Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Dear Abby

As I grow older, I spend less time asking for advice from my mother. I suppose there are two reasons for this, one being she has Alzheimer's and various other mental issues. The second being, well, she tells me what I don't want to hear. (Odd, huh?) And usually she is right about things. But she has to "rub it in" once her prophecy becomes reality.

Now Daddy and Lisa, yeah, they tell me stuff I don't want to hear either. But they don't do it in a condescending sort of way. And again, usually they are right.

You would think that with all my parents giving me such good advice, I would listen. But do I? No, I'm too stubborn and have to learn the hard way. Then, as most kids do, I crawl back and bawl on their shoulder and ask them why didn't they tell me this to begin with? (They did, I was just too busy ignoring them)

Then there are moments when I hear: "Mark my words, you are going to regret this". And I absolutely hate hearing it. And I'm not ashamed to say, I have covered my ears and hummed to myself when advice comes out of someone's mouth beginning with those words. Which always brings me back to the age old question: "what did you ask for, if you didn't want the answer?" I guess I'm waiting on someone to tell me what I want to hear. And damnit, I haven't met anyone yet who will do that. Maybe Dear Abby might...

Thursday night, Steve and I were talking over dinner and out of his mouth comes the remark "I tried to point that out earlier". And in my mind, I thought "yeah, you did, but I wasn't ready to listen then".

So here I am, ready to take his advice. And here I am, wondering why in the hell did I not listen to him to begin with? And I answered my own question:

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

No, I don't truly believe I'm insane or heading that direction, but it sounds like a good excuse to me.

So on that rambling note: wish me luck. I'm about to ass kiss like I have never ass kissed before. But, it's for a good reason. We shall see what happens. I don't accept defeat well, I never have. However, when defeat comes in the form of rejection, I have been known to completely lose it. This time I am bound and determined, I will not lose it. I'll keep my head held high and not let them know how disappointed I am. Again, insert insanity theory here.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys-R-Us Kid

I stood there watching from about 100 ft away. I took a deep cleansing breathe from the crisp, sweet morning air. It was then I realized I had been holding my breath, afraid of what the day might bring for him, for me. He turned and looked back, not a care in the world; his biggest decision for today was whether or not to pack his lunch or eat at school. Reassured that I was there, he happily walked away. Suddenly, he stopped, turned and ran back into my arms. I kiss him on his forehead and tell him how much I love him, even if he aggravates me to no end. He said half sobbing and half laughing, "I hope you are there to watch me the rest of my life". Mimicking my own laugh, he's off again; ready to take on the day. Once again, I stand and watch as my only live child begins to take steps towards independence.

Leaning against the doorframe, I think about what he said. My biggest concern has always been the same, never wavering. I want to be there to watch my son grow, learn and make his own mistakes. I want my son to one day be a strong, independent man. Yet, at the same time, I want my son to always need his mother. I am sure in some fashion or another, he will. As far as I know, all mothers feel this way about their children.

These past 8 months have been a struggle for us. A new man coming into our lives, his beloved Jac going back to work, having to make sure every day he knows which house to come home to. The only man who he trusted enough to get close to, left with no explanation that he could comprehend. His father remarrying after 8 years of undivided attention, gone in a 20 minute ceremony. The news of being a big brother, not to the boy as he had hoped, but to a dreaded girl. After all, everyone knows girls can't play like boys can. And once she is old enough to play, he will be off doing his own thing. Throw in school, which he doesn't understand half the time, lots of homework that needs to be done before he can play baseball, or have fun with the neighbor kids. And the icing on his cake that is melting in 90-degree weather, his mother has something terrible called cancer. Not to forget that his aunt has it also.

Did I mention the kid doesn't have a care in the world? Ahhhh, to go back to the youthful days of small responsibilities. Coming home to find a note left on the table telling me my chores for the day. Hurrying to get them done before Little House on the Prairie came on at 4 p.m. Having the kitchen TV. all to myself, because my brothers and sister were not interested in "kid stuff". Playing outside on nice days, sitting on my rooftop, I was the queen of my universe; and no one ever told me different. The worst possible scenario in our household was my two older brothers getting into a fight and beating each other with cast iron skillets. (I was huddling in the doorway, screaming to the top of my lungs that I was going to tell on them)

When did the world of children become so complicated? Is it something of our doing or is it just the evolution of man? I want to go back to the days of someone telling me what to do; managing money for me and my worst enemy was the mosquito that would leave whelps on my skin. I want to go back to waking up in the morning and smelling fresh cinnamon biscuits cooking in the oven. I want to go back to the days when I thought boys were only good for putting worms on my hook. I want to go back to the days when my mother actually remembered my name. I want to go back to sitting in the living room with my Daddy watching Jeopardy and eating frosted flakes.

I look down at my sleeping son some nights and I wonder, what does he think about? What does he dream about? Does he know how much I love him? Will he ever be able to fully comprehend some of the decisions I have made in his best interest? Does he care? Will I ever be able to watch him grow into the man I know he can be?

I hope so. And when he thinks back on his childhood, I hope he remembers those carefree days of youth gone by and not the horrible memories of things we are going through now.

Monday, May 21, 2007

What's in it for me?

I received a letter from Kevin over the weekend and just finished reading it. He wants to sit down and hash this mess out between the two of us. Basically, we have been telling each other off through counselors, lawyers and an occasional letter. I'm hesitant, but I see where he is coming from.

He made two valid points. If he sees me and I walk away, it will break his "already shattered heart". If he never sees me again, he doesn't have to face the pain and responsibility for what he has done to me in the past. He did say he would like to see me but is terrified of what will happen when we do see each other. Will we both cry for what we have lost or will we be like old friends catching up? I honesty do not know the answer to that. It is so much easier to "get over" some one when you don't have to face them.

In order to complete the 12-step program, you should make amends with the people you have hurt. As of today, he has never once said he is sorry for what we went through. I wonder if maybe this meeting could be his chance. I know I need closure, somehow. I'm not sure if it will come once the MSA is complete or if it will be when I can look him in the eyes and say to him, with all the honesty in my heart: I don't love you anymore. You took away my innocent, naive ways, my ability to trust others and most of all you took away 24 years of my life that I will never, ever be able to get back.

Can I see him, turn around, and walk off? I would like to think I could. I would like to squelch the maternal feelings I have towards him. I'd like to be able to saunter off with the heavy burden of terrible memories, gone. I want to be able to hold my head up high, knowing I did the best thing for my son and I. I want to turn around and see Steve standing there, waiting on me. I want to finally be happy. Is that too much to ask? Am I trying to pull the fairy tale out my ass? Am I being selfish to ask, what's in it for me?

When I saw you on the street

I almost turned away
When you stared in disbelief
Because I smiled and waved
Oh the years have turned my bitterness
Into a sad regret
And it's good to finally talk to you
And lay our past to rest

Cause(And) I have changed and you have changed
And all is forgiven now
And a long and silent last embrace
Shows our repect somehow
But it's ok to cry a little
I know where it comes from
These tears of sadness and relief
When love dies in your arms

You were once my deepest pain
But you were oce my friend
And a part of me was holding on
Till I saw you again
I couldn't bear to see it end
With rage and jealousy
A feeling once so beautiful
Should die with dignity

Cause(And) I have changed and you have changed
And all is forgiven now
And a long and silent last embrace
Shows our repect somehow
But it's ok to cry a little
I know where it comes from
These tears of sadness and relief
When love dies in your arms

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

If you say so

The 9 most dangerous words a woman can say:

1.) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

2.) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

3.) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with Nothing usually end in Fine.

4.) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

5.) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about Nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of Nothing.)

6.) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's Okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

7.) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or Faint. Just say you're welcome.

8.) Whatever: Is a women's way of saying SCREW YOU!

9.) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking "What's wrong?" For the woman's response refer to #3.

And I have to add one that I personally use:

"if you say so", which usually means, "I'm just amusing you because you think you are right, but I know you are wrong".....

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Shhh, be very, very quiet, I'm hunting wabbits

This past Saturday, I went and took a First Steps Pistol Class. Steve's mom, Susan, was the instructor. Growing up around guns, I "thought" I was a safe shooter when it came to firearms. 1. This is what I get for "thinking" and 2. I'm glad I never shot anyone in all my excursions with a gun (rifle or otherwise).

Here in Botetourt County, before all the b.s. about guns became around, it was nothing to see a shotgun or rifle in the back of one of your classmates trucks. I can even remember when we all got the first day of hunting season off. When we got to 7th grade, during gym class, we took Hunter Education. Mr. Agnor taught this class and honestly, I'm not sure if I paid attention to the material or if I was too busy drooling. My friend Christy was in my gym class...did we pay attention? At any rate, we had to have this class to get our hunting license once we turned 16. So, I took it and all these years, thought I was "safe". I was horribly mistaken.

First thing I took away from this class was trigger safety. I will admit, I would keep my finger on the trigger once the gun or handgun was in place. If something interrupted me, well, the gun went with my hand. As I said before, I'm lucky no one ever got shot. Kinda like new drivers, when they look at something, the wheel sort of turns with their head. Anyway, I now know where to keep my finger.

I also figured out I can't hit the broad side of a barn with both eyes open. Being left eye dominant and right handed is a hindrance when it comes to shooting a gun or a bow. I have learned to shoot a bow left-handed and a rifle left handed, but still can't quite get a handgun down pat. I now feel like Elmer Fudd when he was trying to shoot Bugs Bunny. Somehow, Bugs always managed to get away and Elmer Fudd was left looking around wondering what had just happened. So when it came down to the practical part of the class, I was screwed. I did hit the target (I think), but not very often. Good thing I wasn't graded on marksmanship. I would have been up shit creek.

I'm really glad I took the class. I learned a lot more that I thought I would. The class didn't just cover safety; it also went into parts of the pistol, ammunition, cleaning, storing and the fundamentals of shooting. I have to say, I would definitely recommend everyone taking this class if they are going to be a gun owner. Now that I think about it, it's kinda scary that all these people have guns and have never had any "formal" training at all. Hell, I grew up around guns and still wasn't as trained as I thought I was. That kinda knocked me down a notch or two. Nothing like humility to make a person remember where they came from.

After the class, I got to shoot one of Steve's "big guns", as mentioned in the previous blog. I really, really liked that. I can see why he likes his guns.
We got to spend the day with his Mom and that was cool. I like her teaching style and I can see a lot of her in Steve, especially when it comes to patience. All in all, we had a good day.

So that was my big adventure for the weekend. No plans for this one coming up, I have a feeling it will be our last one before we have to start getting moved and such. Yet again, that is another blog...

oooo laaa laaa, A new love

I never knew guns could be sexy, seductive or make a person feel powerful. Then I watched Steve shoot his latest, greatest toy.

Then I got to shoot it. Whew.....I'm in love. (with Steve of course). Somehow we didn't get pics of me shooting. I think he was too busy making sure I wasn't going to shoot his ass to grab the camera.

I don't know what it is, a Greek made something or another, if you want details, ask him. I just know I really like that gun.
More details to come on the latest melodrama that is my life. And all about how I can't hit the broad side of a barn.


I. The Lie

A. The lie I was told and didn't discover until it was too late.

Be a good person and people will respond in kind.

(yeah whatever, most people are fucktards, excluding present company)

B. The lie I told that no one has figured out.

This too shall pass.

(it passes all right, then sneaks up behind you and bites you on your ass)

II. The Truth

A. The truth about life I wish more people would accept.

Life sucks at times.

(we aren't immune to life's drama)

B. The truth about life I myself can't seem to accept.

No matter how hard I try, life doesn't revolve around me.

(damnit man, WHY can't everyone cooperate??)

III. The Dream

A. The fantasy already attained.

Well, there was this one drunken night.....

(that will remain a secret)

B. The fantasy yet unrealized.

Living with the love of my life.

(I keep telling myself, soon. Well, it can't get here fast enough for me)

IV. The Nightmare

A. The fear conquered.

Being alone.

(you have time to reflect on how much you have screwed up and how to avoid it next time)

B. The fear that remains.

Somewhere along the way, I messed up.

(I think the day was August 24th, 1984)

V. The Beginning and the End

A. The thing I should start doing.


('cause I couldn't run if my life depended on it)

B. The thing I should stop doing.

be afraid of life

(I might as well enjoy it, doesn't look like there will be a round 2)

Tag to anyone who feels brave enough.....

Friday, May 11, 2007

Mother’s Day

Sunday is Mother's Day. I guess as a mother, I'm supposed to be all excited and feel honored, I'm sure I should feel some emotion other than "it's just another day". I feel this way towards my own mothers, not just about me being a mother. I always tell my mother and my Mom that I love them, miss them and how much I need them. Maybe it's a female bonding thing? I'm not sure.

I have never made it a secret that I did not plan on having children. When I found out I was pregnant with twins, it was about the same time as the death of my Nannie. I somehow thought it was Divine Intervention. It was a gift from God to "make up for" taking my beloved Nanny. We all know how that turned out.

I wasn't very kind to my body during the beginning of my pregnancy. Not knowing, I drank, did drugs, smoked, ran around, partied my ass off and lost over 35 lbs. Once I found out I was expecting again, I was devastated. Not only was I going to have a baby, but also I was alone in the world (Dale was not around and Kevin had went back to his wife). But not once did the thought of giving up my child or having an abortion cross my mind. The only thought that plagued me was losing the baby as I had lost the other ones. Against all odds, he is the one who survived. I've always called Drew my "miracle child". This child has had it rough when it comes to me being his Mama.

I remember the first time he called me Mama. I almost freaked out and at the same time, I was thrilled. 9 years later, I still get that butterfly feeling when I hear my son laugh or call me Mama.

I won't lie; being a mother is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Everyday there is something new, something else to contend with. I have found what works for one child, does not work with another. There is not a book, an instructional manual or a do it yourself video to prepare you for having a child. Or for being the mother of that child.

I am not perfect. I know I will never be nominated for the mother of the year award. I have no patience. I scream at my child. He screams at me just as loud. I lose my temper and stomp off, terrified that I will somehow hurt him with my words. There are days when I wish he would leave me alone. There are days I wish he would pay more attention to me. Seeing him walk off to the bus stop by himself for the first time the other day almost broke my heart. But when he comes home, sits on my lap and puts his arms around me and tells me he loves me, it all disappears, it makes being a mother worth it.

I guess when I think of Mother's Day, I think about the little things that Andrew and I share. Not the fact that I am his mother or that I should get accolades for having a child. I am content with just being Mama. Anyone can be a "mother", but it feels so much better when you are called Mama.

Clay Walker--"Fore She Was Mama"

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Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Yup I still want a diamond

One of my friends posted a bulletin this morning with the following pictures. She is a really great person, but one person can't save the world. To me, these pictures, while they may show the truth, also are what I like to call a guilt trip. They are intended to make you feel guilty for buying such things. It brings to your attention things that you would rather not see or hear about. The unpleasantries of life, so to speak. (Yes, you grammar Nazis, I made up a word, hehe)

Some of you may remember the days of the Ethiopia campaign. My parents would tell me things such as "eat all your liver, there are starving children in Ethiopia." I would then ask if we could send my portion of liver to all the starving countries. After picking myself up off the floor, I soon learned that I couldn't save the world with one plate of liver.

I have always maintained the fact that there was only one person in this world who can make me feel "guilty" about my actions. And sadly, she is no longer here. I never felt so bad in my entire life as when she would tell me "you never spend the night with me anymore." What I wouldn't give to have that chance now. Unreasonably, I still carry that guilt around with me.

At any rate, I will look at these pictures, say, "wow, I didn't know that or that's a shame", but will it change the way I look at a diamond, food or even a pair of jeans? No, it won't. Does that make me a bad person? I hope not, because I'm looking forward to the day that I get my next diamond. HINT, HINT Steve.

So, are there pictures, news articles, etc that you have seen that makes you completely stop buying a product or stop using something? I'm just curious because I wonder if I'm being a cold hearted b*tch.

Monday, May 7, 2007

all together now...awww

I can't get Steve to say "aww, ain't that cute" to save my life. Ok, well, if there were cheerleaders, maybe. But I found a website that even the hard asses have to say "aww". Here it is:

crack pipes and Mother's Day

It's a hell of a combination, huh? I think I found out where crack pipes come from (well some of them). Andrew and I stopped on our way home from school to get some snacks for his game. I sat in the truck, since he's getting to an age where he doesn't need an escort everywhere he goes. He comes out grinning from ear to ear and hands me a small glass cylinder. Inside there is a pink rose. On each end, it has a cork. As soon as I saw it, I felt like I was in a horror movie: flashbacks hit me hard. Burn marks, yellow fingers, the smell of burning rubber, the crack of cocaine as it burns and small roses given to me years ago.
Somehow, I am just now figuring out where those roses came from. Apparently, he would buy these little roses in a glass container; take out of the rose (aww, what a sweet gesture, he gave them to me) and then use the cylinder as a makeshift crack pipe.
It amazes me what will bring back horrible memories. Something as sweet as a child buying his mother a rose can be twisted into something so vile.
The good thing is now I have new memories of different holidays rather than every one being messed up by the crack head. Only a few more to go and the whole calendar year will be covered. The only memory I want of the crack head is the day the judge tells me it's finally over.

So, on that note, here is my Mother's Day present and card from my son. If he's already doing sweet gestures like this at 9 years old, I hope he keeps it up when he gets a girlfriend. Well, maybe not, depends on the girlfriend.

Friday, May 4, 2007

testing 1...2...3...

Remember the old broadcasting tests they used to do? The ones where everything stopped for 20-30 seconds and all you heard was the annoying siren sounding buzz. When I was smaller and lived on the Navy base, I remember they would start out with the testing 1...2....3....I always wondered what they were testing. Finally, one time, I heard it come across the airwaves, this time there was no prologue of "this is only a test". It turned out to be a hurricane. I barely remember it, but I remember the devastation it caused. Right now, I feel like my life has crossed over into the emergency mode. I know what devastation is on its way.

On Wednesday, I got a call from my gynecologist/oncologist asking if I could be at his office at 3 p.m. I made it there by 2:40 p.m. Needless to say; I wanted to know how the test results came out. I had a gut feeling that something was wrong when my nurse didn't joke around with me about having to weigh me. She barely spoke and couldn't look in my eyes. With a foreboding feeling, I followed her to a conference room rather than an examination room. Dr. G. (no, not the forensic pathologist, Heather!!) came in and sat down. He did not give any warning, he just spoke in those hushed tones that doctors use when giving anyone bad news.

"Your test results came back malignant for uterine cells". "Since this is your 3rd reoccurrence, you are now what is considered recurrent uterine sarcoma, stage IIIA. " Suddenly, my stomach felt like it was going down a roller coaster and the rest of my body was still on unmoving ground. 2 days later, I still feel that way.

At this point, my options are a total reconstructive pelvic surgery, chemotherapy, radiation or hormone treatment therapy. I will be completely honest; chemotherapy is my very last option. I will only choose it should the doctor's tell me it's my last option. And even then, I'm not sure I would go through it again.

Radiation is a good choice, but it will involve being hospitalized. Also, another drawback: radiation cannot be done in the same place twice. So, should it ever reoccur again, radiation would not be an option. Having the total pelvic reconstruction works much the same way; once it's done, there is not a lot of tissue left for the surgeons to take. So that leaves me with hormone therapy. From what I have learned so far, they give you mega doses of hormones in hopes of killing the cancer.

Whatever I choose, I have no more than a 55% chance of beating this. Should I choose not to do anything, yes, I will die. Not immediately, but within a few years, it will slowly spread throughout my body.

Steve and I discussed all the options and he told me he is selfish enough to ask me to do something, not just ignore it and hope it will go away. Because I am a mother, I do feel an obligation to make sure I see my son into adulthood. However, there is a side of me that wants to say, I'm done, finished, see ya later, bye. But I know in my heart, I cannot do that. Not only because of Steve, but for the main reason, that little boy who's big brown eyes mirror mine.

I have an appointment in 2 weeks with a reproductive endocrinologist, who will give me more details on the hormone therapy. In between now and then, I will have lots of doctors appointments and tests done to see what is left down there.

I have to say, Steve has been my rock over the last few months. I never would have dreamed of meeting a man and within months of meeting him, telling him I have cancer and expect him to stay. Not only has he stayed; we have planned a future together. A future I plan on being part of. He told me when we had our first all night conversation that every girl he has been with ended up telling him he was "emotionally unavailable". Yeah, well, those chicks must have been very needy or very stupid, because he has been nothing but my emotional rock. No, it may not come out within minutes of me telling him something, but within a day or so, he pulls through for me.

I guess I'm done now; I just wanted to let everyone know what was going on. Only a selected few gets to read this blog, mainly because you are the ones I care about most. I don't think even Steve is on my "preferred list" and I ask you all to keep what I have said in confidence.

Everyone has asked what he or she can do. Right now, nothing. Just make sure you tell your children and your significant other how much you love them, because you never know what might happen. I love you all.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007


How do you make a choice that will forever impact not only your life, but the life of those you love?
Do you make the choice selfishly and only do what you feel is right for you? Or do you take everyone else's thoughts and feelings into consideration?

I only have questions right now, no answers.