Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Toilet Diaries...MKLI writing prompts

I'm doing a writing prompt from over at mamakatslosinit. (check out her badge above, and jump on over and take a look)

Yuck! Food poisoning:

I love Mexican food. Hell, who am I kidding? I love all food, but this is a post about eating mexican food. There were 2 whole mexican restaurants back in my little hometown in Va. Most of the time we went to a certain one because we liked the way the layout was. But just to change it up a little, we decided to try the other one on this particular night.

By we, I mean my 2nd husband, my son (who was 13 at the time),and my ex's 2 small daughters (2 and barely 4). All of us loved the food except for the girls, so we ate our taco salads, chilupas, and enchilados while the girls ate something like a cheeseburger and fries from the kids menu. It took us about an hour to get our food and eat. We have a 35 minute ride home through a VERY rural area. On this drive home a sudden pain hits me, and I almost shriek from the shock. I realize that I am LITERALLY on the verge of crapping my pants. I was driving and almost slid the van to the side of the road in haste to make it to the bathroom because I WAS. NOT. GOING. TO. CRAP. MY. PANTS at 29 years old.  My son and ex were both laughing as I feebly climbed back into the van, the passenger side, because I was too weak from the sudden and violent, 5 minutes of emptying what I thought must have been all the contents within my stomach. (key word here is thought). My husband drives for about 7 or 8 minutes and suddenly does an almost identical move with the van...hops out and runs into the woods and returns a few minutes later. By this time all 3 kids are getting restless due to the extra stops. By this time I think I'm completely over it, so I'm driving again. I made it about another 8 or 9 minutes when my son yells, "MOM!! STOP! I'M SICK!", and for once I didn't do the "Are you sure? Can't you wait a second?" because I know he's serious. Now I'm sitting there worrying about the 2 and 4 year old getting sick ...because I don't want them to feel this way? because they're to precious to suffer through this? Noooo....it was because I knew they would use the bathroom in their pants, and since both were potty trained I would have a mess to clean up. Also, I didn't want them to feel this way.

By this point my ex and son were NOT laughing at me...hah!

Anyway...while sitting and waiting for my son to return, the feeling hit me AGAIN! and my ex AGAIN! That stop took about 10-15 minutes. Finally when we were all back in the car, I said, "I'm NOT stopping for anyone or anything because we'll never get home at this rate. I made record time from that point on and got us all home in one piece. We took turns in the ONE bathroom we had for the rest of the night. Thank god the girls weren't effected. We decided that it was something wrong with the cheese dip we ordered  since that was what all 3 of us ate that the girls didn't eat.

It was a long while before we had the stomach for mexican food again.

P.S. when you're on a rural road with no houses or stores and  you have to make a decision that you aren't comfortable with...look at it this way....it's all bio-degradable and good for the ecosystem. Though maybe not so good for the image you present to those reading your blog.

P.S.S. We all have our teeth, we don't wear bibs, carry shotguns on our laps in the car,  have chickens in our kitchen, and we're not related to The Clampets'...Not that there's anything wrong with those things...just saying.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Take 10 Deep breathes and Call Me in the Morning

I've been feeling happy the last few days. You'd think that I'd feel happy about that and not be bitching about it right? But no! This happiness has the nervousenergylikeapuppy feeling to it. In the past I know I've felt really good and energetic for a few days, or maybe even weeks, and then WHAM! I get knocked right on my ass.

My psychiatrist has only saw the depressed side of me, so when I went into her office a few days ago she was really happy that I was FINALLY smiling. I was FINALLY in school. I had FINALLY quit taking all the bs Scrooge was trying to hand out to me. How could I tell her that even though I feel like smiling and am smiling...my smile feels fake? THAT might sound crazy. God forbid I sound crazy to my shrink. (Isn't that kinda like cleaning before the cleaning person gets to your house because you don't want them to see your mess?)

She was even talking about tapering me off my meds around the end of the year. THAT SCARES THE HELL OUT OF ME!!!!! I don't want to be depressed. I want to be normal. I don't want to depend on pills. I don't want to try to live without the pills.

O.K. breathe slowly and deeply Sister...it's gonna be all right. count to 10 and just breathe.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Teacher Teacher...MKLI writing prompts

In response to a writing prompt over at Mamakatslosinit(see badge above)I'm going to write about a time that I felt I was treated unfairly by a teacher.

Before I throw this teacher under the bus I guess I'll give her the benefit of the doubt that I may have not been the most motivated student back in 1988, BUT I did do what was required of me (barely), and I was NEVER disrespectful to her.

Let's begin:

I lived in a small town in Virginia back in 1988.  When my senior year began, I was about a week shy of being 6 months pregnant. I had just told my dad about 2 weeks earlier. At this point, due to morning sickness I had lost some fat and only gained about 7 lbs. I was glad I wasn't going to be showing until a few weeks into the school year because I was nervous about the response I was going to get from friends/classmates.

I went into labor during the early morning hours of what would have been my 3rd day of school. I gave birth to my son at 25 weeks. The next week or so was filled with  worrying about whether or not my son was going to live. I had been to the hospital and staying everyday. I decided to go back to school beginning the 3rd week of school. I knew I'd had a lot of catching up to do, but I figured I could do that while visiting with my son in the hours after school. There wasn't really an option for homeschooling back then unless you went through a lot of red tape through the school board to get approval, so I hadn't done any work while out. My guidance counselor said I could come by and get some of my assignments from my teachers to do at home to get caught up some before trying to come back to class.

One morning, I went to the school and my guidance counselor told me to go see all my teachers and ask them for make-up assignments. I assumed that she had already filled them in, so they would have the assignments ready for me to pick up. I realized after talking with my teachers from the 1st two classes that this wasn't the case. They were both shocked to learn that I had had a baby because they didn't notice I was pregnant. I had to explain that he was premature and I wasn't really showing etc... They were really nice and told me they were glad I had decided to come back and to come pick up my assignments the following morning. When I made it to my 3rd class I knocked on the door. I was expecting about the same response. When she stepped into the hallway I explained that the guidance counselor had sent me up to get my make-up assignments and that I could pick them up another day...whenever she thought she would have time to get them to me. This teacher launched into me about how do I think I could waltz in and interrupt her class after being absent for 2 weeks and think she was suppose to just stop what she was doing to accomodate me? ?????  Then she told me not so nicely that I could just come right back after school was over and copy my assignments down. Now that idea would have been fine with me IF she had just said that to begin with AND not said it with such a hateful attitude.

I felt so humiliated and upset that I walked right out of school and never returned. I thought about it but I felt self-concious and worried that she would say something like that again..maybe in front of other students.(Back then teachers had a little more freedom and authority to talk to students without having to worry about being sued or fired.) When my dad asked me about how the day went I was too embarassed to tell him what happened. I guess, deep down, I felt like I deserved that treatment for getting pregnant at 16/17 and putting my dad through that. I told him that I felt there was just too much work for me to do to catch up, and I thought it would be better to return the following year.

I know I am responsible for my own actions...even back then. However, I can't help but feel a little bitter toward that teacher for treating me that way when she didn't even know what was going on. I think she would probably still be in her late 50's or early 60's. I've often thought about contacting the school and seeing if she still teaches there. I thought about sending her a letter (nothing nasty) to let her know how she embarassed me, and how she could have been a little more kind. At the very least she could have said, "could you return this afternoon so we could discuss it?"

Whenever I think about it I still feel how I felt that day standing there. Now instead of feeling embarassed I feel angry at her for treating me--another human being--that way.

Friday, September 16, 2011

One Old Chair...MKLI writing prompts

MAMAKATSLOSINIT WRITING PROMPTS: Describe your favorite piece of furniture. What kind of memories are associated with it?"</b></div>

So my favorite piece of furniture would be an old, wooden, kitchen chair that came from a set that my grandparents had. My first memories of the chairs are from when I was about 2 or 3 years old I think. I would turn them upside down and get inside the legs and pretend they were a car. I would line them up and make my grandfather sit in one and we would play "train". I have several pictures of different family members (most of them gone now) sitting in one of the chairs during some family get togethers.

My grandfather was blind as long as I can remember. After they got a new set of chairs my grandfather kept one of the older ones sitting outside at the corner of their house. He would spend hours sitting out there with his dog. Even after my grandfather passed away the chair sat out there empty, and his dog would sit right there beside it just like he always did until he also died a year or so later. I now have that chair. It's seen better days, but it gets a spot right in the front room of my house. My grandfather's walking cane, that was carved by my dad, sits right there leaned up against the chair.

I can almost see my grandfather as he sat in that chair all those years ago.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Locked Out....MKLI writing prompts

This post is inspired by a prompt over at Mamakatslosinit. See her badge up top there? Go check her out. Participate. Get one of those pretty badges all your own.

A time I was locked out:

Well, this is easy since I'm always locking myself out of my car. The emergency roadside call center for my insurance and the local locksmith they usually call to unlock cars know me by name, You Again?...I'm pretty sure of that anyway.

But THIS time I got locked out was no fault of my own. Well, unless you don't consider trusting an almost 3 year old who just learned to lock a door as being my fault. We lived in an apartment at the time. Zindie knew she's not suppose to mess with ANY doors, but she'd been watching us flip the little bar lock over the latch, that allows the door to only open a little bit. I was there by myself one day and since we lived right on the corner, ground floor apartment and we parked our car like 5 feet from the door I decided to run outside to get something from the car without even considering a need to lock the apartment door behind me (which would have forced me to take the keys obviously). I just unlocked the car by pushing the button on the remote, hung the keys back in place and walked out to the car. As I was walking back into the apartment I almost broke my nose because--SOMEHOW-- the metal door latch was flipped over the latch.

This is impossible to do without physically reaching up to flip it over. Then with the 3 inch crack in the door I could hear Zindie giggling and realized what had happened. I thought " what the FUCK am I going to do now?? I was scared that Zindie wouldn't have enough sense to unlock the door to let me in before Scrooge came back. I certainly didn't want to hear what HE was going to say. At first I tried sweet talking her into climbing back on the couch and unlocking the door. Using as simple language as possible hoping she'd understand. After a few minutes of hot Florida sun and Scrooge due back any minute, I began to get a little more...um insistent as in...."Little Girl...you had better get over here and unlock this door right NOW"  Of course, since I almost had to say it at a whisper to avoid the neighbors hearing me it was pretty much non-effective. That day I broke my promise to never tell a lie to my child if possible. I used the one thing that would get her to open the door if she could figure out how to. I closed the door and snatched the neighbors little wind chime hanging by the door and shook it a few times and returned it. I opened the door back up to a quiet room with no giggling. I knew this was a good sign that she had heard the bells. I told my almost 3 year old that Santa was here to see her, and she had better come outside right now if she wanted to see him. It took about 20 seconds for the door to slam and I could hear the latch being flipped back. I tried the door and great bejeezus it opened!

I've never went outside without my keys after that day.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

NFL is recruting fans a little younger these days

I like to think that my kids actually need me. Guess I was wrong. As I was leaving tonight, Zavie was going to get an extra few minutes before bedtime to watch a few minutes of the first NY Jets' game of the season. He says "ok..you can go mom....come back in the morning...don't forget your bag." He may as well have said, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."  REALLY? You'd think I could get a little gratitude for changing shitty diapers for the first 2 1/2 years of his life, huh?

I expected a few more years before he starts developing "football brain" around this time of year. I guess next week he'll be asking me to grab him a beer from the fridge...or maybe he'll go for the hard stuff and ask for some chocolate milk?

Friday, September 9, 2011

9 11

On September 11, 2001 I was working at a place in Virginia that made windows. This place employed around 1700 people on three different shifts. Even on holidays there was someone working because this company just never shut down for ANYTHING.

This particular morning was actually really good because we'd finally gotten a break from the summer heat. It was nice and sunny, but the temperature wasn't overly warm, with a nice breeze blowing through the windows and the doors at the loading dock. It was a few minutes before our first morning break at 9:00 a.m. As I was picking up the parts I had ordered earlier a co-worker told me that a plane had just hit one of the towers at the world trade center...he had heard it announced over the radio. We speculated about how that could happen, what kind of plane it may have been, the extent of damage, etc. We had no Tv of course and could only rely on radio reports which at the time didn't offer a whole lot of coverage since it seemed like a freak accident in those first few minutes. Then as we were talking and listening we heard the news of another plane crashing into the other tower, and reports about the possibility of it being some type of terrorist attack. Of course, during break everyone was listening to the radios reports wondering what's happening. I had a hard time imagining the devastation because we were only getting radio reports. Work slowly resumed but not as it normally would. People were too busy listening for any details about what was happening. Then the Pentagon was hit by a plane, and later another plane was reported to have crashed possibly on it's way to Washington. By this time, we had learned the South Tower had collapsed, and a few minutes later the North Tower begins to collapse. Reports were coming in about school closings and students being sent home. My aunt Barb called to say she was on her way to pick up my son, Tommy, from school since she could get there before I could. Then around 10:45 our Human Resources Dept. called a company wide meeting in which all the employees had to gather outside in the parking lot. There we received in more detail some reports about what was going on all along the east coast. We were told the decision had been made to stop all operations for our shift and all other shifts for the day. We were advised to listen to radio/tc announcements concerning plans for continuing work the next day. Then there was a prayer given for the nation, especially for those directly involved in the devastation. If there were any doubts as to the severity of what was happening....this vanished any of those doubts and made it seem very real. The idea that they would stop production completely was shocking enough to make us all see the severity of it.

Until I got home and was able to see it on the TV I had not really been able to imagine the destruction and chaos that was happening in New York, Washington, and surrounding areas.

All air craft had been grounded with the No-Fly order in place. That evening as I sat outside thinking I felt an overwhelming sense of shock and sadness because I realized that this was the first time since being a little girl that I couldn't look into the sky and see smoke tails left by passing planes messing up the nice cloudless, blue sky. It was the first time I wished I could see them zig-zagging across the sky because that would've meant that the events of the last 24 hours hadn't happened. My feelings of safety for myself and my family wouldn't have been washed away in such a short period of time. I felt mad, sad, scared, disbelieving within those first few hours and days. Then above it all I felt proud in the way people were coming together as one to help and support each other in a way I had certainly never seen on such a large scale before.

I can't imagine having been in New York or Washington or having family on one of those flights or locations on that terrible day. I do know that it changed me forever...in some ways for good and some for bad. I'm not a religious person anymore, but I do consider myself spiritual. I hope with all that's in me that, as much as possible, those who suffered loss of family and friends that day can mostly remember the love and good memories of those they lost instead of the terrible pain of that day and the days that followed.

Thursday, September 8, 2011


I can't, for the life of me, figure out how to have a peaceful co-existence with Scrooge. I wanted to write a post. But I just hurt too much emotionally to think about writing. I am struggling to keep the depression and anxiety at bay because I have class all day today. I am tired. Tired of trying. Tired of caring. Tired of wanting. Tired of Scrooge's complaints and negativity. Tired................

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Shoving Tales...MKLI writing prompts

Joining in Mamakat's "Pretty Much World Famous Writer's Workshop' today over at mamakatslosint dot com. (see badge above)

The prompt I chose this week was to write about someone I shoved. Here goes...

I lived in the same house as my grandfather until he died when I was 10 years old. I loved my "Pa." He was my best friend in the whole world. I spent most of my summer days and evenings hanging out with him. We had amazing adventures in "far away lands". I caught lightning bugs while he put them in a jar for me. He told the most awesome stories that I wish I had recorded. When I was around five I always begged him to let me try chewing tobacco. He didn't chew himself, but he snagged some from one of my uncles and took me to our "magic circle" where we would always make up stories and adventures. He gave me a BIG piece a told me to put it all in my mouth and chew as hard and fast as I could without stopping. I listened to him of course. If I was older I would've noticed the little smirk on his face as he was telling me this. After about 1 minute of chewing, and forgetting to spit, I started feeling really sick, but I couldn't let him know that after I had begged so much. He said, "you got kinda quiet all of a sudden....how ya feeling?" I had to admit that I was sick and IMMEDIATELY got rid of all the lunch and breakfast I'd had earlier. I lay around on the grass, with the world spinning, while he was chuckling saying "I guess your tobacco chewing days are over, huh?' He was right I never asked again.

He was blind since before I was born. I would make him feel my face because I was sad/scared that he didn't know what I looked like. I was amazed that he could manage to get ME lost in the woods and make his way back home just fine if he went out by himself.

He was a hero to me. The sun rose and set when he woke up, so when my cousin M, who was almost a year younger than me at 8, called him an "old blind man" because he was mad and wanted to get me angry I didn't take it so well. I shoved him...or maybe it was closer to shoving him with a balled up fist right in the eye. I got into so much trouble for that one, but I still feel justified in doing it. Never once back then, or even now, would I apologize even though I know it was the wrong thing to do.

Oh well...he never made THAT mistake again in the many disagreements we had in years to follow. Don't get me wrong...he was like a little brother, but he learned to never cross that line...EVER.

DON"T..... F*^k...WITH. MY. HERO!

p.s. "M" I am almost sorry I shoved/hit you.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Life Updates

About a month ago I was struggling with the decision of whether or not I should let Scrooge have primary custody. I cried, cursed, doubted, second guessed every time I would  make a decision. FInally, for a trial period, I agreed to let Scrooge have primary custody of the kids to avoid having a big court battle. Right now the situation is this: On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I stay with the kids from the time they wake up until the time they go to sleep while Scrooge is at school. He's gone from the house during this time. Sometimes I'll be going over for half a day on either Saturday or Sunday. Then he has them the rest of the time. This works out so that I have them almost half of the time, and he does too, and the kids are not uprooted and have to go to another home for a day or so. This seems to be working well for all of us. The kids see both of us equally. They get to stay in the home they're use to. I have plenty of time with them and time to do my classes since all my classes are on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This gives me a couple extra days to do other things like study, laundry, etc.. Scrooge has time for his classes and studying, and doesn't have to feel like he's failing his kids by not being with them. 

Instead of renting an apartment on my own, I decided to rent a room from someone so I could find a place within a few minutes of my kids. I found a room with a couple who is VERY clean, VERY quiet, and VERY nice. There are 2 other women renting a room here also. It's been a great arrangement so far. The best thing here is that along with a gym and free exercise classes (zumba, aqua zumba, pilates, yoga, weight training, step, aqua fitness) they have a great playground area and a small waterslide and kids interactive splash park that I can bring the kids to anytime for free...and they LOVE IT. Of course I have visions of me getting so tone and fit in these free exercise classes, but most of them are during the hours I'm with the kids or at school. I have 1 day a week to take advantage of the gym or the classes. Too bad.

School has started, and it's awesome. I love it! I wish I would have liked it this much when I was a teenager.