Aside from being alone my first Christmas as mommy because my husband was a fucktard…I was also incredibly friggin broke.
I had been trying to sell my house, Id already sold the car back to the dealer and anything else of any value had been pawned.
I was working but I wasn’t able to keep up with a house, car, daycare etc on what I was making.
I bawled the day I knew I had to go into that welfare office and apply for assistance.
My whole body ached with misery and self loathing.
How the hell did I let this happen?! What was I going to do now?! I was losing my house, had lost my car, I kept sinking deeper and deeper…the light of a new day grew dimmer and almost vanished entirely.
The thought of Christmas…..gifts…..being THIS broke was enough to make me vomit.
Granted all parents want to give their kids glorious gifts and granted not many of us can but at this point I wasn’t able to give my child ANYTHING under the tree.
Sure, shes a baby, she wont even remember…..but I will, I still do.
That Christmas haunts me…..
Do you have any idea how gut wrenching it is to know that you—mommy—cant give your child any gifts at all…shit you can barely keep food in the cupboards!
Since I had surrendered to welfare a few months prior to Christmas I was eligible for a “holiday basket”….ya know those Toys for Tots drives?
Yeah…without that…my daughter would have had absolutely nothing for her first Christmas.
I was incredibly grateful to have been able to receive the basket of food and toys but at the same time I was so ashamed.
I remember sitting in the church where the basket drive was being held with my head hung low…I was so nervous being there I could of thrown up on the old woman next to me.
I made my way thru the line…picking up toys for my daughter when I saw her….a nurse I worked with was a volunteer at the church…..she also had no idea I was having any “issues” at home.
She looked at me with that sad look that you get when people feel sorry for you….I hate that look.
When I left the church with my basket I got into my car and sobbed until I ran out of tears.
I went to work that afternoon with the worst headache, a sad heart and my best “Im fine” face.
I was to depressed and ashamed to let anyone know what was going on in my life…..I shut them out….I just wanted to be left alone….or so I felt……
Sometimes I feel like a different person.
When I’m in that “funk”
mood, it’s as if the part of me that thinks “ok things will be
alright, I got this shit” is pushed so far down it can’t be
reached…sometimes I doubt that part of me is even there.
It’s lost
somewhere among the thoughts that seem to haunt me.
I feel lost,
alone…forgotten.
Thoughts and feelings of inadequacy…fears and
uncertainties weigh heavy on my heart, mind and soul.
The weight can
seem too much for one person to carry…and far too much for one person
whose hands are already full of baby…even if I survive this…then
what? Where is my life going? Is this as good as it gets?
It’s such a
challenge to be positive when you’re certain the world is out to get
you…when you’re certain you’re never going to get a break…you’re
certain you’re alone in this world….someday the only things I’m
sure of is that I’m alone & I’m not happy-I can’t kick this heavy
feeling of disappointment…an overwhelming cloud of gloom & doom
completely engulfs my heart, my mind…suffocating my soul. To the
point where I’m not sure about anything in my life…nothing seems
right…uncomfortable from the constant anxiety….one thing after
another day after day constantly knocking me back down into reality
and severing any shred of ability I had to look on the bright side.
The constant feeling of disappointment and hopelessness is a wretched
feeling. One that I don’t want to burden the world with so there are
days I’m not only certain I’m alone and always will be but I’m also
certain that’s probably a good thing.
This misery doesn’t want
company. I wouldn’t want anyone else to feel what I feel.
Most of all
I worry about the PIT. She’s always around me…I can try my best to
put on a brave face and take on the world with a smile but she knows when
something’s bothering me. She’s intuitive…she picks up on vibes
quickly…I don’t want to pass on this vibe.
I hate to admit this but
it wasn’t that long ago I felt certain the PIT would be better off
without me. Certain I was not the best thing for her….certain I
didn’t deserve her…certain I’d just fuck her up & ruin her for life.
It’s a horrible feeling of inadequacy. Unpleasant feelings and anxious
worry keep me up some nights. How can I possibly teach my child to
love life if I don’t?
I can’t stand the idea that the PIT might
currently feel the way that I felt as a kid or might one day end up
feeling the same funk that I feel…a feeling I’ve become far to
accustom to. The funk that I worry I’ll never beat. The funk that I
worry makes me too much of a hassle to love or even bother with. The
funk I worry might infect my little girl.
I probably sound crazy right now but let’s face it-I am. Normally I
would lock myself in the bathroom to cry and chain smoke…still chain
smoking but I’m not locked in the bathroom…I’m not sure if this is
progress or not considering I generally don’t share these feelings
probably for good reason….
There are endless challenges in the adventures of parenting for all of us. Single parenting a rambunctious and inquisitive little girl is a challenge I take on and quite enjoy daily.
She’s a fascinating little person and she’s absolutely gorgeous. Long dark hair, big brown eyes, the longest lashes I’ve ever seen and a stunning complexion.
She looks nothing like her blonde hair, blue eyed pale as a corpse mother. She looks like her Lao “father” who isn’t in the picture anymore at all and hasn’t been since she was 18 months old.
It’s been the two of us for as long as she can remember and she never questioned why we looked different. But then again, she refers to people by the color of their shirt, not their skin.
In fact she was about 5 when she asked me “momma why do I look like I should speak Spanish?“
I knew the day would come when she would ask me why our skin isn’t the same color or why I have blue eyes and she doesn’t, but I did not see the “look like I should speak Spanish” part coming at all.
It’s difficult enough to try and explain the concept of biracial to a 5 year old but now I had to explain the difference in Hispanic versus Asian only for her to look at me and say
“whatsa Asian?” (see what happens when dads aren’t around)
feeling overwhelmed and certain I was going to royally eff this up & permanently damage my child….it took me a minute to wrap my mind around what she had said.
“What’s Asian?!” Christ! I felt horrible like ok wtf cc?! She’s Asian…doesn’t know it or what it is. She’s five. How does your biracial baby not know about her races?!
*The answer to that is simple—Im not asian & Ive just been raising her like a regular kid….
And then it occurred to me….perhaps I hadn’t done so bad after all.
I mean, clearly race has never been an issue for her & I. Obvious differences between us were unquestioned up until now.
That’s the way it should be I guess…not a big deal if someone’s different.
If only I could convince the rest of the world…..
Im not able to convince the world, all that I can do is raise my girl to be a respectful and considerate human being…..and I must say…..that she is
“Where you used to be,
there is a hole in the world,
which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime,
and falling into at night.
I miss you like hell.”
Quote from Edna St. Vincent Millay
Dear man begging for change at the corner wearing the Columbia jacket (that looks fairly new) holding a sign that says “BROKE, PLEASE HELP”,
Piss off.
I’m not buying it dude.
We’re all broke…..except…..your coat is way better than mine…my broke ass is wearing a hand-me-down coat.
You are standing on the corner in a Columbia jacket…….
You’re getting no sympathy from me homie.
The only difference between you & I is that you have a sign. And a warmer coat.
Tonight a commercial for the super bowl came on and for some reason that triggered a flood of memories that felt so fresh, so real…..I felt a chill down my spine as the chill of the feelings of that day…the way I felt that day.
Eight years ago to the day. 2-2-02.
Memories both good and bad of joy and sorrow all poured over me like a cold rain.
I felt it.
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2-2-02:
It was the day before the super bowl.
I remember that so well because it was the super bowl where the Patriots played someone and the Patriots were sure to lose so my meth addicted husband placed a bet against the Patriots.
This one…..
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The American Football Conference (AFC) champion New England Patriots (14–5) win their first Super Bowl by defeating the National Football Conference (NFC) champion St. Louis Rams (16–3), 20–17, as kicker Adam Vinatieri made a game-winning 48-yard field goal as time expired. The Rams had been 14-point favorites to win the game, making the Patriots’ victory one of the biggest upsets in Super Bowl history.
Mhmmmm….and he had bet a shit-ton of money on that game. Which is probably the logic thing to do when you’re out of work and tweeked outta your fucking mind….
The day before that Super Bowl game I had my regularly scheduled weekly fetus check. Still on bedrest….still not working…bored out of my mind and rather depressed I was SO hoping to find out if the fetus was a boy or a girl. I had worked at the hospital during my pregnancy….I had access to nurses and ultra sound machines….and I totally abused that access:) I started trying to find out what sex the fetus was going to be at 13 weeks gestation. Early, yes, Im impatient damnit! 2-2-02 at 33 weeks along the little shit FINALLY cooperated with me and revealed her lil vajj! So many emotions surged through my already hormonal and unstable mind….in all honesty…I had ‘planned’ on the fetus being a boy. Seriously, what the hell do I know about being a girl besides most of the time it pretty much sucks ass?! I suck at being a girl. To this day, I still do not own a dress. Why? What the hell am I going to wear it with? My sneakers? Oh yeah-one pair of shoes. I hate shoes. I was freaking the fuck out. I dont know what to do with a girl?! Holy fuck…now Im really in over my head!
(right, because having recently found out your husbands a meth addict & your in preterm labor isnt quite in over my head)
I left the appointment still a little bit in shock. I honestly didnt think I was going to have a girl. I was totally rooting for a boy.
(Looking back, I blame the hormones.)
I went home and just sat on the couch…the house was quite well except for the pups playing…other than that I was alone.
As I had been for most of the pregnancy.
In some ridiculous attempt to try and provoke my husband into “daddy” mode I called him to tell him that he was having a daughter and I dont know what I expected I guess…..not facing the reality of what your husband has become can seriously cloud ones thinking.
No you know what. Fuck that. I do know what I was expecting. I was expecting a “YAY!!!” or “Lets go buy something PINK” or some sort of joy…some sort of reassurance that this was going to be ok…some sort of connection–I expected him to feel something.
Instead, when I told him the fetus was a girl he simply replied “Oh. Ok. Is there anything else? Im in the middle of a card game.”
Really?!
”Alright well since you asked motherfucker yes there is something else. GO FUCK YOURSELF.” and I hung up the phone so pissed I was shaking…so pissed I threw the phone and scared the bejesus outta the pups who I honestly did not see there. So pissed all I could do was cry. So I did. I cried for hours as the reality set in….that son of a bitch is too far gone. There’s no feeling left…i dont know that man…I dont want him anywhere near me or MY daughter. I cried myself to sleep that night…..
The next day I went out and bought my first pink baby blanket. I felt a little bit better as I put the pink blanket into my “time to birth this baby” bag.
I was having a girl!!
I had no idea what to do with a girl but I also was clueless about raising boys. Im glad the Lord gave me a girl….that girl….MY girl.
The girl who is now snorring on the couch behind me in a pink Vikings jersey (she was the only one upset by their loss btw…) and the kitten Jake Maxwell snuggled up under her arm.
I think he’s comfortable….I hope shes not choking him! It does sorta look like shes got him in a headlock….I better check on that…
Back to that day in 2002….I still hadnt heard from mr meth and with that he fueled the fire which eventually burned any ties between us. He actually called on Super Bowl Sunday to tell me cry to me about the thousands of dollars he had lost on that game to a certain druglord thug that is the kind of thug you’re going to pay back. No “how ya feelin?”, “hows the fetus?” nothing….just Im in trouble….that was just the start of a long line of “Im in trouble” moments and disappointment that I could have done a lifetime without……
PS–Jake Maxwell IS breathing. It wasnt a chokehold afterall
“She lives for an audience”
its a quote from a comment left by Brae (thank you!) on my last post “She’s braver than her Momma” and its a comment that sparked memories of the PIT’s best “audience” moments.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The PIT was about 4 years old at the time.
I had taken her to the local mall to play at the indoor playground because its effing cold in Minnesota.
I watched as the PIT climbed on the jungle gym and played on the pirate ship.
I watched the PIT who was on top of the pirate ship now and I knew that look she had in her eyes….she was up to something.
She was looking across the playground but I couldnt tell what she was looking at.
The PIT jumped off the pirate ship and dashed around the playground.
Not sure what the hell she was up too I followed behind her.
I watched my daughter who had been playing so nicely all by herself, run….jump in front of a little girl and vogue
while the little girls gramma, holding a camera, looked on with the same “what the hell?!” look on her face.
How does one explain and or apologize for their child literally stealing the shot?!
I dont know, thankfully the little girls gramma had a bit of humor and started to laugh.
”Someone likes the camera!” She said
”Yeah…shes cute and apparently she knows it” I said
I took the PIT by the hand, we both apologized for the interruption and went on our merry way.
I realized that day that I had created an incredibly cute monster…
…Im still paying for it today!
Ha!
However, these days the PIT is not shot-blocking any children at the playground.
She had found a new audience!
Every other Tuesday she “volunteers” at the nursing home near her school.
Its basically a dream come true for the PIT….an audience that cant run!
This week was a BIG week for the PIT.
Monday she gave the most overdramatic, emmy award winning meltdown when she discovered the hermit crabs were dead.
I couldnt even tell you how long theyve been dead, those things are mcfuckin nasty, I have nothing to do with them, dead or alive, icka.
Im not even sure the PIT could tell you how long they’ve been dead.
They were fun at first but she lost intrest in them after a while.
Plus-theyre gross.
So, before we left Monday morning she discovered the dead crabs and has this massive meltdown over the death of pets she hadnt acknowledged in weeks…we’re off to a great start this week.
Already running late we didnt have time to “address” the dead crab issue before school.
That evening when we returned home it was time to get rid of em.
I had planned on just throwing the cage and all in the trash.
Apparently the PIT had other ideas.
She wanted the crabs to go into their own bag and then they could go in the trash.
“Alright whatever floats your boat baby” I said “Get em out and in the bag then”
“ME?!” she shrieked
“Im not touching those things girly”
“I dont think I can momma” she said with the best puppy dog eyes she could give me
“Im not touching them. If you want me to take care of them I will but Im not touching them”
“Then how are you going to take care of them?”
“Im going to dump the cage in the garbage can darling”
“NOOOOOO” she whined “Ill go get some gloves”
**this outta be good**
The PIT comes back gloved up and ready to get the dead crabs out of the cage….or so we thought. She hadnt even touched one and started to freak the eff out.
“I cant do it mom I just cant do it” she said
**This is where most moms would have comforted their kid and gloved up to get the crabs out for them. Not me**
“What? What do you mean you cant?” I asked
“I cant do it mom I cant”
“You cant touch a dead crab that you let crawl all over you when it was alive?!”
Puppy dog eyes again but she tried again. She grabbed one and almost had it out of the cage….and then its legs fell off. THAT went well.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh I cant do it mom”
“Ok then let me dump it out”
Fire in her eyes she grabbed a seashell and attempted to scoop the dead and now broken crab out of the cage….more legs fell off
“Ok forget it mom. Ill dump it.” she said
And with that she picked up the cage and dumped it all into the trash.
“Check it out brave girl…you did it. You took care of them yourself even though you got scared” I said
a big smile comes across her face “I sure did” she said as she slaps me a hi-five.
………………………………………………………………………….
Thursday was the Imagination Fair at the PITs school.
This was the first year she had decided to enter.
She worked for weeks with Auntie TayTay to create a paper mache’ volcano.
The painted it and added trees, rocks and a dinosaur! They worked on a poster featuring different facts about volcanos.
Thursday night on the way to the Imagination Fair the PIT says “Im not talking about my volcano”
“Why” asked TayTay
“Im too nervous!” the PIT squealed implying DUH
“What are you nerous about? Do you want to practice what you’re going to say?” I asked
“No! I dont want to talk!” she screamed
“Well, part of the project is the presentation. Tay & I will be right next to you if you need help. You’ll do great” I said
“No I wont! Im never signing up for this ever again. Do you know how scarey this is?!” the mini susan lucci said with a hair toss
“No. Actually I dont. I was never brave enough to do anything like this in school. I only wish I had been brave like you…” I said
“You never tried?” she asked “Im going to try momma”
“Atta girl”
Auntie TayTay and I spent most of the evening at the Imagination Fair trying to figure out where the PIT ran off too.
My scared little girl was a social butterfly but would she give the presentation?
Mhmm she sure did!
She answered the judges questions and explained how she had made the volcano out of paper mache’ and how she was going to make it errupt.
a little crowd of little kids surrounded the PIT and her volcano as she set up for eruption.
Her eyes lit up and the kids “ooo-ed and ahhh-ed” at the “lava” shooting out of the volcano.
She was so proud…..but her momma was prouder.
I hope she never forgets how to be so brave. She will never forget how proud I am of her.
If this funk Im in had a theme song….this would be it.
Plus-its a great song even when Im not in a funk
Shimmer by Fuel
She calls me from the cold
Just when I was low, feeling short of stable
And all that she intends
And all she keeps inside, isn’t on the label
She says she’s ashamed
And can she take me for awhile
And can I be a friend, we’ll forget the past
But maybe I’m not able
And I break at the bend
We’re here and now, but will we ever be again
‘Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away again
She dreams a champagne dream
Strawberry surprise, pink linen and white paper
Lavender and cream
Fields of butterflies, reality escapes her
She says that love is for fools who fall behind
And I’m somewhere in between
I never really know
A killer from a savior
‘Til I break at the bend
It’s too far away for me to hold
It’s too far away…
Guess I’ll let it go
An important and yet often forgotten concept….
CONSIDERATION
- the process of giving careful thought to something
- circumstance: information that should be kept in mind when making a decision; “another consideration is the time it would take”
- a discussion of a topic (as in a meeting); “consideration of the traffic problem took more than an hour”
- kind and considerate regard for others; “he showed no consideration for her feelings”
- retainer: a fee charged in advance to retain the services of someone
- a considerate and thoughtful act
**Pay attention sunshine–you’re not the only one in this universe. Dont make me bitchslap you already…its only Monday**
