35...and counting

So tomorrow is my birthday.  Well according to my mother; tomorrow at 11:19PM is my birthday.  She never acknowledges it until the minute of my birth.  I was kind of excited, because I feel like 35 is a milestone...but as the day has gotten closer, I'm like, a milestone of what?  Babies, Bills, and Burdens?

I praised Him in the car this afternoon listening to "I am God".  That is so my song.  And as I listened to it; it reminded me that I am SO blessed to be alive, so blessed to have what and who I have, and that whatever I DON'T have is simply not meant for me.  For He's my provider, He'll fight my battles, He'll give me PEACE.  So marinating on that, I think that for me, making 35 is besides being a blessing in and of itself because I have SO many friends who did not make it here---but its a blessing and its a milestone that I've reached that age and stage where I have blessings and peace.  I feel good about who and what I am.  I feel proud of my children, to the point of tears some days. I have rich, real relationships.  I have a nice roof over my head.  I have a brand new car.  I'm not begging for money on the street.  I have been at the same job that I (mostly) enjoy for years. I have opportunity for education that I continue to take advantage of.  I have simply awesome parents, mother AND father.  I have beautiful, caring sisters.  I have hundreds of thousands of sorority sisters.  And right now; I have pink Moscato in my hand :))

I am so BLESSED.  ABUNDANTLY blessed.  I do not take that for granted.  And the blessings allow me peace.  I am at peace with myself.  With those around me.  With my station in life.  With what I do have and what I don't have.  I'm even at peace with my paycheck; although it could ALWAYS be bigger.  I feel like I've lived a good life and made positive contributions.

But I also feel like crossing this threshold takes me from young adult to a for REAL grown ass woman.  Now when I say it; I can say it with conviction.  LOL.

So as I darken the doorstep of 35 tomorrow; I will do brilliantly and maybe even with some flair.  Gotta show my daughters that 35 isn't "old" its just another age :)

Toodles!

Day 4: Leaves

Walking around downtown Chi near the Loyola campus...the leaves on this tree struck me!

Day 3: Happiness

Happiness is walking through downtown Oak Park...and seeing my fav Five Guys :))

Day 2: Smile

This is the smile (well, one of 2 smiles) that makes my WHOLE day....

Day 1: Favorite Food

Bearing in mind that I'm not actually EATING this today since ya know, this ratchet Weight Watchers...but this IS my favorite "food" if you will.....*slurrrrrrp*

30 Day Photo Challenge: Gratitude

So some folks I know and I decided to try this 30 day photo challenge starting today.  Seems like a fun way for me to have to pay attention, so I figured I'd let you all see what I come up with each day!  Hopefully I stay in all 30 days and don't pull my adult ADD tricks and lose interest!  If you want to join in; go right ahead!!!

The Hoodest Ish I Ever Wrote

So remember Tupac's song; Against All Odds, and he opened the verse with "this be the realest shit I ever wrote"?  Well; I've been hearing a version of this in my head when thinking about this blog entry.  But instead of "realest ish" this is the "hoodest ish".

So my youngest daughter's birthday is Tuesday, yippee for 4!  So her birthday party is this weekend.  I love birthday parties for my kids; love planning them, executing them, love the smiles on their faces and making them feel special.  However, this year's party arrives with trepidation because I am still having flashbacks from LAST year's party.

First of all she insisted on having her party at Chuck E. Cheese.  Yes the germ magnet, smells like feet, good ass pizza, CEC. Although I loathed this idea; this was the first time she had input into her party so I acquiesced.  I sent out Dora invites to her classroom and some of my friends with children, and her dad said he would bring her older siblings.

On the day of the party we arrive with balloons, cameras, cakes, everything we need to throw a good party.  The waitress comes over to ask what toppings we want on our pizzas, what kind of drinks, and her dad calls to say he's almost there.  Ok cool.  So my sisters and I take her around to the various games, and I come back to wait on the tokens to be doled out so I can give them to the guests as they arrive.  All of a sudden her dad comes walking in with his mother, brother, 2 sisters, and sister in law.  Between the five adults they bring in her 2 sisters and SEVEN additional children ranging from 6 months old to 10.  Now I am standing here trying not to let my jaw fall to the ground as his mother walks up to hug me, because this mofo just brought FOURTEEN FUGGING PEOPLE to my child's birthday party with no notice!!!!!  Before I can say anything; the tokens disappear and they are gone to find my daughter.  My sister has to hunch down over the table to protect the few tokens that they missed.

Fortunately my ex goes and buys more tokens to replace the 100 tokens his family just scooped.  Ok; I'm not boiling, but my stress level has increased by bounds and leaps.  They are running around, dropped various jackets and bags on the table, you can't find anything--chaos is setting in.  But the kids are having fun; even the baby dressed in a diaper and t-shirt drinking Kool-Aid out of a bottle in October 50 degree weather.  Keeping it moving...

Pizza comes, now because these FOURTEEN extra people came, I let the adults know that the pizza is for the kids, and they can have more pizza when it comes out.  Before the waitress and I can serve all the kids; the pizza is gone.  Mofos sitting at the other end of the table mouths full.  GROWN ASS MEN.  While 2 year olds have no food.  Now I'm getting up to 10.  So the BABIES had to wait for more pizza, I also ordered wings and other things to feed the natives.

Ok; so babies now have their pizza.  Because the table we originally had set for 10 kids is TEEMING with people, the waitress and I move to an adjoining table to set up my baby's Dora birthday cake.  I carefully place her candles and we move her cake to the table in front of her...do you know one of the BAK my ex brought (Bad Ass Kids for those of you who don't know) sticks her damn HAND in my child's BEAUTIFUL cake?!  Babeeeeee, it was on.  I snapped, I said "someone come get her NOW!!!!!"  So her dad, my ex's brother, grabbed her up.  Well then one of the other BAK, as soon as my baby blows her candles out, takes Dora and Diego off the cake.  Well, I took those shyts right back.  Yep; I snatch from kids.  Judge me.  I snatched them right out of their hands and told them they were my daughter's.  Period, point blank.  There was NOT A CRUMB of cake left.  I ordered enough cake for 10 kids and adults.  Not for all of Altgeld fricking Gardens.  The BAK running around THROWING cake on the floor; SPIKING it, as if they were on a football field!!!  I was absolutely mortified!  The waitress just kept throwing me the "pity" face, she could tell I was frazzled...hell, I kept having to order food!!!

Then to top the night off; in the midst of my sweating and confusion; I give the waitress my debit card to settle the bill.  Cause I'm ret to GO.  She goes and is gone.  And gone.  Then a fight breaks out by the Skee-ball.  Apparently a Hispanic father got into with a Black mama and some slurs were thrown along with some punches.  Over Skee-ball? Mmmkay.  Not that serious; but at any rate, the Villa Park police had to come.  So as I'm sitting waiting on my card and bill to return; I watch the police storm in with SWAT gear LOL, and wonder when the FLUCK am I getting out of the hell I am residing in.

The manager comes over to apologize profusely.  For what?  Taking so damn long?  No; for LOSING my debit card!!!!!!!  She said she must have put it down in the skirmish with the race riot by Skee-ball and she's been through the garbage; and in 17 years of working at Chuck E Cheese she's never lost a card.  They had reviewed the tape and errything.  Sooo the kicker?

The party was free.  All that food I had to order for those ninjas?  All the tokens we had to keep requesting?  All the soda for the thirstiest mofos on this side of the Mississippi? FREE.99.

Well; I guess tolerating being an extra in Madea's Family Reunion at Chuck E Cheese paid off.

But um, I'm having bouncers at this year's party.

Now you've read the Hoodest Ish I Ever Wrote.

Toodles!

Writer's Block

So all I can really do today is sit on pins and needles waiting for the iOS5 update to come out.  Yeah; I could be working, hawking Avon, or taking care of my kids---but I prefer to refresh my innernets every 5 minutes waiting for someone to say its released.

I could be reading my many chapters for class since I got a---B!---on my midterm, but I don't feel like doing that either.

I could be figuring out what to feed my kids for dinner, but I won't.

So we'll call it writers' block.

Are Common and Serena still together? If not; I need to find his mama and become her bestie cause he is FOINE.

My Essence with Idris has not arrived yet, they better hurry up before I get an attitude.

So glad I have girls; they are so much fun to dress.  Boys clothes are boring as hell.  I love dresses and sequins and shoes and hairstyles....I just don't like crying, and puberty, and having to carry a pistol to keep boys away.

Speaking of pistol; I need to go to the gun range.

Why do people act like their job is more high brow than it is?  Come on dude.  We know you're a damn receptionist, calling it a hospitality engineer won't change that.  Own your isht.

If you're unemployed, are you supposed to go on vacation? This is a quandry that's been bothering me for some years now.

Speaking of unemployed, where'd Kwame Kilpatrick go now that he's got his free?

I know a lot of broads that would be more pleasant to be around if they got some penile intervention.  In about 1...2....3...I'm going to send them an email telling them as much.

I know some other broads that need LESS.  Stop letting every dude run up in that, you are too damn old, disease is too damn prevalent, and old hoes are never a good look.  Prime hoe age is between 17-22.  I just helped somebody's mama.

When am I going to hit the damn Lotto? I'm sick of this working BS...

I either need a winning Powerball ticket or a dying old man....get at me....

*sigh* I guess, I suppose I'll go back to focusing on the OTHER things I need to do today....and avoid this writer's block.  Hey; everyone is due a little randomness every now and again.....

Not a good food day :(

So its been awhile; heyyyyyy ya'll.

So part of my summer involved this RATCHET sleep study...I have obstructional sleep apnea; which means I'm not supposed to sleep on my back or I stop breathing. Ok; big deal. The IMPORTANT part is when I weighed in; I saw a number I've NEVER seen in 34 years of life, not even when I was pregnant.

Stopped me in my damn tracks.

So I promptly came home; fired up my Weight Watchers and readapted to the plan, PointsPlus. I've been doing well so far; 2 weeks in I'm down 4.6 lbs, that's nothing to sneeze at. I mean just 20 more to 10% loss and ONE HUNDRED more to goal! (trying to be positive).

I've been drinking Coke Zero, fruit and yogurt parfaits, water, taking a multivitamin, working out, less fried chicken and mac and cheese, planning my meals...I've been a GOOD girl for 2 whoooole weeks.

But today. THIS day. Was not a good food day.

It started off innocently enough, with hotcakes and sausage from McDonalds---with a water of course. Then it progressed to a Super Steak from Great Steak. With Fries. And Cheese Sauce.

The nail in the coffin? The Oreo McFlurry I had for dinner.

Someone just told me; "tomorrow is another day". Yeah; it is. I have to remember that...or remember Scarlet took a tumble could be me if I don't get this shit under control....*roll that beautiful bean footage*

BWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....gets me everytime!!! ROFLMAOOOO....the table would probably drop dead if I got my fat azz up there too...(I wonder if that child is still on the floor? LOL)

Toodles!

Friends...how many of us have them?

This song is one of the most pure songs about friendship out there...."and if you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew; you would see the biggest gift would be from me and the card attached would say, 'thank you for being a friend' "Love it.

I have been thinking a lot about the importance of lasting friendship lately, in particular as it relates to my daughter. My oldest is a rising 5th grader and we just moved. I was really committed to making sure we stayed in the same town and communicated with the school district to make sure she could stay at the same school even if we moved within the district. Why? Because she has done really well in her present school, and I would not DREAM of moving her, her last year of grade school to a different school and peer group.

She has been fortunate to find really good friends, girls she's known since Kindergarten. They are thick as thieves, they Gchat, email, have playdates, get in fights, do all the things you do at that age. They "get" her and and she "gets" them as well. They have her back. When she's down, they lift her up and she tries to be a positive source for them as well. They have sleepovers, and go to D&B together, and had their first Benihana experience together. LOL. They love each other. One of her friends has an older sister who graduated from high school this year, and we saw her and her best friend since 4th grade off to prom. They have been the gruesome twosome since they were 8 and are now going to colleges across the street from each other in Atlanta. They have gone through their formative years knowing at the beginning and end of each day, triumph, and challenge they had someone who had their BACK.

That is what friendship is. And that is what I see growing with my daughter and her friends, and that is what I have with MY friends. It brings tears to my eyes to watch true friendship blossom. So many people these days are caught up in the exterior, the material, the silly---even children. I know so many people who don't have friends, or at least don't have TRUE friends. I feel blessed to have my down like four flat tires friends in my life. And I pray the same for my children. So if that means we live in a little apartment in our town instead of buying a sprawling mini-mansion in another town or even state; then so be it.

I want to give my daughter the opportunity, if I can, to know and feel what the above song means. Because Whodini said it best, "Friends, how many of us have them?"

Rod Blagojevich

Needs to STFU. He's TWEETING? Really?! ROFLMAOOOOOOO....I had a whole 'nother blog subject; but this fool just messed up my writing mode.

"its a terrible injustice" Maybe you should have thought about THAT before you tried to withhold Medicaid enhanced payments from my child's hospital. Prick.

I hate politicians of all varieties at this point in my evolution. Between Michelle Bachbullshitmann running for President, the Weiner's weiner, and Nancy full of caca Pelosi, I'm over ALL of them.

I don't care how Blago tells his kids; I don't care how much time he gets, I'm just over politics as usual....fugg him.

I'm supposed to be packing

But instead; its 12:30am and I am up watching an Oprah repeat. I hate moving, despise it. Not because I'm sentimental; but more so lazy. I am a creature of habit and I hate change. So moving a year from my last move is NOT in my range of normal behavior. But my landlord lost my place; so I have to go.

I think my master plan is to stay at this place for 2 years, then purchase. By then I will be done with school; my youngest will be going to Kindergarten so I can have that money available to pay these wretched taxes. Home ownership frightens the hell out of me, but I want the stability that comes with owning my ish...and being able to throw wild parties without repercussions!!! LOL (soo not me).

I'm excited about this move though; the kids will have a backyard, a porch swing. Nice quiet neighborhood, lots of kids. Right by the expressway; so I don't have to fight traffic to go everywhere.

I'm just not excited about this horrid packing. I got a good portion done. Tomorrow I will work on cleaning out the refrigerator and finishing the kitchen. Wednesday will be my room, the linen closet, and the GARAGE. *cue scary music*.

I see.....a lot of shit getting thrown out.

Toodles!

Couple things about me...

I am not a father, do not wish my Happy Father's Day. That isht is disrespectful to the ACTUAL fathers in my and my children's lives. Keep your issues with you.

I don't acknowledge important news via social media from my friends. If you are engaged, having a baby, or have a new job; I expect a phone call or at minimum an email.

I actually call my friends for their birthdays; and I expect the same.

Inviting me to a shower via evite is a sure way to get a decline.

I am reciprocal...some call it tit for tat...if you don't respond in kind; you'll end up with crickets coming from my end. We'll still be cool though.

I am deeply in love with southern drawls on men. *slurrrp*

I really prefer being by myself to being in a relationship at this point in my life...

I have night blindness.

If you don't know this much about me already; you are not my friend and I already know that

Facebook has made everyone some lazy asses.

I am a baby mama.

Yes; I hate the term...but since I'm not delusional to think most people will call me anything else, I will accept that and whatever else anyone wants to deem me.

Single mother. Baby Mama. Unwed mother. The list goes on.

But this isn't about what I'm called or even what I consider myself. This blog is a much needed reminder that at the beginning AND end of the day--I do what is required for my children. Without complaint. Without reward. I just DO it. And what burns me more than just about anything on this earth are people who don't do it, yet speak as if its from a place of knowledge about what I, and women like ME go through.

I've said before; I could have married my oldest daughter's father. I could have, but we'd certainly be divorced, and I'd probably have been beaten to death by now to boot. I have no regrets about being a single mother at all. In fact, I prefer it most days. I am the decider if you will. I don't have to run shit past anyone, I don't have to wait for Daddy to get home, I don't have to cook anything more taxing than meals than a 10 and 3 year old want. LOL.

But at the same time...this is MY shit. Yeah; they have fathers...but I'M the one who pays the bills. I'm the one who wipes the asses. I'm the one who holds their heads in the toilet when they are vomiting. I'm the one who drops them off, picks them up, takes them to gymnastics, doctors, library, ice skating, parades, Girl Scouts, field trips. I'm the one who is up in the middle of the night when they have nightmares. I'm the one that is called when they are sick at school. I'm the one who has to arrange a babysitter to make a Costco run. I'm the one who has to shop at Costco!! I'm the one who has to worry about the values I'm instilling, because I observe them daily, 24 hours a day to measure whether or not those values are sticking. I'm the one who shops for clothes and has to consider whether its a shorts day or a pants day...and whether to wear socks or anklets...and whether the hair should be up or down. I'm the one checking the teeth after they are brushed. I'm the one brushing teeth. I'm the one teaching them how to wash themselves and how to wash dishes. I'm the one helping with research projects and identifying the alphabet. I do this all day, every day. This is what I'm supposed to do. And did I mention I get $150 in child support every few months??? LOL. I do all of this on MY 4 job-having dime.

So when mofos jump out the woodwork and act like is easy, or like I'm not doing all that I'm supposed to, or like they KNOW...it gets my back up. If you think its easy, if you think its no biggie, its only because I don't let you know what it REALLY is, because its my job. But when you come out of your face acting like you can do it, oh, you want them for 2 hours---that is NOT parenting. You want your monthly visit---not parenting.

And then I know I get called names. I've been called selfish. A bitch. How about I don't care? What you won't call me is a neglectful mother. My kids are my first priority. I don't give a damn about your feelings and your need to stunt, or pretend like these beautiful, smart, personable children are the result of your daily interaction with them--because they aren't. I ALWAYS think of them first. People, including their fathers, that don't wake up with these children as their first priority EVERY DAY---not just when they are in their possession, or when they call on the phone, or the few times the money is paid--don't get a seat at the decision making table. You coach from the booth, I coach on the sidelines. From the booth you get the luxury of being able to sit up there loftily, and see the sum total of the game. From the sidelines, I see the hurt, the dirt, I get hit too sometimes. I'm not sitting in air conditioning with headsets on. I'm screaming and yelling and on their level WITH them.

Now; if you are a coach on the sidelines with the other parent, then that is great. But I don't know many people that are "in" it 50% like that. If you are; then that is awesome for you and the child.

But if you're not; and that burden is falling a little or a lot heavier on the other parent-- next time you fix your mouth to talk about the "baby mama"--yours or your man's, check to make sure you aren't coaching from the booth trying to tell the head coach about shit you just don't know.

Delayed but not denied

So I've been absent lately. I apologize. I started yet another graduate program and its more challenging that I bargained for. I just work, mother, study, and watch reality tv. Hey; at least I can be honest about my priorities!

At any rate; I had a thought occur to me earlier tonight. That a relationship I prayed over for many years is officially over. Its been over, but I fully, wholly accept its demise at this point. And I'm okay with it.

This week has been a week full of blessings, financial blessings, stability blessings, relationship blessings---but this, this failed relationship sticks in my craw.

But what occurred to me today was this---"delayed, but not denied". I asked God to heal my relationship, to fix it, to show me the way. Well; what I finally realized was that He did. And what He showed me was THIS was not the relationship for me. Not at this time, not with this person. Doesn't mean that I won't ever be with anyone again, doesn't mean I am destined to be lonely; I certainly don't feel lonely. I feel nothing but blessed.

But it means that this is a delay; NOT a denial. This wasn't it. But that doesn't mean, when I'm ready the next one or the one after that, or the one after that--won't be. I looked at my oldest daughter today and knew that I'd made the right choice. I don't want her to grow up believing you should accept less than you are worth--no matter who it is. Even her dad. So to remain someone she can feel positively about; I had to let the noose around MY neck go.

And as long as I'm ok with it; as long as I can go to bed and wake up and feel good about myself; then I know I made the right decision. No crying myself to sleep anymore, no wondering what's going to happen next, when we're going to do x,y,z. No more fretting over extracurricular activities or what he thinks. I'm free. Free. And its alright; because I clearly hear Him: "Delayed, but NOT denied".

Toodles!

ReaLM

I'm here...

Hey out there:

I'm still here, but I've been doingtoomuch.com. Work, school, kids has been Charlie Sheen type of crazy the last couple of weeks.

But I'll be back with a new entry soon...gotta few thoughts roiling around in my head that I just have to share with ya'll...

Toodles!

Its not them, its you (subtitled: When you see crazy, cross the street)

So I was at dinner with some friends last night; and during conversation one of them was relaying a story in which she responded to someone who asked her a question about how she was raising her son. To which I asked said friend, "Why did you even respond?". She giggled, and I told her, "You don't respond to crazy, when you see crazy, cross the street!"

That's been sticking with me this morning. I originally planned to title this post just "its not them, its you" but I think that the ability to recognize crazy is central to that concept.

At any rate; the moral of today's lesson is, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news--if you continually keep running into the same type of people in your life, its not "them" that has a problem, its you sweetie. If ever person you were roommates with in college was a crazy, deranged lunatic---ummmm, you need to go to the mirror, point, and say "its not them, its me!" If every man you've ever dealt with was a pot-smoking, unemployed, baby daddy, who came to get him some cookies and never spent the night---go to the mirror and say "its not them, its me!". If every boss you've ever had micromanaged, wrote down when you came in late, and generally was sucky---go to the mirror and say, "its not them, its me!"

You see; we attract what we are. And the problem with this; is most people don't realize that before its too late. If you get ONE bad roommate, then ok. If you get FOUR; then more than likely, you are finding flaws with them unconsciously OR you are the problem roommate and don't realize it. No one has that much bad luck. Its just not cosmically possible. But it is very much cosmically possible for you to attract the same type of whatever, in all situations. You look for it, you crave it, you just "find" those that fit that criteria.

So when you realize that is happening, personally, I do it by the 2nd one of "whatever"; then you need to change up something in your life. You need to make an effort to recognize, hey, this is happening to me again--so I must alter something about myself and my aura so this type of person will not be attracted to me and vice versa.

Or; you need to be able to take a critical look at yourself. Feel free to ask a friend (if you have any, because if YOU'RE the crazy one, you probably don't have very many LOL)You always fall out with females cause they are jealous? Mmmm, maybe you keep attracting people who envy you because it makes you feel superior. You keep falling for men who can't commit? Maybe its cause you are sleeping with them as soon as they look at you cross-eyed. Every organization you've been in, no one wants to listen to your ideas? Maybe its because you scream your ideas out at inappropriate times and stomp off like a child when they tell you to table it to new business. *Kanye shrug* You have to be willing to look in that mirror!

This is also where the crazy detector comes in handy---you have to recognize it and be willing and able to walk away from it when it comes down your aisle. When you walk down the street and the homeless man, bless his soul, is sitting under the overpass talking to himself--you might hand him some money, but do you try to answer his nonsensical ramblings? I hope not! Instead, you might slip him something, and cross the street--hoping that he will get the help he needs from a person trained to deal with his ailments.

You have to be willing to do the same with the people that come into your life, unless you are trained to deal with their ish. When that crazy detector goes off---cross the damn street!!!!!! There is no obligation to deal with those that it just makes zero sense to deal with.

And FYI; if I know you personally and I haven't been dealing with you, you just found out its because my crazy detector went off...:)

Toodles!

ReaLM

Anybody But Carol Campaign winding down...

Oohh; I have been wanting to write THIS blog for the longest, but Snowmeggedon and bronchitis prevented me...but here we go:

Carol Mosely-Braun is the biggest joke since Alan Keyes. When I say; as a black female that I am soundly insulted that SHE was the best "black candidate" we could come up with in the first real mayoral race in over 20 years that is an understatement. Let's take a quick look at Carol's travails this election cycle:

• Said she wasn't disclosing her tax returns (the only candidate to not do so) changed her mind the next day, revealed she earned $15,000 in 2008 and $0 in 2009; but has a 4.5 million dollars worth of mortgages. So you earn so little you qualify for food stamps, but you have a home in the millions. Either she is a dumb ass or a liar. I won't venture to say which.
• Tells a marginal candidate during a community forum in which the candidates are sitting on the altar, for all intents and purposes, that she doesn't know what Carol's been doing for the last 20 years because she's bee on "crack". So you calling folks crackheads now?
• Releases her sole tv ad invoking the fact that she wasn't allowed to play with her white neighbor when she was 7 years old as the impetus for not allowing patronage. HUH?
• Maintains she is in 2nd place; she is barely holding on to 3rd

I launched the ABBC campaign several weeks ago not realizing that I would have so little work to do because the idiocy of the candidate would do the damage all by itself.

I will say that Carol is proof that just because you're black, doesn't mean black folks 1) like you 2) will vote for you. If the black folks running for office would take the time to actually NOT take the black vote for granted, they would figure that out. It is my fervent hope and prayer that Carol and her hair will go softly into that good night, back to her million dollar house, avoid the muggers, and brew up some coffee at her sham company. But please Carol; leave Chicago alone; just like you've done for the last 13 years. We've been doing just fine without you.

So Chicago, vote early, vote often and vote for Anybody But Carol!!!!! *two fingers*

Why not me?

Excuse me readers; I need a little temper tantrum time.

I am so grateful for all I have been blessed with, I know I have riches untold....

Yadda yadda yadda...

Ok; now that I got the gratitude out the way: Why not ME???????

I think I'm a halfway decent person, I do what I'm supposed to do damnit. Why does the shit I want not fall in my lap? Why do I work so hard and still end up not getting what I want? Its no fair! Its no fair! *kicking and screaming*

I am watching the fricking Kardashians...they are rich for what? Khole just ran up and married an NBA player after knowing him 2 weeks? They have a tv show, why? WHY NOT ME?!

I want I want I want I want I want.....

Where's my million? Why aren't I Zuckerberg, a fricking billionaire at 26? Why don't I have my BMW truck? I work hard! Why is my big toe longer than all my other toes put together? I like open toed shoes! Why why why why why???????

And don't even get me started on my husband; I simply don't think there was one created for me....

Why, why why not me?

Ok; back to my regularly scheduled program...back to my normal composed mentally balance, grown up self. *wiping snot and drool off my face, combing hair back into place*

Toodles!

ReaLM

My deepest fear

So there is a news story that has been troubling my spirit for the last 36 hours. A father was charged today with the murder of his 9 year old daughter 2.5 years ago. This is a man who was married, living with his mother and other children in the house with his wife, worked at a hospital, crying all over the news---seemingly, at least on paper, stable. This man, allegedly, slit the throat of his 9 year old while she was visiting him for the summer--just 35 miles from the home she regularly lived in with her mother.

When this little girl first was discovered murdered; my daughter was 7 years old and actually visiting her own father across the country. This story illuminated one of my primal fears---that something would happen to my child while outside of my charge. Let's face it, by and large, fathers are not maternal and instinctive like most mothers. Fathers are reactive rather than proactive. Fathers are aggressive rather than nurturing. So if something happens, they will rear up--but they aren't very good at preventing it from happening.

So this shook my core when this child was hurt on her father's watch.

Today; when charges were filed against this father accusing him of being the one to actually murder her--I just cried. Its one thing for something to happen on Daddy's watch--its totally different for Daddy to do it. This man; again, seemingly stable could do THIS to his flesh? Then anyone can...

Now to my deepest fear...my daughter's father is NOT seemingly stable. He is scary. He is narcissistic. He is abusive. Did I know this when we were together? Some of it, some of it didn't come to light until after she was conceived. But in the 9 years she's been on earth; they've had a strained relationship because of those traits. Now that she's getting older, she's pushing away from him even more. He lives 3,000 miles away, so its not an "in your face" issue, but the summer is coming and he will ask for her to come visit. On a good day, he is too crazy for me to send her there; but in light of this very real reminder that even the seemingly NON-crazy can flip out, there is simply no way I will ever send my child to be with him unattended as long as I have breath in my body.

I'm sorry, call me selfish, call me overprotective, say its my fault for procreating with a nut...I don't care, call me dead if she ever catches a flight out there again. The one time she went; that summer of 2008 I only sent her because he is now married to--again, a seemingly stable young lady-- and he called me saying he was sending her home because she was homesick and getting on his nerves. The first time he'd spent more than 2 days around his daughter he was sick of her...is that a man I trust my precious gift with? No. *shaking head*

No one sends their child to spend time with their parent without the expectation of getting them back how they left. Unfortunately; there are few protections for those of us who KNOW that the other party is sick, abusive, and unfit. In my state and many others; unless the other parent lays hands on the child, visitation is still a right. So you have to send your kids, hold your breath, and pray that the crazy doesn't get unleashed on your child THAT time.

I do not know if the mother in Mya Lyons case believed something was "off" with Mya's father, I do not know if this was court ordered visitation, I do not know much of anything...but I do know that I am counting the days until my daughter's father asks can she come, I say "No" and listen to the barrage of "bitch" "selfish" "fuck you" that will surely follow. But I will not be bullied or guilted into loosing my child from MY protective arms. Not this time. I'll take the abuse and sleep at night. Take care.

Toodles,

ReaLM