despite not being 'perfect' by others' standards.

I agree we can't shelter our children from the negative influences...my parents tried, with everything...and from personal experiences, it doesn't matter how well we're taught by our parents, peers, etc we're still going to make some pretty stupid mistakes along the way...its how we learn from those mistakes & grow from said mistakes that shapes us into adults. Some young folks will never experience things like peer pressure to try things like drugs, or wind up in an abusive relationship, etc the list is miles long...I never expected to wind up in any such situation because I was smart, I knew better, I was intelligent, had a straight upbringing, etc...I didn't have the first ounce of street smarts though & that was a hard road to walk after I moved out as a single woman at 18. Then another hard road as a single mom with a toddler before I was 22.

My opinion is - to teach the good, the bad, & the ugly and how to avoid/react to each...then be there for them when/if they fall. That was where I got snared in-my folks weren't there to help me out of a dark situation because they'd taught me better, I went against what I was taught, I had to find my own way out of my own mess. I got the same story from the church I had been attending, other family members, and a random multitude of persons I'd basically grown up with as role models for me. My life was FULL of ideal positive role models. I think I knew MAYBE five whole people who even smoked cigarettes - my grandpa quit when I was 10, he's 78 now, still as feisty as ever, my stepgrandpa smoked what seemed like a carton of cigarettes a day, until the day he died, at 84 years old, from 'old age', and my PaPa smoked until he died 3 days before his 70th birthday - his death was attributed more to just a broken heart from losing my Granny less than a year before after they'd been married almost 50 years. She died of a combination of stress, diabetes complications, and a weak heart, never smoked a day in her life...my Papa was an over the road truck driver & smoked outside, she was barely exposed to any secondhand smoke.

Anyways, my point is - I didn't grow up around alcoholics, those that did have a drinking problem had quit their addictions years before I was old enough to even know they'd drank, ever. I don't think a single person I grew up around ever did any illegal drugs - I wasn't exposed to potheads, meth addicts, coke or heroin junkies...I seriously grew up thinking such things only occurred in bigger cities, like Los Angeles, New York City, & Miami. Of course, now, as an almost 29 year old adult I know better.

I've been exposed to a number of different substances, even ones that I'd never even heard of in my drug awareness classes. I know the street slang for 90% of it too. It is really scary to me to think of what I knew when I moved out of my parents' home, at 18, compared to what I learned within the first 3 years of being out of their home. By the time I turned 19 I was hooked on drinking & smoking pot - to EXTREMES. I sobered up for a while when I found out I was pregnant & then breast feeding, but within two months of leaving my ex, stopping breastfeeding, etc when Mikeal was 13 months old I was back into that party scene....I was also 21, so no longer had to sneak around or fake IDs in order to get into bars and the like. A few months before I turned 22 I found myself homeless with an 18 month old because no one was willing to help me get out of this bad rut I'd found myself in - between the depression, the lack of self-esteem, the complete worthlessness I felt I turned harder towards the "party" lifestyle.

I became the gal that everyone liked, everyone 'trusted', and I was subsequently exposed to more and more substances - I was the go to gal, if anyone ran out of anything I knew who to contact to get more...of course because I didn't do anything more than smoke a bit of weed once in a while and drink like a fish out of water I was a great pack horse to transport *whatever*. Ironically one of my 'contact' persons to get stuff from was/is the lead prosecuting attorney of the city, she guided me as to how to go about getting by with not getting caught, how to get out of having my vehicle searched if I ever was pulled over, the like.

On Mother's Day, right after my 22nd birthday, Mikeal wasn't but 21 months old, I called Child Protective Services on myself. I wanted help, I needed help, I needed motivation or something to get out of this lifestyle I'd gotten myself into. I love Mikeal more than life itself-it was my love for him that prompted me to make that phone call. I PLEADED with the social workers. I BEGGED them to help me, and if they couldn't help me then to at least take Mikeal away from me so he wouldn't be exposed to it all anymore. I was a disgusting excuse of a mother, where my opinion is concerned, frankly that's the only opinion that matters.

Imagine my shock and horror when I was told that because I asked for the help, etc that they saw no reason to intervene and take Mikeal from me. Apparently because I wasn't denying the fact that I was a fairly shitty excuse of a mother and I wanted to protect Mikeal, that he wasn't in any immediate danger, but the living situation was quite dire, (no food, no running water, living with a meth head, & 3 alcoholic adults) then they didn't see the need to take him or do anything at all about my case. They gave me a list of addresses of places I could go to get help, etc during the week. Later that evening, I called again, this time though I told them that I was on the brink of just ending both our lives so that we'd no longer be a burden on society - that worked.

I had to fucking threaten to kill my own child and myself before anyone even glanced in my direction. Two social workers & a police officer came out. In person I told them my first story, of needing Mikeal to be put in a safe home, where he'd be taken care of properly, and I needed help to get my life straightened out. After what seemed like an eternity of pleading they took Mikeal to a group home...the next day they took him to my ex-mother-in-law because she'd seen this as an opportunity to milk the system even further. I wasn't given any restrictions to Mikeal, I was told to get my life straightened out and at any time that I decided I wanted him back to just go get him and bring him back home to myself. And was left at that. It didn't seem to matter that I was needing to turn my alcohol system back into a blood system, or that I was in a dark mental place, etc. I did land myself a fair job, working graveyard shifts at the Waffle House that was within walking distance & then later I got a job at the Denny's just down the road too. I didn't have a vehicle. I tried meth during this time during a particularly horrible week where I was ready to really end it all - it didn't work, I saw no effect from smoking, snorting, or just eating the stuff...and I did a LOT of it that week. The 'professionals' were shocked that I didn't seem to be effected by it. I was over it nearly as soon as I'd started it.

I moved into a slightly better roommate situation - there was at least running water & the power wasn't constantly being turned off. Oh, and they had internet. I turned my 'need' to go out to get drunk into a chatroom obsession. I sobered up because of that chatroom - it was full of great folks, in Texas...I was in Oklahoma, an 8hr drive from the majority of the folks I'd chatted with, including Brian.

By the end of July I was nearly over my obsession to drink & go out, I was also making a fair income, and had someone nearby who was clean & sober & willing to watch Mikeal for me. That's when more problems started. My ex-mother-in-law decided that she didn't want to give Mikeal over to me...after all during those two months the state put her in a housing unit where she only had to pay $25 a month in rent, $25 a month in utilities, got almost $300 a month in food stamps, was awarded her disability for her fake back injury that she'd been working on getting for a while and had been denied several times, her life was GREAT! There was no way in any sort of fucking hell she'd part with her cash cow! She could lock him in a closet and run around all she wanted now. Heck, she even used him to help her in her shoplifting schemes - schemes where she could walk into ANY store empty handed and walk out with a few hundred dollars in cash & merchandise that she'd later sell on the streets.

I digress. After I learned that the ex-hag wasn't going to give me my son back without a fight that I didn't have a leg to stand on to fight one of my dear friends (I've known them all for now almost 8 years) worked a plan with me. He offered to let me live in his house, site unseen, for a few weeks, until I was able to get on my feet there in Austin....I just simply had to get down there with Mikeal. I worked my tail off to make more money...of course the more I earned the more often it seemed that my roommates expected me to pay towards rent, etc, leaving me no further ahead than when I'd started.

I finally was able to get about $500 in my pocket - my grandmother sent me a couple hundred of that, in the mail. I bought myself a Greyhound bus ticket, I was to be leaving out on the 14th of August. I talked my mom into coming up to take me to get Mikeal & drive me to the bus station - we told my ex-hag that I was going to be spending the weekend with my mother & Mikeal, I'd be back on Sunday or Monday, this was a Friday evening. She sent 2 changes of clothes for Mikeal, that was it, and one diaper, although he'd been out of diapers for months when he went to go stay with her in the first place. He'd regressed that much in less than 2 months.

Anyways...my bus left out at 6pm, 12 hrs later it pulled into the Austin terminal. A different chat buddy picked me up at the bus terminal & took me out to where I'd be staying - a GORGEOUS $300K house (for those of you not familiar with what that means in Austin - it meant 4 bathrooms, full entry way, 3 car garage, 4 bedrooms, a huge master suite, formal dining room, HUGE kitchen, HUGE living room, beautiful fenced in private yard, etc...I felt completely out of place. Here I was with every worldly item I owned at that point in two duffle bags, a carry on suitcase, and a normal sized suitcase...I also had a car seat. That was it....well, I did have a few things that my mom took back to her place-enough to almost fill the trunk of her 2door car, but even that didn't amount to much at all.

Over the course of a week complete strangers would drive all the way out there, some from as far as an hour away, to pick me up and take me around town to look for a job. Within a week I landed a job, the next day I was given a car by a different 'complete stranger'. Within a month I met Brian face to face, falling instantly head over heels so fast it still takes my breath away. A week or two later I moved in with him & his roommate.

Of course that wasn't the end of fairy tale. My ex-hag hunted me down & started sending out subpenas that would beckon me to make regular trips back to Oklahoma, she felt completely entitled to Mikeal. I won each and every hearing, simply based on the fact that 1)I'm his mother & 2) she's a convicted felon. She pulled every dirty trick in the book and I was still gullible and naive, we'd work out a 'custody' plan between the two of us...and then she'd run off with Mikeal for a few months with the help of her family. I put a stop to all dealings with her after that incident. She of course hired a lawyer and a few court hearings again the judge finally told her to get over herself and let me care for my child...that was 7 years ago. I've only heard from her once since, and that was about 18 months ago. She told me about how she loved her grandson and yada yada yada yada bullshit until her own son went back to jail for failure to pay child support for a little while. I've not heard from her since, and I don't believe my mom has either (seeing as she has my mother's number, but not my new one). For all I know she's dead from a drug overdose or was caught shoplifting and is now sitting behind bars for the rest of her life, per the terms of her probation from her previous arrest. Either way, GOOD RIDDANCE!

I've only heard twice from the deadbeat sperm donor since I left him in Sept 2003. The first time was in Oct 2005, just a few weeks after I moved back to Oklahoma so I could file for the divorce, then again in February of 2010, where he told the judge he wanted 50/50 custody of Mikeal & to never have to pay child support or he wanted his rights terminated and to never pay child support again. The judge denied him on both accounts and he's still spotty in making child support payments and hasn't bothered with anything else related to Mikeal, the son he loves so much.

Brian on the otherhand, he's been great. We've had some pretty low points, as a couple, broke it off on SEVERAL occasions, but he's always been a daddy to Mikeal. Even when he and I weren't seeing eye to eye there was no denying his relationship with Mikeal, for that reason alone I never completely broke off contact with him...sure we'd gone over a year without seeing/talking to each other, but we had some things individually to get taken care of both legally and personally.

Well, at this point I'm out of alcohol in my juice bottle and out of juice to put in my alcohol bottle, and it's 2am and I should be doing some of my homework assignments, instead writing this entry...but my point is you can give your children the best upbringing in the world, mine was far from 'the best' or even mediocre for that matter, but it was VERY sheltered - I'd never even watched MTV until I was in my mid-20s, and don't care a lick for it - and my young adulthood turned out to be less than stellar. The MOST important thing a parent can EVER teach their child is that they will be there for them to HELP them when they need it and are willing to work for it....and sometimes you have to let them have the opportunities to make some mistakes so that they'll learn from said mistakes so that they can grow away from making deeper mistakes. I'm seriously lucky to have survived those few years with no more scars than what I have now. By all rights I should be dead or sitting in prison for someone else's death or something equally life damning. I can't say I've been given a 2nd chance to make my life awesome...I think I'm pushing the ranks of being on my 20th chance at life, but I can say that the LAST thing I want to do is lie to my children about the reality of life. I don't sugar coat, or make my kids think they don't have to worry about such things because 'we live in a good area'. Because frankly, it doesn't matter in the slightest how nice of an area you think you live in. The crap is everywhere - ALL of it. Right now you have at least one neighbor who beats their spouse, another neighbor that tortures their children, and another neighbor that spends 90% of their time completely strung out on *something*. And maybe that someone is you.

My family and friends, even the ones that saw me on a near daily basis, never knew or admitted that I was being beaten, burned with cigarettes, raped, cut with knives, verbally attacked, etc...yea, sure, I'd tried going to them in the beginning, I tried getting out early...did me absolutely no good to a bunch of folks who preached about how an honorable wife sticks with her husband or the husband had everyone charmed and just thinking that I just had a flare for the dramatic, since I was only 19/20 and he was almost 10 years older than me. After being shot down about it I just got better at hiding it, to the point that I became the things everyone believed me to be - a drunken whore to put it lightly.

I still work on a daily basis to be the woman that I know myself to be before all the bullshit swallowed me, but it's hard. I've only recently gotten to where I trust myself to have an occasional drink or three even, such as I think I've had tonight...I didn't measure out the shots of vodka, I just took a few sips out of the bottle of juice, filled it up with the shot or to I had in my little bottle from a few months ago, then when I drank that down some I poured in a few more shots worth of vodka from the new little bottle Brian brought home for me....But I still can't stomach the smell of whiskey or tequila.

One can make Disney out to be the villain, or MTV, or classmates, or any number of things...the reality of it is it all rests on the shoulders of the parents, caretakers, and role models in a child's life. The lessons taught and learned don't stop when the child becomes a legal adult and moves out of the home. The teaching and molding influence you have over your child doesn't stop until your child has died, at that moment they're no longer able to learn from you. Until that time comes though, they will still continue to learn from you, even after you've passed on before them.

My PaPa's favorite saying all my life was: A day is only wasted if you learn nothing and you teach nothing. Never let a day go wasted. There is always something to learn, even while teaching. He wasn't a scholar, he dropped out of school when he was 8 years old to join the circus, didn't learn to read past that level until he was nearly 60 years old, when he started having to use a computer to drive a semi. However, he was also one of the wisest men I knew. He only passed away about 8 years ago, when I was 20, I saw him on nearly a daily basis for the last 10 years of his life, with the except of the very last year, when I had moved far off to pursue a life with my ex-husband, and I still learn things from the way he lived his life, treated my Granny, their kids, and nearly 20 grandkids and four great-grandbabies (Mikeal was the youngest one born when he passed, Mikeal was 4 months old).

As far as my opinion goes, and it's the only one that matters, my PaPa was a great man. He makes all the Prince Charmings of the Disney franchise look lame. Dads - be the type of man you'd want your daughters to marry. Moms - lighten up and just enjoy...the dishes and laundry will never be caught up and a little dirt behind the furniture never hurt anyone. Money, looks, things, etc mean jack squat. I grew up dirt poor, but I was happy. I married a man with a lot of money (in comparison, at least), who made a lot of money and I was absolutely miserable and mistreated. Now, our family income counts as below poverty level for a family of 4 and I'm happier. I'm still working on some demons & hang-ups I have from my past, but outside of that I have everything I want in my broke, slightly overweight, balding, covered in body hair, Prince Charming. He's kind, honest, trustworthy, loving, and my best friend. That is all I know that matters. The stuff & looks can be gone without even a moment's notice - integrity lives for generations.

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Well, that sucks.

So a week or so ago I made this blog post yay...woohoo...

And then last week everything just imploded on us.

On Saturday of last week Brian had had enough of his original job, that he was still working at, so called in on Sunday and told them to (politely) fly a kite.

We spent a lovely day together as a family, after more than a month of barely seeing him, it was AWESOME!

Then Monday he went to work, all went well, as one can expect a work day to go.

Monday afternoon Mikeal comes home from school and with his arrival home we learn he'd earned himself 3 days vacation from riding the bus back and forth to school.

I wasn't terribly happy because if you'll remember, we bought a truck in December, it 'died' four days later, the top half of the motor was rebuilt over the next two months...and here we sit a few thousand dollars sunk into it later and the whole engine is completely seized up - YAY we get to put a whole new motor in it. So because the truck won't move under it's own power we only have one vehicle, meaning I'd have to get up at 7am, get ready for the day, get Miss Mikaila up for the day, take Mikeal to school, then take Brian to work, have Brian to work by 8:30, Mikeal to school before 8am; Brian works 45 minutes out one way, one direction, Mikeal goes to school 10 minutes the other direction, from the house. I'd then have to go pick up Mikaila from school those days at 2:45, because her bus drops her off at 3:10, but Mikeal is out of school at 3:05, then go home, chill out for a bit, do homework, then leave out at 4:30 to pick Brian up from work at 5:30, get home, cook dinner, and get the kids in bed by 8:30. Wash, rinse, repeat, three days. I am NOT a morning person, at all!

Monday evening came and the (new) boss called and asked Brian to come into work 30 minutes early...weird, but okay...just means my day just started 30 minutes earlier. (I wasn't pleased, but what was I going to do about it?)

Tuesday morning rolls around...get Mikeal off to school a touch early...get Brian out to work, and stick around to find out exactly what the early morning conference was to consist of because we were both slightly worried. The new boss is a great guy, the pay is great, Brian did a great job, but it is, afterall, just a small family owned & ran business, and things can get volatile, quickly.

Fears were confirmed when the owner said he'd love to keep Brian on board, but he doesn't have the time to really help train Brian on the things he still needs to learn, so when he takes time from his vehicles to help Brian with his so they're both losing money. As we all know, money makes the world turn...its not gravitational force as some scientists would want you to believe. So Brian finished up a few things around the shop, boss paid him what was owed to him, with a bit extra (which was awesome)...

Its been a week, maybe two...I haven't kept track.

I love my husband...I really really do.

But we're both going crazy with all this time together...especially since I have been sick with this stupid pneumonia crap and have pages and pages of homework to do and get done. This is my first real semester with a full-time class schedule and its just been a *bit* challenging with the sicknesses, the stress from many angles, and sickness.

BUT Brian expects to be working soon, all our bills are still paid up, the cupboards are stocked, and I only have one week of assignments left before I get a 10 day break from classes. Next week I'm hoping to have the rest of my student loan stipend money and with that I'll be purchasing the new (used, but operable) engine for the truck and if all goes smoothly the truck will be running within a week or two, so I'll have a vehicle again. And Brian should know sometime this week where he'll be working.

It does suck though that I'm putting the purchasing of my new dishwasher off to purchase the engine for the truck, but Mikeal makes a decent substitute in the meantime.

So all is well that ends well, such is life and had it not been for the threat of possible shoulder surgery that we prepared for in February we would not be able to weather this hiccup, but we're weathering it and I've seen evidence of Spring, so I'm content.

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Truck Rebuild 2010 pt 4

The manifold is clean!!!

And now silver...
Valve body covers are going to be red....


...now for him to get to work on cleaning the actual heads....

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Truck Rebuild 2010 pt 3

We can see the heads!!!

As you're likely able to distinguish...the 'orange-red' side is encased in the lovely rust sludge from the blown manifold gasket. The other side is black, as it should be, HOWEVER...it should not look like black sludge either.

This is a prime example of what happens to an engine that is not properly cared for...the wrong antifreeze and mixing the two types of antifreeze will cause the radiator to rust and the antifreeze to turn into sludge, etc as mentioned yesterday. Not changing your oil on a regular basis and using crappy oil will cause a build up of oil sludge. Sludge of any and all nature is BAD for an engine!

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Truck Rebuild 2010 pt 2

Progress is being made...

This is the 'spider'...also commonly known as the fuel injector...pretty nasty looking
YAY! The manifold is out!

The distributor, also fairly nasty, but no significant damage, so should clean up nicely!!!The manifold...VERY nasty and full of 'lovely' sludge...
But it is cleaning up fairly well.... YAY

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Truck Rebuild 2010

...hoping the rebuild is done before 2011....

The other night, on his way home from work Brian, had a head gasket blow in our 'new to us' 1996 Chevy S-10 Extended Cab pick-up. We've only had it for just over a week, with this weekend being the first real weekend Brian would have to check everything out...Instead he is getting to rebuild the whole top part of the engine.


See...this is what happens when a person uses not only the wrong type of antifreeze in their radiator, but this also happens when they mix the two types of antifreeze...You get a lovely 'rust' sludge...

This rust sludge then works it way throughout the engine...making stops at the thermostat housing, where it works to build up the pressure and causes the engine to not really know the correct temp of the engine, thus causing even more antifreeze and coolant to make its way through the engine...

This lovely yellow looking stuff is where antifreeze got into the Intake Manifold by way of a blown intake manifold gasket, as you can see through the vacuum port. This can cause many issues in and of itself. The Intake Manifold gaskets are not a hard repair on these engines. GM's are notorious for this type of repair as the intake gaskets usually have to be replaced every 100,000 miles. Fel-Pro Gaskets make a problem solver kit for this. Luckily, those gaskets are included in the head gasket kit that we bought.


Brian now has the lovely task ahead of him of dismantling the top half of the engine, cleaning out all the sludge, rust, and grime build-up. And praying that such things, as this MAP sensor are not completely shot and also have to be replaced.
For Brian to take this to a shop to be done he's looking at minimally a $1000 repair bill...THANKFULLY I have a mechanically inclined husband, who also works in a parts store (thereby getting us a discount on parts)....I may have to spend this next week sharing the car with him again, complete with 6am wake-ups and multiple trips back and forth into town for doctor, dentist, physical therapy, and work...but the repair should only cost us about $400 out of pocket...This includes the price to replace all the heater hoses, radiator, water pump (maybe), gaskets for the entire top of the engine, cleaner for everything, two oil changes (at least), antifreeze, torque wrenches we don't have, and etc...

Just remember, OIL AND ANTIFREEZE should never mix. This is a sign of a blown head gasket. Never drive a vehicle that this has happened to until it is repaired properly. It may be ok for a few minutes in order to get it off the road, but signs of this condition are poor performance, engine skipping, very quick overheating, knocking, pinging and engine shutdown. if it gets too hot you can wind up replacing the whole engine as you can literally MELT the main and rod bearing to the crankshaft, snap a rod and knock a hole into the engine block.



**post completed in part by my lovely husband**

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I am a HORRID mother

My children ought to be banned from me!

My son is circumcised, my daughter has had her adenoids removed & tubes put in her ears.

Both my children are exposed to cigarette smoke.

I refer to either of them by their name, title, or individual pet name, as opposed to 'It' or 'Thing'.

I get a bit irritated with some of their normal for their age behaviors, but I work to help correct undesirable ones. I would never consider a child I was raising as evil, retched, ...or other condescending adjective that makes their behaviors a fault of theirs as opposed to a lack of attention on my part.

I let them play in dirt and other 'natural' things, to help them explore some of their likes and dislikes.

My house is no where near perfectly neat and organized, but it is child friendly.

My children know their manners - and USE them, even with complete strangers.

I allow my children freedom to be responsible. Either by allowing them to ride their bike without my hawk-eye on them every moment and by assigning them chores around the house.

My first child was exclusively breastfed, even though I worked on and off for that first 13 months, my second child was only partially breastfed for the first couple of months before I gave in to just giving her a bottle, thus ensuring greater peace for both of us at feeding times, even though I haven't held a job outside of the home since I was 7 months pregnant with her.

I have a husband who has medical problems, so I take on the bulk of the 'man' chores around the house, not because he can't do them, but because it's only fair after he's worked 40+ hours that week to provide for us and deserves a 'break'. He in turn keeps up with the kiddos - that is my break.

I'm not in the greatest of physical health myself, but I don't make excuses, I make allowances and then find a way to accomplish what needs to be done anyways. This could entail 'ignoring' the fact that something is out of place or just working in spurts.

I don't judge others because their choices for their families are different than mine, because I believe we all have that freedom to decide. There's also this clause about let 'he [she] without fault cast the first stone' and 'don't judge lest ye be judged'.

My children have a 'minimal' number of toys to play with, thus ensuring I don't have closets and closets and shelves and shelves of things to constantly have to be cleaning up.

If I don't want my child to get into something I either put it out of their climbing reach or behind a latch that they're unable to master until they're older. If they happen to get into something they shouldn't then it was my fault for leaving it out where they could get it. It doesn't make them an evil child, they're just learning. If I'm at someone else's home I am *mostly* diligent about keeping a close eye on them if I know they're prone to getting into things.

If my child needs some comforting in the middle of the night, whether that means crawling in my bed, a rub on their back in their bed, or even a super late night movie and snack, that's fine. They do know just what they need, it's my job to nurture that.

I, ALONE, (with the partnership of my husband) am responsible for the behaviors and actions of my children, if they behave in an unacceptable manner you can best believe I will do whatever the situation calls for to correct the behavior. If I find one of my actions to redirect ...or reteach their actions does not work I try something else, until I find something that DOES work. Yes, I have spanked on occasion and proud of it.

I have also found that 'do unto others' is a great rule to go by, within reason, with children. If they like to hit, kick, bite, pull hair the only way they will really understand the implications is if they've experienced such things.

It is in NO WAY up to me to determine what is right for another family. This is what works for mine. If I decide that in the middle of the grocery store, when my child starts throwing a fit about being hungry or thirsty, to serve my child a snack or drink that I plan on purchasing and letting her eat/drink throughout the store, that's MY choice. I'd rather have a satisfied child than a screaming one. Other times I deem it necessary to just ignore their fit and let them scream as they see fit.

I cook 98% of our meals, at home. Dinner is served AT the dinner table, with EVERYONE at the table (on the nights Brian isn't working). We all sit at the table together, with the TV turned off or placed in such a way that it is not viewable from the dinner table.

If someone decides they don't want something that is served a small effort is made to get them to at least eat a few bites, otherwise a leftover substitution is made or they just do without.

If they leave the table hungry because they didn't want to eat that's on them, I refuse to force them to sit there and eat if they truly are not interested in eating...this to me is an ACCEPTABLE natural consequence. I will put their leftovers in a container, into the fridge, then will reheat it later if they decide they are hungry. Afterall, I'm not always hungry at mealtimes, why should I expect them to be ready to eat right then. But they will sit there until either myself or Brian are done eating.

I do NOT deny my children sweets and 'junk' food. I simply limit what is available and make sure to have better alternatives on hand, at all times.

Stories are read every night before bed and bedtime routines are modified to fit the individual child to ensure that everyone is able to get some sleep (especially now that sleeping is no longer painful for Mikaila).

Rules at home are fairly lax, but rules away from home are strictly enforced, learned, and respected.

I use 'real' plates, silverware, etc and wash them over and over again, unless of course I'm going to have more people over than I have 'real' plates. My kitchen may be hot, my AC may be broke, and my dishwasher may not exist, but I refuse to be so lazy as to not be willing...or have my child, who is learning lifelong skills...to do the dishes on a daily basis. In the very least I own a $10 box fan.

I send my child to public school, without his own packed lunch on most days.

I do laundry on an every 3rd day-ish basis, therefore no one HAS to have 500 articles of clothing to have strung out everywhere. I put a limit of roughly 10-15 of each item (unless you count my shoes). Whatever is not worn & loved or has been outgrown just I give away.

I don't 'ban' my children from knowing their families because we have a difference of opinion, but I will limit their interaction with ones who are physically, mentally, and/or emotionally abusive. This even holds true for the dead beat sperm donor. He IS allowed, per MY decision, to have two hours of court SUPERVISED visits on the second Saturday of each month. HE chooses not to take advantage of this, not me. It is up to me to teach my children how to be respectful of EVERYONE, not just those that kiss my ass or bend to my desires.

I vaccinate my children, on the pediatric recommended schedule, just like I was, my siblings were, and likely my parents, as well as at least my cousins were and their children - the ONLY ones to have anything mentally or physically wrong with them are the ones that are afflicted with ailments completely unrelated to anything supposedly caused by vaccines.

I also had both my living children via cesarean - the first one because the doctor became impatient with me being in there for a THIRD weekend to have him, then I didn't progress quick enough for him to be home for dinner. Second one because it just wasn't feasible to attempt to drive 3 hrs to the nearest hospital that allowed VBACs, and because I picked her birthdate she was born at 37w3d - weighed in at 8lbs 4.5oz, with me smoking my whole pregnancy (yea, not terribly proud of that, but its done and over with and if 8lbs+ is going to be considered a low-weight newborn, born early, then so be it!)

For all of these choices and more I am PROUD of my parenting job. What I feel works for me, or what I'm learning doesn't work for me doesn't hold true for everyone, but that's their choice. At the end of the day all that matters is that myself and my children are happy and healthy about the choices I make (with my husband's help) about how to raise children. We may not see eye to eye but I can RESPECT that and withhold rude judgment, because who knows...in a few years I may change my mind about some things.

I also felt the need to add some more....

This was a 'response' to someone ALWAYS HARSHLY judging others' parenting decisions.

THEN takes and acts completely calloused about a motorist who, yes, was not wearing his seatbelt, but was killed in a car wreck. Calling it a 'natural consequence' and such. Just kinda pushed me over the edge of keeping my mouth shut and just looking past her judgments.

I seriously pray that she doesn't wind up with such a 'natural consequence' of her own...say loses a child because she wasn't able to keep all 3 from bolting from her and ending up getting hit by a car in a parking lot. I mean, in that case that would be considered a natural consequence, right? She should of kept better control of what her children did.

Or because she refuses to take one of her children in for allergy testing because they break out in hives on a regular basis from a food of some sort, that she's been unable to absolutely pin down and eliminate from the diet, that child winds up going into shock and medical personnel are too long in coming to her aid and she loses her child over it. I mean, that would be a natural consequence, right?

Then her 'pet' names for her children are Thing 1, 2, & 3...while referring to Thing 2 (the one also always breaking out in hives) as an evil, naughty, retched being...a gal who only happens to be a couple months older than Mikaila...when in reality it could be that her behaviors are related to her allergies, where many of Mikaila's were related to her ears...or in the very least related to the fact she's TWO, almost three.

Then other instances where she brow beat folks over choosing to have their young daughter's ears pierced, then turns around a month or so later and pierces her own not even (then) 1 year old's ears.

Or goes on and on and on about how HORRIBLE it is to send your child to public school...and has now signed her own child up for public school.

Or she goes recently and gets in her own wreck because she didn't pay attention and pulled out in front of someone, putting the lives of her children at risk, as well as the other persons in the other vehicle in jeopardy. Regardless of her "superior" car seat rules, if the other car had been going a bit quicker or been a bigger vehicle, besides a 2 door car vs her mini van, it could of been a completely different story.

Just CONSISTENT bullshit ALL THE TIME because she's so much better than everyone else.

THERE...now I think I feel better having gotten all of that off my chest. ☺

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Its been a while.

This past week or so has been one that I hope I can get over soon. Just plain exhausting!

Mikeal came home from school sick. Thought it to be the flu since it's pretty thick in the area, I called the nurse, got her recommendations on it, followed all to a T. After not running a fever for a whole day I thought he was on the mend until he went to sleep, then his fever came back with a passion as well as severe respiratory distress...turned out he had tonsillitis. One shot to the butt and he was well enough to go back to school that Monday, after getting sick the Thursday before.

Mikaila had an evaluation done by the Early Intervention lady on Tuesday. Mikaila scored amazingly well in every area - except her speech. I take her back in tomorrow morning for a more in depth evaluation, plus will be trying to get her on the waiting list for Head Start in this area. I think it'll do her a great deal of good!

Brian got himself in at the free clinic in Grove on Thursday. He's set up to go have blood work done in the morning to test his thyroid levels, I'm quite confident that it'll come up that he does indeed have a thyroid problem. He'll also be getting his knee x-rayed & from that the doctors will try to determine if surgery is going to be needed to repair the damage done to his knee some 15 years ago, courtesy of his brother with a sledge hammer. The doctor did give him a medication for him to take in the meantime for his depression, but I took care of those because its the same exact script that was given to him right before he had a severe mental break and ended up in the hospital for 10 days while he was bounced on and off other medications - medication that proved to be of no benefit to him, but a $1500 script bill each month, plus about $300 a month in blood tests and doctor visits to make sure the meds weren't destroying his liver and such. I'm praying that the $4 thyroid med will replace all of that.

I bought some knitting looms and yard on Thursday. I've already made a scarf for Mikaila and Mikeal made a hat, originally for himself, but it's a bit small for him. It looks good on Mikaila though. I'll be done with Mikeal's scarf later this evening, I hope.

Mikaila has been doing wonderfully with her potty learning, however about the time she was done with diapers she figured out how to escape the pack-n-play and has yet to take a nap. A blessing in that she generally goes to bed about the same time as Mikeal...a curse in that many times she goes to sleep, then gets up a few hours later and its a PAIN IN THE NECK to get her back to sleep before daylight...making for a VERY tired momma!

I'll be posting pictures in a day or two of the kids' scarves that I've made, as well as other pictures that I've taken. I might even grace y'all with pictures of Brian's new toy - a 1982 Nissan 280Z. It has the T-tops, blah blah blah...pretty snazzy, just needs a good sanding down, then primered, some paint, new upholstery, and everything under the hood re-done. Basically its a piece of junk that will start, that after some work will apparently be worth something. Can't really complain though, it was free!

Also noteworthy-ish : My ex-mother-in-law contacted me about Mikeal - first time in over 4 years, at least...that's a whole post in itself that I'll get around to later. Another child support hearing is set for Wednesday. My ex-husband is a douché. But these details are going to be saved for another day or during a sleepless/stressful night.

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Butter - the New Cleaning Product

It seems to work quite PERFECTLY, if I must admit to it.

Seems in my pre-coffee stupor while making some breakfast I left the butter out on the counter...

Wanna see where this is going?

She was PISSED that I found out what she was up to, while I was in the bathroom...I swear she's on a mission to completely prove that I absolutely cannot even take a potty break...



The reason I say it works perfectly as a cleaning product - I had to scrub all of it with HOT soapy water - three times now, to get all the residue cleaned up....

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