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.

you can't call me: late for dinner

recently i asked my friends to use three words to describe me. among the amazing responses were the following:

outgoing, open minded, funny, strong, open to new experiences, the person you want in your corner, well educated, hilarious, one in a million, brilliantly sarcastic, excellent mother, strong woman, witty, creator of fantastically caustic remarks, awesome, reliable/dependable, trustworthy, witty, funny, creative, up for anything, and, most awesomely: bacon, lettuce, tomato.

how YOU doin?

first off: totally humbled by the things people posted. i have some amazing friends and i could say the same things about all of them.

second: let me point out a few things that WEREN'T used to describe me:

tattooed, pierced, punk

what makes me bring up those three things specifically?

well, during the recent boyfriend experiment those were exactly the three things that were used to describe me. to an ex. during a conversation to allow a child stay at my house.

i'll let you guess how that ended up.

to say that it bothered me would be putting it lightly. obviously. it made it to the blog-o-sphere.

do i have tattoos? yeah. do i have piercings? ears and my nose. nothing more. am i a punk? fuck no. not in any way.

i think what bothered me most is it made me feel like a freak. like a show and tell piece. like someTHING instead of someONE.

of all the ways to describe me or introduce me to someone or talk about me- it wasn't about ME. it wasn't about WHO i am.

i've never been ashamed of my tattoos before. I LOVE THEM. i love my little piece of purple hair. it's my little way of not being boring. of not giving up and just being another bland carpool mom. it lets me still be ME in the middle of all the things i'm "supposed" to be. as to my piercings- i had my ears pierced when i was FIVE. and my nose- so what? it's nothing. it's a tiny little jewel that most people don't even notice. i dont have my face pierced up, i don't have dermal anchors or corset piercings or dermal implants or body modifications and SO WHAT if i did? if i chose to do all those things and join a traveling side show and have that as my barker name, THEN you could describe me that way. until then, whose business is it?

for the first time i was ashamed. i questioned my decisions. i felt bad about being different or outside the traditional cookie cutter. i was made to feel like it made me a bad person or a bad mom. there was more to it. there always is. but I HATE THAT. i hate that because one person decided to twist a few things about me it made me pause. i actually took time to think about changing my hair or taking out my nose ring so i would "fit in better" (what does that even mean? fit into what?) i wondered how many people judge me by what they see and how offensive i am and all the CRAP that goes with it.

then i stopped. and i realized: people that judge me that way aren't people i particularly want around anyway. so. there's that.

but i will say: i understand that not everyone appreciates ways i've chosen to express myself. i get it. tattoos aren't for everyone. quite a few people don't understand purple hair. I GET IT. i don't shove it in people's faces. if i'm meeting someone new i tame down and wear long sleeves and make sure my hair is covered. i don't want people to be uncomfortable. most of all: i don't want people to judge me. i probably worry about that more than i should. i just want to be here. i just want to meet people and have them get to know me and know the things my friends know. i don't want to be someTHING. i want to be someONE.

and to the people that matter, i am.