gene

well. it's been almost a week since the teenager moved. the last few days before the move were tough- PLENTY of emotions on both sides.

the big spawn had a few friends over to say goodbye one night- he really did have a group of GOOD kids that he associated with. i'll miss having a house full of kids arguing over whose GPA is the highest and who speaks the most languages before they go nerd out on zelda.

the next night he went to a party some friends from school threw for him- that one was harder since it was a last minute "hey, i'm going to this." one of a few final defiant moves of "i'm already losing everything, what are you going to do?" no permission asked, just deciding on his own. add that to the HUGE stack of dishes from going on strike, the mess leftover in his room, just all the little things that added up and made the transition somewhat easier.

so much frustration, hurt, anger, relief, everything rolled into one. sunday came and went in a brief not even 10 minute window of loading things into the car and gone.

i stood there watching him load his dads car and drive off and it just...hurt.

hurt isn't a big enough word (i'll come back to this in another post).

i am SO eternally grateful for friends checking in, taking me out for a spa day, being sounding boards, providing distractions.

the small spawn and i are adjusting to a different home atmosphere now.  the small spawn chatters CONSTANTLY now. i'm not sure if it's because he's trying to fill the silence or if it's because he feels like he's not being shut down every time he talks, but either way it's hilarious (and slightly overwhelming) to listen to him go on and on and on for 20-30 minutes NON-STOP.

now. if you know me, you know that my way of dealing with particular shitty-shit in my life is to add the inside feelings to the outside skin via tattoo.

and so, i would like to introduce gene:

gene is the sweetest bad ass mofo you'll ever see.  he's a reminder that no matter how beat up, no matter how broken hearted, you keep going.

it's been a rough few years. i've taken my share of hard knocks. there's been more than once i wanted to quit- whatever that meant. but there's always kids that need food, bills that need paid, a dog that needs out to pee, SOMETHING. i've wanted to quit, but i've never actually given myself that actual option to quit. many times i felt like a little robot- shut off the emotions, shove them deep down, just keep going. just. keep. going.

that's gene.

take a hit, keep going, and try your damndest to come back swinging.

i never...

i never thought i'd be the parent that called the police on my own child.

i never thought i'd have bruises from my own child.

i never thought a lot of things.

i DID think a lot of things though too.

i thought raising a teenager would be hard. i didn't know it would tear me apart piece by piece.

i thought i knew how to handle grief and loss. now i realize i have no clue.

i thought i would always know what to do for my kids and how to help them.

now i realize how foolish that was.

i don't know. i don't know how to fix either of them. and at this point they both need so much.

there is so much damage to be undone.

there is so much hurt and anger for all of us to work through.

i'm having such a hard time with everything right now.

on days like saturday when a police officer is in the front yard talking to my son and another is in the house talking to me i just want the move to be over and done so we don't have to keep waking up to this toxicity. i'm tired of being on edge waiting for the next explosion.

then days like yesterday when everyone is getting along and things seem fine i question the whole decision.

then days like today when both boys can do nothing but argue over every. trivial. insignificant. inconsequential thing i just want to scream and leave them both and move to the middle of no where all on my own.

i feel so much guilt and anxiety right now.

i'm not being a good friend to anyone right now because i'm hiding and avoiding everyone. i know i'll be distracted until all the dust settles.

i also know i have ZERO patience right now for anyone else. the slightest things leave me itching for a brutal knock down drag out fight. i know i'm just transferring my anger and frustration onto (not completely) innocent bystanders. so i've been biting my tongue and hiding to avoid causalities of war.

i'm not being a good mom because i'm on edge and completely worn out (fast food ALL WEEK. disgusting.) the house is a mess. the sink is full of dishes. the laundry is stacking up. all i can do is sit and stare at nothing. i don't want to help with homework or tell jokes. i don't want to pack lunches. it's all i can do to get out of bed and make sure there's still a paycheck at the end of the week.

i'm not being anything besides this shell of what used to be me.

i knew it would be hard.

but i never knew it would be this hard.

the weekend is a day away and i'm terrified to have a repeat of the last one. weeks are fine between school and work and limited hours together. weekends are a different story.

and i have no idea what to do about monday- there's no school and i can't leave the boys home alone at all anymore. and i can't keep letting this distract me from work or there won't be a work to be distracted from.

amd i'm trying not to think about things i can't control.

i can't control what it will be like for my son on the other side of the state. he's going to live with a parent who doesn't know how to be a parent. i know they will make it work, but i'm worried about how hard it will be for them while it's falling in line.

i can't control that other people still maintain contact with my mother and her husband. i won't have any say over my son being exposed to (or protected from) a pedophile.

i can't control how they will get along or the challenges they'll face.

i can't control how my son will feel when he leaves and whether or not he'll ever want to talk to me after he leaves.

i can't control how much anger he's feeling and how much hate he has towards me.

i can't control losing my sidekick, the kid who has been through EVERYTHING with me. he graduated high school and college with me. he's moved every time i have. he's been through marriage and divorce with me. we've visited countless doctors and principals offices together.

i never thought my life would feel this hopeless but hopeful at the same time.

you're not alone

well, it's barely before the deadline (ok, technically after as of now), but here it is, for your birthday:

i grew up in a small town. the type of town where when you look back through your grade school class photos you recognize the same morphing faces year after year because there was a good chance you shared the same teacher with the same kids SEVERAL times.

it probably looked like a pretty average household on the surface. 3 bedroom house in town. no blatantly dark clouds or horror stories connected to our family. church on sunday and wednesday. parents both worked and weren't known as the town drunk, or anything like that. our family didn't have any superstars- i did manage to make the usual appearances in the school news paper when it came time for honor roll. we watched TGIF on fridays and made a once a month trip to the "big city" for necessities before walmart came to town.

i was never a popular kid by ANY stretch of the imagination. didn't attend one party through all of high school. i didn't have a lot of friends. or any, really, for that matter. i had people- drama club people, cheer team people, youth group people. but not really friends. no one that i hung out with outside those activities. no one that i spent hours on the phone with or anyone whose house i would have considered a second home.

beneath the surface- it wasn't great. i was lonely ALL the time. it's pretty sad when some of the only memories i have as a kid are of making a special place in my closet to read my favorite books (yes, i was literally IN THE CLOSET as a kid). school was rough- being on the lower end of middle class with a mom who didn't pay any attention to...well...anything made for some awkward moments. i had ZERO fashion sense and a body that took full advantage of every possible quirk you could- high water pants, frizzy hair, thick rimmed glasses. i was an embarrassment to my brother, had a mom that basically didn't know i existed until my brother graduated high school (she literally told me once she had no idea i had a sense of humor until after he moved out).

I PROMISE, this isn't a total emo post, i'm getting to a point.

POINT: (see, i told you it was coming). GROWING UP SUCKED. from the social stuff to the pretty horrible stuff that was happening at home behind the scene and below the surface. high school was particularly heinous from getting suspended from school my freshman year (after having someone threaten to kill me in front of a teacher who walked away) to being pregnant my senior year.

i was sad. i was angry. i was hurt. i was alone.

and for the longest time i really truly thought i was the only one.

not the only one that had it rough. i mean- i know it's shitty all over to various degrees and all that bullshit.

I GET IT.

but i really thought my set of problems was unique. no one could really ever understand what i went through.

and i graduated.

and i grew up.

and through the wonder of social media i reconnected with a fellow survivor of my little high school.

this gal and i had ONE bond that i knew of. and it wasn't so much a bond as a shared timeline.

we were both "the pregnant girl" in our senior class. AT THE SAME TIME.

almost quite literally the same time. she managed to pop out her little critter a few weeks before graduation, mine came a few weeks after.

so.

there was that.

meh.
 
we had spend high school as what i could consider fringe friends- you know...on the outside of related people's circles. in a venn diagram she would be the yellow circle, i would be the blue circle, and we had a few people that shared the green zone.

in case that was too complex, here's a visual.

but then we started talking.

we both knew what it was like to be the pregnant one in a small high school.

we both managed to graduate high school.

we both went on graduate college with Bachelors Degrees.

we both married and divorced (and remarried- her) and added an extra kid (me) or two (her) along the way.

we even shared the same tragic ear piercing story.

and it kept on going- 

all the horrible behind the scenes stuff that went on growing up? she survived way too many of the same experiences. hell, even our first time sex stories are eerily similar.

we both spent a lot of time feeling alone and hurt and scared.

and here we are. both moms. both older. both wiser.

and we're facing the same battles again.

we're both battling through difficult teenagers that are breaking our hearts. we're both faced with making a choice neither of us wants to make but we know we have to.

and in the middle of this REALLY, REALLY shitty time, i'm reminded of the basic simple fact: i'm not alone.

and i'm not turning cartwheels watching another mom struggle, trust, i'm really NOT turning cartwheels. that would be dangerous and horrible for all involved.

but i AM being reminded that i'm not the only one.

and when you're feeling particularly singled out by the universe.

and when you're EXHAUSTED.

and when you're broken.

and when you're not sure how the fuck you're going to wake up and make it through another day of sludge and battle and when you can't see the other side of the swamp of sadness and your horse has already disappeared...

you can't give up! you have to try! ARTAX! PLEASE!

it's nice to not be alone. even if it's in a shitty spot. ESPECIALLY if it's in a shitty spot.

it's nice to know there's someone that ACTUALLY understands and isn't just trying to say the polite or nice thing. it's nice to know there's someone that gets that you can't just smile and make it better. it's nice to know you're not being picked on and singled out. and it's nice to have someone to cheer on and that's cheering you on right back.

and as you watch each other slowly take one step at a time it's nice to see that steps can still be taken.

and it's nice to see that as much as we have in common, we've both done things very differently and ended up in the same spot, so IT'S NOT ME. i didn't do any ONE THING that caused this change to happen. it's not something she or i did- forgetting a fruit snack one day, not letting them have that certain pair of shorts at the store, taking or not taking them to church, public school vs home school. some kids are just hard. i can't beat myself up for things i did or didn't do.

AND THIS IS MY MESSAGE TO HER: YOU CAN'T EITHER.

we've both battled. we've both done the best we know how. we've both given our kids the best parenting we could. we've both had structure and rules. we've both tried our damndest to raise GOOD kids. and they are. we have both raised two brilliant boys that are amazing kids (when they choose to be). WE HAVEN'T FAILED. we've just hit one helluva mother fucking road block. and we're both going to find a way around it. and it will suck. 98% sure of that.

BUT: you're not alone. and i'm not alone. ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT.

so. on your birthday. please know that you are AMAZING. and you've come so fucking far. look at all the statistics of things we shouldn't have done.

according to all those statistics:
we weren't supposed to graduate high school once we got pregnant.
we weren't supposed to graduate college as a teen mom.
we weren't supposed to be able to leave an abusive marriage.
we weren't supposed to have successful careers.

and we sure as fuck weren't supposed to do ALL of those things.

and here we are. you and me. long lost twins.

i'm not giving up.

on you.

on me.

on our kids.

YOU ARE AMAZING. you are strong. you are a fighter.

this year will be hard. i wish like hell i had a magical candle for your birthday cake that you could just blow out and make it all better.

but instead i give you this: YOU'RE NOT ALONE.

happy birthday. i wish you strength and gentleness, courage and peace, belief in yourself and love for yourself. i wish for you tireless endurance and knowledge it will turn out alright, even when it seems nothing is right. i wish you unity as a family, even when some of your pieces aren't within arms reach.



oh yeah. and i wish you a costco cart of kleenex and chocolate too. that probably should have been at the start of the list of wishes, just in case the genie spaced out part way through.

MASH UP

as with every year, i want to WRITE MORE.

this year, i'm taking a different tact. this will be the first (of hopefully many) post that will simply be a mash up of all the notes i make to myself, random sentences, vague half baked ideas, misc thoughts that never get full attention, all of it. just getting it out.

some of these may develop into full ideas/posts later, but for now at least it's something besides a scribbled note on my phone or stuffed in the bottom of my purse or lost on a random envelope back in a stack of misc crap that gets sorted a hundred times but never goes anywhere beyond that.

and so. here it is. the first mash up of 2014:

: from the darkest corners come the softest souls. those who have stood at the gates of hell and soldiered their way back among the living recognize each other from the marks left by the journey. we recognize the quiet look of need, the strengthened spine of endurance and the careful walk if unsure footing. we recognize the smile shifting between true and brave, the touch of shared sorrow and hear the earnest offer to share struggle.

our legion is numberless, or pains familiar but different. we possess the wisdom no one searches for, the stories no one wants to write.


 : I feel like the majority of my adult/parenting life has been about unfucking/trying to sort out all the shit that was my childhood. i spend an inordinate amount of time and effort NOT being my mother. I never want my kids to feel like their birth was an accident and a burden and the cause of a horrible life event. I never want them to feel like i HAD to do something (like getting married) because I was unable to care for them. I don't want them to feel unwanted to like an anchor or a grudging duty. but now I'm worried that I'm creating a whole new set of things for them that they'll spend their adult lives and parent lives unfucking and trying not to do to their kids. is this the perpetual state of being? does anyone actually like how they were raised and are they managing to create healthy small people that will actually like how they were raised too


: while I fully understand that shows like scandal are written and created for tv, I also understand the the idea and possibility behind the show is very real and probable. I also am coming to understand that I should not watch such show's because it makes me think and start to ask too many question. questions I will never be able to ask. questions, that either have no answer, or (I honestly believe) have a truth buried so deep I don't want to begin to pull the thread. 

I chose, very consciously, three years ago to not ask questions. when you know there will be no answer, sometimes it is better instead to focus on simply saying THAT SUCKS and move forward.

: "She inhaled the scent of peppermint tea- the aroma stirring a faint memory from childhood that stayed in shadow, just beyond grasp."

: "...and with a dramatic sigh that sounded much more serious than anything actually happening at this juncture in life."

: AND FINALLY- one of my first poems that was in a box of stuff my mum recently emotionally bombed me with.  98% sure this is stolen from somewhere, but i still love that at 6 i was writing about suicidal peanuts (subtext is everything)

a peanut sat upon the tracks

it's heart was all a flutter

until the train came round the bend...

choo choo...peanut butter.