My family are a pack of animals

As I sit here and watch Meerkat Manor, I realized just how lucky I am. If you haven't seen it, you should watch it. It is an adorable reality series about a family of Meerkats, named the Whiskers. They live in the Kalahari Desert and it seems if any sort of drama can come their way, it usually does.

One may wonder how I can compare my life to a pack of tiny creatures. Well, everyone knows my life has been packed full of one adventure after another. Full of lots of drama too. But that is not the part I am thinking of. The meerkats are a tight, close-knit family who watches after each other. As in, to the death, watch after each other. While thankfully I've never had to kill for a member of my family, I have no doubt in my mind that I would, without hesitation. And I know in return, they would do the same.

I'm sure you've heard the old adage about how it takes a village to raise a child. I am a firm believer in this statement. I often wonder how people raise more than one child. I am in amazement of any mother who has the balls to have more than one. I personally, could not handle having a second child. I used to ask my Mama, how did you do it? And her answer was always the same: you just do.

I was blessed with a lot of aunts and uncles, most biological, some not. We respected them as much as we respected our own parents. Come to think of it, we still do. What they said was law and we obeyed it, for fear of what would come should our parents find out we didn't. I have raised, with the help of Dale, my son to be the same way. And I have no problem whatsoever with a member of my family smacking him on the butt if he needs it. In the same breath, I have no problem whacking their kid either. If nothing else in this world I hope my child takes away from my being his mother, I hope it is to respect family.

As I said earlier, I am lucky in life. Sure, my health sucks a big one. But when it comes right down to it, I have a lot of family and friends who care about me and loves me unconditionally. In addition, I have a really special man who shares my world with me. He got a package deal with Andrew and I, but I also got a package deal with his family. I have come to love them as if they are my own. We may not see them as often as we would like, but when we do, we usually have a great time together.

For all my bitching and complaining, I have to say, I am truly blessed. I'm just glad I don't have to groom them like the meerkats do.

Those numbers in Red on your calender

As I get older, I have come to detest holidays. I've heard a lot of parents say they can relive their youth through their children and holidays. Well here are my thoughts on that statement: It sucked the first time around, so why do it again?
Actually, to be fair about things, my childhood holiday memories are not too bad. I think mainly because my Nannie was included in them.

Once I started my first relationship, I soon realized that holidays were nothing more than rushing from one house to another, plastering a smile on your face and pretending to like your SO in-laws, praying to God that it would be over soon so that I could go back home and prop my ass in front of the TV., where I wanted to be in the first place. Well, that was the case with every previous relationship I've had. Then in 1996, holidays became a "chore" for me. That year, the glue of my family passed away. Then a week before Thanksgiving, my son and daughter died. So needless to say, Thanksgiving was not a time of thanks for me that year. And every year after it became a little harder to convince myself this was for the "good of the family".
Andrew came along and soon, my Thanksgiving Day became divided into 3 parts: my family, my SO's family and having family time with Andrew. Since Dale's family celebrates Christmas on Christmas Eve, I get Andrew on Christmas Day. So to be fair about it, he has Andrew on Thanksgiving. They usually have a lunch, around 1 p.m. or so. I gotta throw in that I miss Sissy's sweet potato casserole. I still get a bowl every year. Perfect opportunity to "off" me, but they still love me, lol. But I digress; my family changes times from year to year. Depending on what everyone's in-laws are doing. So it seems this year we are having Thanksgiving, umm, "brunch", we will call it. Somewhere around 11:30-12. Too early for me to eat and too early for me to get Andrew.

So my thoughts on it all, is what is the point? I can't get my son, I see my family every week, we have a family dinner at the very least once a month, why do I have to drag my butt out of bed and go sit and look at them only to have a special meal. Yes, I know the history on Thanksgiving. Don't even get me started on that from a Native's point of view.

I guess my point is: Why would I need a special day to give Thanks, see my family & eat? I do this regularly. I don't need a day set aside to do it.
I'm starting to think Holidays should be optional. If you wanna come, fine, come, eat, drink & pretend to be happy. If you don't, sit your ass at home and watch whatever Marathon is on for the day.

I was telling Steve last night, there should be 3-4 holidays in a year. So here is Amie's Red letter days:

1.Christmas, which should be celebrated as it was meant to be, a religious holiday, not a commercial one.

2.Easter, because of the religious aspect.

3.April 2nd, my birthday, 'cause come on, let's face it; God broke the mold after me.

4. July 4th, because I like the fireworks and we should celebrate our country's independence.

Ok, maybe I'll concede and say let's throw in a Memorial Day/Veteran's Day in there, 'cause our Armed Forces should be honored and remembered. Valentine's Day is a complete waste of time, with or without a relationship. Another day I could ramble on for hours about.

But other than those, the rest of holidays should just be another black day on the calendar. But for the sake of my son, I reckon I'll play along for a few more years. But once he is able to drive himself to these events, he's on his own.

All my ex's should live in Texas

This weekend was the weekend from Hell when it came to the EX's. I think they should be outlawed. Literally. If you don't have a child with them, they should just *poof* disappear. Well, not mine. One likes to torture me with words, the other one likes to beg. The one who tortures me and calls me a "bad mother" decided it was a good idea to harass me last night. I think it's very impolite to call a person who can NEVER have children again and tell them your new wife is pregnant, especially when the 10 year anniversary of your children's death is in less than a week. Maybe it's just me? Dunno, just kinda think it's mean and spiteful. But I know my son will be a great big brother and I do wish them good luck. Honestly, I really do. The other one, seeing as his only means of communication is writing, decided to write two letters. And of course the first one was begging me not to leave his ass (umm, hello, I'm not the one who is in prison for being a crack head???), and the second one was about my son. I won't go into that one. I got it taken care of.

On to "happier stuff", Thursday we went to my sisters for dinner. Jac, Mama & Terry did not chew Steve up and spit him out. I somehow fully expected them to rip him a new one with questions. I must say they were very polite. Hell, I only caught a few jabs from Terry. Mostly about cooking and me being an airhead. (Yes, I am a self-professed airhead) This morning, Mama told me that she liked Steve because he let her dog sit on his lap. As if he had a choice Anyway, that's kinda nice to know, because so far the two people my Mama has ever liked has been Dale and Tim.

The weekend was good. I have found that you don't come between a man and his computer Steve got to drive the car. And damnit, I was gonna get a picture of it and forgot. Jac was impressed. The last person I let drive it was my Daddy, and I wasn't around to see it. I only got us "lost" once and technically it wasn't lost, I knew the road we was on, I just went in the wrong direction. By the time we got back to his house, I was shivering.

Le got a job. She is going to be working in the kitchen at the Mission Home. Not around knives though. I'm so very proud of her. Damnit, I miss her. I told her the other day, if I thought I could get away with it, I would be gone tomorrow. I'd pack my stuff and go. I'd love to live out there with my Daddy for a while, but I'd really miss my Mama. And I have about a snowballs chance in hell of ever getting permission for Andrew to go with me. But he really, really needs to learn his heritage. There is so much that I can't teach him.
Speaking of Andrew, he's got a crush. The object of his affection is a little girl who he has gone to school with since kindergarten whose name is Brianna. She's a beautiful little girl. He went with me into the store, spotted her, his face went red, he started sputtering, and behind my back he went. I swear, now I know what they are talking about when they say "hiding behind Mama's skirts". I grilled him about it on the way to school and he kept telling me to be quiet. The whole time he denied it, but you could see his little face just light up. Steve told me not to mess it up for him. How could I, his Mama, mess this up for him? **Sigh** my baby is growing up. He'll be 9 in a little over 2 months.

I am going to wrap this up now; just wanted to update everyone on life in my world. At least the world has stopped spinning so fast and I can finally take a look at what is going on around me and enjoy it. About freakin' time. And right now, from where I stand, things are looking pretty good.