From the myspace archive.
I need to learn.
(written February 11, 2007)
I was getting ready for work a couple of weeks ago, when I realized I hated everything in my closet. I was bloated, and nothing looked good. "Uuuugh," I groan, checking out the too tight jeans. "I feel so fat."
Now, the other day, I was planning my outfit around a specific pair of shoes. (Ladies, you understand, right??) Well, I just couldn't find the right shirt. "Uuuuugh," I groan, checking out the latest choice. My daughter walks up to me, and stands beside me observing the mistake.
"Mommy, are you fat again?"
"What?"
"You's belly?" she says, patting my abdomen. "Is you's belly fat again?"
"No, honey. Mommy isn't fat."
"But you were before."
"No, I wasn't."
"But you said 'Uuuugh. I feel fat.' You's belly was fat."
I tried to explain to her how bloating works, but how do you do that in three-year-old terms. She looked at me like I was crazy and simply said "So, you's fat." And promptly walked away to play.
Remind me to watch what I say in front of her.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Questions of Race
My daughter went through a period where she was asking a lot of questions about skin color and gender. It was hard. I reached out for advice from friends, and I'm glad I did. I got lots of great advice. Here are the two blogs around that issue.
Help from other parents, please!
(written January 28, 2007)
Okay, I have an issue that I'm not sure how to handle. I would really appreciate some advice from other parents.
My daughter has been asking a lot of questions about her skin color lately. I suppose that's normal. She started by asking what color she was. I told her she was caucasian. She said "No, Mommy. I'm white." I pointed to the bathroom wall, which is white-white. I asked her what color it was. She said it was white. I held her arm up to it. I asked her if her arm looked white. She said no. I told her again that she was caucasian.
The next instance was with one of my friends. My friend keeps the kids on Saturday so that I can go to my stage combat class. My friend is Latino. My daughter asked me if my friend was black. I said "No, she is Hispanic." My daughter said "Oooohh, she's 'spanic." I asked her if it mattered what my friend was. She said "Yes. She isn't black."
THEN, the one that really made me angry. We were preparing to go to my friend's house once again. Now, my friend has a son about my daughter's age. They have such a great time playing together. He is darker skinned than his mother. I asked my daughter if she was excited to see my friend's son again. She said "Mom. I don't like black boys." I got very angry. I told her I didn't ever want to hear that out of her mouth again. I asked her if the little boy hit her or was mean to her. She said no. I asked her if he was nice to her. She said yes. So, I asked "Well, if he's nice to you, what does it matter what color he is?" She started pouting, knowing I was mad, and wouldn't answer me.
I just don't know what to do. Race does not play a part in my home. I have no idea who is talking to her about this sort of thing. She has many people of all different races around her on a daily basis. I am just not sure how to respond to this sort of talk. I know she has to be curious, and I know she is going to notice the differences between her and her classmates and teachers and so forth. But how do I respond?? Any advice would be much appreciated!!
Update on the Girl Issue
(written February 6, 2007)
In our last episode . . . My daughter has been interested in skin color lately, and finally said to me "Mom. I don't like black boys." Said Mom lost it.
First, I would like to say thank you to the parents who responded, both online and in person. You all gave great advice. You are all absolutely correct that I needed to remain calm and not settle for the "I don't know" answers I was getting from her.
On Monday, I started talking to her about it again. We were getting ready in the morning, one of her favorite times to hang out with me. So, I told her I shouldn't have gotten so angry and that I was sorry for that. I asked her if she remembered what she said and asked her why she said it. I got the "I don't know." I continued to ask if someone had said anything. I talked to her about reasons why she might not like someone, and how she might hurt someone's feelings. Finally, it came out that a little boy in her class has been very mean to her teacher lately. My daughter loves her teacher and has been very upset at the way this boy has acted. He is black. So, I talked to her about how she shouldn't say she doesn't like all black boys. I also talked to her teacher about it, and the teacher said she would talk to her.
So, thank you for the advice guys. This was a load off my mind.
Help from other parents, please!
(written January 28, 2007)
Okay, I have an issue that I'm not sure how to handle. I would really appreciate some advice from other parents.
My daughter has been asking a lot of questions about her skin color lately. I suppose that's normal. She started by asking what color she was. I told her she was caucasian. She said "No, Mommy. I'm white." I pointed to the bathroom wall, which is white-white. I asked her what color it was. She said it was white. I held her arm up to it. I asked her if her arm looked white. She said no. I told her again that she was caucasian.
The next instance was with one of my friends. My friend keeps the kids on Saturday so that I can go to my stage combat class. My friend is Latino. My daughter asked me if my friend was black. I said "No, she is Hispanic." My daughter said "Oooohh, she's 'spanic." I asked her if it mattered what my friend was. She said "Yes. She isn't black."
THEN, the one that really made me angry. We were preparing to go to my friend's house once again. Now, my friend has a son about my daughter's age. They have such a great time playing together. He is darker skinned than his mother. I asked my daughter if she was excited to see my friend's son again. She said "Mom. I don't like black boys." I got very angry. I told her I didn't ever want to hear that out of her mouth again. I asked her if the little boy hit her or was mean to her. She said no. I asked her if he was nice to her. She said yes. So, I asked "Well, if he's nice to you, what does it matter what color he is?" She started pouting, knowing I was mad, and wouldn't answer me.
I just don't know what to do. Race does not play a part in my home. I have no idea who is talking to her about this sort of thing. She has many people of all different races around her on a daily basis. I am just not sure how to respond to this sort of talk. I know she has to be curious, and I know she is going to notice the differences between her and her classmates and teachers and so forth. But how do I respond?? Any advice would be much appreciated!!
Update on the Girl Issue
(written February 6, 2007)
In our last episode . . . My daughter has been interested in skin color lately, and finally said to me "Mom. I don't like black boys." Said Mom lost it.
First, I would like to say thank you to the parents who responded, both online and in person. You all gave great advice. You are all absolutely correct that I needed to remain calm and not settle for the "I don't know" answers I was getting from her.
On Monday, I started talking to her about it again. We were getting ready in the morning, one of her favorite times to hang out with me. So, I told her I shouldn't have gotten so angry and that I was sorry for that. I asked her if she remembered what she said and asked her why she said it. I got the "I don't know." I continued to ask if someone had said anything. I talked to her about reasons why she might not like someone, and how she might hurt someone's feelings. Finally, it came out that a little boy in her class has been very mean to her teacher lately. My daughter loves her teacher and has been very upset at the way this boy has acted. He is black. So, I talked to her about how she shouldn't say she doesn't like all black boys. I also talked to her teacher about it, and the teacher said she would talk to her.
So, thank you for the advice guys. This was a load off my mind.
Silence
From the myspace archives.
Silence
(written January 23, 2007)
Blood is the gift I gave you
And in return
Silence
Like standing naked in snowfall
Waiting for God to arrive
To give me something
Anything to believe in
Besides the pain of each snowflake
Hitting my frozen, bloodless skin.
And I wait
waiting for you to feel my silence.
My silence
Like the sun burning a summer's heat
Melting, fusing me into the ground
So I can feel everything offered
Including you
My blood boiling over
I believe
It must melt your silence.
But all I see
Are footprints left in the snow from when you walked away
Leaving only silence behind.
Silence
(written January 23, 2007)
Blood is the gift I gave you
And in return
Silence
Like standing naked in snowfall
Waiting for God to arrive
To give me something
Anything to believe in
Besides the pain of each snowflake
Hitting my frozen, bloodless skin.
And I wait
waiting for you to feel my silence.
My silence
Like the sun burning a summer's heat
Melting, fusing me into the ground
So I can feel everything offered
Including you
My blood boiling over
I believe
It must melt your silence.
But all I see
Are footprints left in the snow from when you walked away
Leaving only silence behind.
I don't want to be awesome!
From the myspace archives.
I don't want to be awesome!
(written January 18, 2007)
I don't want to be awesome!
(written January 18, 2007)
Today, I picked the kids up from daycare and had to bring them with me to the performance hall. We had a concert tonight and I had a sitter issue (meaning, I didn't have one for the night). So, I'm talking to them in the car about how quiet they will have to be when the music starts. They start telling me how good they are going to be, and how they are going to listen to the music and be very quiet and help me because they love me. Then, they start arguing over who loves me more. This is not a real argument. This is a playful banter that we all get into at least once a day. So, I jump in with "HEY!" Silence from the backseat. "How did you get so awesome??" Again, a moment of silence. Then my daughter, near tears, says "But I don't want to be awesome. I want to be pretty." Was I wrong to laugh so hard?
Sometimes, I'm just not sure.
From the myspace archives.
Sometimes, I'm just not sure.
(written January 17, 2007)
I should start this blog by saying, I'm very sad. If you aren't interested in why, stop reading. Seriously.
I have been trying to call my ex-husband for two weeks. Granted, in two weeks, I've only called twice. But with my first message, I guess I was expecting a call back.
Right now, I have not seen child support in about 6 weeks. When my ex changed jobs, he said that he had called the child support agency to let them know. I expected a delay. After a month, I called the office myself to see what was up. I was told he had never contacted them about a change of employment, and I was asked if I knew where he was working. I told them. Now, it will take another few weeks for all of that paper work to go through and for me to see any money. In the meantime, I'm not sure how I'm going to pay for everything I need to pay for. My bills have fallen behind in order to make sure the daycare is paid on time. That is just one "for instance." I don't think my ex understands that at all. He has no idea how much money it takes to raise two kids. However, the first time I called him, I didn't mention any of this. I kept it to myself because there is a bigger issue that I wanted to discuss with him.
My son is being evaluated for autism. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't scare me. I have been trying to tell teachers about some behavioral quirks that I have seen in my son since he was two years old. In fact, for a time, I worked at a school in New York for children with disabilities. One of the training classes that I had to take was all about autism. I sat through that class shocked that my son showed several traits for it. At the time, he was in speech therapy and I asked his speech therapist about how I might have him evaluated. She said he wasn't, and for me not to worry about it. Since then, I have asked every teacher, therapist and pediatrician he's had about his behaviors and what it might be. I have, at times, mentioned autism. No one has listened to me. I have always been told there is no way he is autistic because he is too social and loving.
Now, he is in kindergarten. He has a speech therapist, a resource teacher, and a regular teacher. He is up for re-evaluation for speech, and there is protocol that must be followed in order for the speech pathologist to do so. The first step is to have a meeting with all of his teachers, the school principal, psychologist, social worker, and the director of special education. After hearing the reports from the teachers and from me, the psychologist said he sounded like a puzzle and asked if she could evaluate him as well because of behavioral issues that seemed to happen frequently in the classroom. The psychologist and the special ed director both mentioned autism as a possibility. Now, they can only look for "red flags" and I would actually have to have him diagnosed by a doctor. But if they find these flags, it sounds like I am going to be on a long journey. Either way, I will be relieved to know for sure and I will know how to handle these behaviors. Like I said, autism doesn't scare me. But I would like the other parent to be involved.
When I left my ex the first message, I told him briefly about the meeting and that our son would be evaluated for flags of autism. That was two weeks ago. No return call.
I know my ex loves his kids. So, why does he back away from them? I know we're a long way away. But he could call. When I call him about something like this, he should at least respond. He should be more involved. Especially when his son thinks the world of him. Everyday, I hear about how tall he's getting - like his daddy. Everyday, I hear how strong he's getting - like his daddy. Everyday, I hear something about his daddy.
Before Christmas, I picked the kids up from daycare and began to drive to a shopping area. I asked the kids what they wanted to get their dad. My daughter immediately said "I don't know." My son thought about it for a few minutes and said "Daddy needs a house." I told him that Daddy had a house, and didn't need another one. My son thought some more, and said "Can we get Daddy a fence with some Christmas lights on it to go around his house?" I told him that Daddy already had a fence around the backyard, but we could get him some lights if that's what he wanted to buy. So, he thought some more. "Daddy needs a car." I told him that Daddy has a car. "What color is it?" "White," I replied. "Well, Daddy needs a green car, like us." I managed to talk him out of buying Daddy a car. So, he thought some more. My ex-husband had come up for Thanksgiving to see the kids. It is the first time he's ever visited here. When he arrived, he wasn't wearing a coat. We all asked him about it, and he said he'd lost it. Finally, I hear a very serious voice come from the back seat. My son said "Can we buy Daddy a coat? It's too cold for him to not wear a coat." My heart melted. "Of course we can buy your daddy a coat." I had to take him to three stores before he found a coat that he wanted to buy his father. I spent way more money than I intended to when we got in the car at the daycare, but it meant so much to my little guy to get a coat for his dad.
Now, when the Christmas fiasco happened, I only explained part of it to the kids. I told the kids that their dad had been in a car accident, which meant his car got hurt and he wouldn't be able to drive up to get us. On Saturday, the kids and I were leaving the gym and my son asked again if we could buy Daddy a new car. I again said that Daddy has his own car. My son said "But you said Daddy's car got hurt and he couldn't drive it." He was very upset with me when I told him that we were not going to buy his father a car.
This is why I'm sad. My son is concerned about his dad all the time. My son is so loving and sweet. My son is the kind of kid who breaks his donut in half to share with his sister because she gobbled hers up in a blink, and then breaks his half in half to share with his mommy who didn't get a donut. If my son had the money, I am positive he would buy his dad a house with a fence and lights to go on it and a green car and the warmest coat he could find. So, why can't his dad even call to ask why his son is being evaluated for autism?
Sometimes, I'm just not sure.
(written January 17, 2007)
I should start this blog by saying, I'm very sad. If you aren't interested in why, stop reading. Seriously.
I have been trying to call my ex-husband for two weeks. Granted, in two weeks, I've only called twice. But with my first message, I guess I was expecting a call back.
Right now, I have not seen child support in about 6 weeks. When my ex changed jobs, he said that he had called the child support agency to let them know. I expected a delay. After a month, I called the office myself to see what was up. I was told he had never contacted them about a change of employment, and I was asked if I knew where he was working. I told them. Now, it will take another few weeks for all of that paper work to go through and for me to see any money. In the meantime, I'm not sure how I'm going to pay for everything I need to pay for. My bills have fallen behind in order to make sure the daycare is paid on time. That is just one "for instance." I don't think my ex understands that at all. He has no idea how much money it takes to raise two kids. However, the first time I called him, I didn't mention any of this. I kept it to myself because there is a bigger issue that I wanted to discuss with him.
My son is being evaluated for autism. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't scare me. I have been trying to tell teachers about some behavioral quirks that I have seen in my son since he was two years old. In fact, for a time, I worked at a school in New York for children with disabilities. One of the training classes that I had to take was all about autism. I sat through that class shocked that my son showed several traits for it. At the time, he was in speech therapy and I asked his speech therapist about how I might have him evaluated. She said he wasn't, and for me not to worry about it. Since then, I have asked every teacher, therapist and pediatrician he's had about his behaviors and what it might be. I have, at times, mentioned autism. No one has listened to me. I have always been told there is no way he is autistic because he is too social and loving.
Now, he is in kindergarten. He has a speech therapist, a resource teacher, and a regular teacher. He is up for re-evaluation for speech, and there is protocol that must be followed in order for the speech pathologist to do so. The first step is to have a meeting with all of his teachers, the school principal, psychologist, social worker, and the director of special education. After hearing the reports from the teachers and from me, the psychologist said he sounded like a puzzle and asked if she could evaluate him as well because of behavioral issues that seemed to happen frequently in the classroom. The psychologist and the special ed director both mentioned autism as a possibility. Now, they can only look for "red flags" and I would actually have to have him diagnosed by a doctor. But if they find these flags, it sounds like I am going to be on a long journey. Either way, I will be relieved to know for sure and I will know how to handle these behaviors. Like I said, autism doesn't scare me. But I would like the other parent to be involved.
When I left my ex the first message, I told him briefly about the meeting and that our son would be evaluated for flags of autism. That was two weeks ago. No return call.
I know my ex loves his kids. So, why does he back away from them? I know we're a long way away. But he could call. When I call him about something like this, he should at least respond. He should be more involved. Especially when his son thinks the world of him. Everyday, I hear about how tall he's getting - like his daddy. Everyday, I hear how strong he's getting - like his daddy. Everyday, I hear something about his daddy.
Before Christmas, I picked the kids up from daycare and began to drive to a shopping area. I asked the kids what they wanted to get their dad. My daughter immediately said "I don't know." My son thought about it for a few minutes and said "Daddy needs a house." I told him that Daddy had a house, and didn't need another one. My son thought some more, and said "Can we get Daddy a fence with some Christmas lights on it to go around his house?" I told him that Daddy already had a fence around the backyard, but we could get him some lights if that's what he wanted to buy. So, he thought some more. "Daddy needs a car." I told him that Daddy has a car. "What color is it?" "White," I replied. "Well, Daddy needs a green car, like us." I managed to talk him out of buying Daddy a car. So, he thought some more. My ex-husband had come up for Thanksgiving to see the kids. It is the first time he's ever visited here. When he arrived, he wasn't wearing a coat. We all asked him about it, and he said he'd lost it. Finally, I hear a very serious voice come from the back seat. My son said "Can we buy Daddy a coat? It's too cold for him to not wear a coat." My heart melted. "Of course we can buy your daddy a coat." I had to take him to three stores before he found a coat that he wanted to buy his father. I spent way more money than I intended to when we got in the car at the daycare, but it meant so much to my little guy to get a coat for his dad.
Now, when the Christmas fiasco happened, I only explained part of it to the kids. I told the kids that their dad had been in a car accident, which meant his car got hurt and he wouldn't be able to drive up to get us. On Saturday, the kids and I were leaving the gym and my son asked again if we could buy Daddy a new car. I again said that Daddy has his own car. My son said "But you said Daddy's car got hurt and he couldn't drive it." He was very upset with me when I told him that we were not going to buy his father a car.
This is why I'm sad. My son is concerned about his dad all the time. My son is so loving and sweet. My son is the kind of kid who breaks his donut in half to share with his sister because she gobbled hers up in a blink, and then breaks his half in half to share with his mommy who didn't get a donut. If my son had the money, I am positive he would buy his dad a house with a fence and lights to go on it and a green car and the warmest coat he could find. So, why can't his dad even call to ask why his son is being evaluated for autism?
I'm a Winner! (or not)
From the myspace archives.
I'm a Winner! (or not)
(written January 8, 2007)
Right now, I am sitting at my computer. I hurt all over, my hair is a mess, and I have five gold stars stuck across my chest. Why? Because according to my daughter, "You's a winna, Momma."
I hurt all over because I've been working out like a crazy woman, and I went to the gym with a friend. I've worked muscles that I don't get in my normal routine. So, I'm convinced that I need to join an actual gym rather than doing this at home all the time. However, that is beside the point right now. It seems like basic training for Mommy-hood. I need to be strong, fit, tough, have the energy of ten three-year-olds . . . Until you are lifting said three-year-old with sore abs, arms, thighs . . . groan . . .
My hair is askew because I have been snuggling in bed with my kids, reading and having quiet time together this evening. I couldn't take watching another Disney movie and I wasn't up for playing games after a full day of taking my daughter to work so I could leave and take her to a doctor's appointment then go pick up her brother and head home to make dinner and put away the laundry I folded last night and clean and . . .
Taking my daughter to work today was great on one hand. I love having the time with my kids. She is such a good girl, and played quietly by my desk all day. Still, I was constantly distracted by the "Mommy?" "I have to go potty." "Can I have a snack?" "Did you bring my other coloring book?" I got very little done in the few hours I was at work today, but I felt more exhausted than normal upon leaving at half day. Then, off to the doctor for my daughter. She's had a bit of a cold for about two weeks now, but it has been getting much better. In the last few days, I have barely noticed anything at all. However, she began telling me her ears hurt. Better safe than sorry, I took her into the doctor only to be told she's fine. Sigh . . . Since my girl was hungry and had been so good at both my work and at the doctor, I treated her to her favorite meal, pepperoni pizza. After we finished eating, we headed back toward home to pick up my son from his after school daycare. He was napping when we arrived. He was so knocked out, I had to carry him to the car. He's getting so big. I won't be able to pick him up like that much longer. And did I mention, I hurt all over? At home, we sat down to go over the contents of my son's backpack.
Afterward came dinner. I made omelets. Now, as far as I can remember I have loved omelets, but I have been largely unsuccessful at making them. They turn into scrambled eggs with stuff in it. However, thanks to a friend of mine treating me to breakfast last weekend (smooches! thank you!), I decided I needed to give it another shot. So, I did. And the omelets came out beautifully. I put them on my children's plates. My daughter says "What's this?" My son promptly replies "Eggs with stuff in it." I was crushed. My first real, beautiful omelet and it was still just eggs with stuff.
After that, we read quietly snuggled in my bed. I read a short story from a collection I'm reading right now. The kids flipped through their own books. When I was finished with my story, I read each of their books aloud to them. When that was done, I laid out toothbrushes and jammies and let them get ready for bed. My daughter got ready quickly and came to sit with me in the office while I was checking email. She got out a card and a pen and started scribbling, telling me she was writing her name. Then she starts singing a song about what a pretty, nice mommy she has. My heart melted for a minute. Then, my son reared his ugly anti-bedtime head. I went into battle. When I returned, my daughter was singing that I was a winner and started putting gold star stickers all over my chest. She handed me her fairy wand, telling me I was a winner and I got to keep her wand. My son stood in the office doorway, smiling. I smiled back. My daughter turned to her brother and said "Mommy is a winner. Isn't she?" My son just looked at me and said "No. I don't want to go to bed."
Sigh . . .
I'm a Winner! (or not)
(written January 8, 2007)
Right now, I am sitting at my computer. I hurt all over, my hair is a mess, and I have five gold stars stuck across my chest. Why? Because according to my daughter, "You's a winna, Momma."
I hurt all over because I've been working out like a crazy woman, and I went to the gym with a friend. I've worked muscles that I don't get in my normal routine. So, I'm convinced that I need to join an actual gym rather than doing this at home all the time. However, that is beside the point right now. It seems like basic training for Mommy-hood. I need to be strong, fit, tough, have the energy of ten three-year-olds . . . Until you are lifting said three-year-old with sore abs, arms, thighs . . . groan . . .
My hair is askew because I have been snuggling in bed with my kids, reading and having quiet time together this evening. I couldn't take watching another Disney movie and I wasn't up for playing games after a full day of taking my daughter to work so I could leave and take her to a doctor's appointment then go pick up her brother and head home to make dinner and put away the laundry I folded last night and clean and . . .
Taking my daughter to work today was great on one hand. I love having the time with my kids. She is such a good girl, and played quietly by my desk all day. Still, I was constantly distracted by the "Mommy?" "I have to go potty." "Can I have a snack?" "Did you bring my other coloring book?" I got very little done in the few hours I was at work today, but I felt more exhausted than normal upon leaving at half day. Then, off to the doctor for my daughter. She's had a bit of a cold for about two weeks now, but it has been getting much better. In the last few days, I have barely noticed anything at all. However, she began telling me her ears hurt. Better safe than sorry, I took her into the doctor only to be told she's fine. Sigh . . . Since my girl was hungry and had been so good at both my work and at the doctor, I treated her to her favorite meal, pepperoni pizza. After we finished eating, we headed back toward home to pick up my son from his after school daycare. He was napping when we arrived. He was so knocked out, I had to carry him to the car. He's getting so big. I won't be able to pick him up like that much longer. And did I mention, I hurt all over? At home, we sat down to go over the contents of my son's backpack.
Afterward came dinner. I made omelets. Now, as far as I can remember I have loved omelets, but I have been largely unsuccessful at making them. They turn into scrambled eggs with stuff in it. However, thanks to a friend of mine treating me to breakfast last weekend (smooches! thank you!), I decided I needed to give it another shot. So, I did. And the omelets came out beautifully. I put them on my children's plates. My daughter says "What's this?" My son promptly replies "Eggs with stuff in it." I was crushed. My first real, beautiful omelet and it was still just eggs with stuff.
After that, we read quietly snuggled in my bed. I read a short story from a collection I'm reading right now. The kids flipped through their own books. When I was finished with my story, I read each of their books aloud to them. When that was done, I laid out toothbrushes and jammies and let them get ready for bed. My daughter got ready quickly and came to sit with me in the office while I was checking email. She got out a card and a pen and started scribbling, telling me she was writing her name. Then she starts singing a song about what a pretty, nice mommy she has. My heart melted for a minute. Then, my son reared his ugly anti-bedtime head. I went into battle. When I returned, my daughter was singing that I was a winner and started putting gold star stickers all over my chest. She handed me her fairy wand, telling me I was a winner and I got to keep her wand. My son stood in the office doorway, smiling. I smiled back. My daughter turned to her brother and said "Mommy is a winner. Isn't she?" My son just looked at me and said "No. I don't want to go to bed."
Sigh . . .
Bah Humbug!
From the myspace archives. A rant from a really crappy week.
Bah Humbug!
(written December 28, 2006)
I am pissed. I really need a lot of shit off of my chest. So, right now, I'm going to rant. I'm going to rant like I've never ranted on this stupid blog. It will be a stream of consciousness blog, so ride the raft if you dare to. There will be white rapids crashing over huge fucking boulders. There will be lots of spelling mistakes and cut of sentences and no paragraph breaks. Because I am pissed and I am going to let it all out. Right here, right now. On the fucking blog. Blogging. What the fuck is up with the fucking BLOG anyway?? I mean, I can talk to all of you, or I can post a "private" blog on the internet? Oxymoron, anyone?? Anyway. How is it that I feel like I have no one to talk to right now, and yet I can talk to everyone on the myspace network with one little click on a button?? What is wrong with us? Where have we lost that connection to other human beings?? I interact with my computer more than I interact with the people I love. Why? Because they are all on the computer!! I find it much easier to write an email than to call. Why?? Because I don't want to bother them! WHY?? I DON'T KNOW! But I know when I pick up a phone, I feel like I'm suddenly a huge intruder into someone's personal space. I feel like they are cringing to hear the phone ring. I'm perfectly happy to have anyone call me at anytime. I don't get why I feel like a nuisance to everyone around me for using the telephone. But maybe that's why no one calls me. Does everyone feel that way now?? I'm begging, anyone who reads this, CALL! I miss you! I miss your voice! Just fucking call! I'm tired of knowing the font you prefer better than I can recognize your voice! If you don't know me, pick up the phone and call someone you DO know! Unless, of course, you are calling to yell at me. I've had enough shittiness this week. Christmas day in fact. I've had more than one woman should have to stand. While, I know that ex-husbands are EX's for a reason, I still find myself surprised at how shitty mine can be. First I should day that the Commonwealth of Virginia sucks goat balls. They can't get it right. They are half-wits. All government workers. If you don't live in a commonwealth now, for the love of GOD, don't move to one! If you are living in one now (that would include Virginia, Massachusetts, Kentucky and Pennsylvania) I strongly urge you to leave. Bunch of god damned socialists run it all. And if you study history at all, you know a god damned socialist government DOES NOT WORK. Communism is a hugely failed experiment. WHY?? Because it gets stuck in the SOCIALISM stage and bloody revolutions happen to bring it back to a democracy or some other dictatorship. Anyway, to get back to reason number 925467785874466492149 that the fucking Commonwealth of Virginia sucks is that I have not received child support in a month. This is not the fault of my ex. No, truly, it is not. He changed jobs. He alerted the Child Support office. He did everything he was supposed to do. It has taken them WEEKS to do the paperwork on it. So, no child support. We were supposed to travel to Virginia to see my family and then the kids were to stay with their dad for a week while I came home to Rhode Island. Because Rhode Island is my home! A STATE! Where we all know who REALLY runs things and money talks. In Spanish. But nevertheless it still talks. Anyway, my ex told me he would help me pay for said trip. He told me this a month ago. Now, while I was not initially excited to have to make that trip. I mean, who is really ever up for a 9 hour drive (and that's with amazingly good traffic, and no construction in Connecticut - snerk)? Not this woman! But I booked the car the day after my ex told me he would send extra money for this trip. And I started to get excited. My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago. She's held on longer than the time the doctor gave her. For all I know, she'll be around next Christmas. But the fact is, I hear her voice on the phone, and I know she's getting more and more tired. I know she won't be around next Christmas and I wanted to be there this year. I grew up with my father saying on a daily basis "Damn women. I can't wait to have you all out of my house." Lord knows, the road has been rocky with my father. But when it comes down to it. I love him. He's my Daddy. I called to wish him a happy birthday the week before Christmas, and he actually said to me "I'm really looking forward to having all of my children and grandchildren at home for Christmas this year." My father has never said anything like that to me, and it brought tears to my eyes. I got emails from everyone in my family about how excited they were to see me. And my favorite aunt and uncle decided to make the trip from Kentucky to be there at Christmas when I was supposed to be there. So, all this build up, and I'm sure you can see where this is going. My ex fell through with the money. Now, I have to say, that honestly wasn't his fault either, but how he handled it, I blame him for. He changed jobs shortly after he told me he would send me money. The new job held his paycheck until the second pay period. That put a major crimp in his cash flow. But did he bother to call me about what was going on? NO! I happened to try to contact him at his old job (the only number I had for him) because of my son's report card (that rant to come) only to be told he no longer worked there. So, I did the only thing I could think of and that was to email his mother. I told her that I needed to talk to him because if he wasn't going to have the money for the car, I needed to make other arrangements. The last thing I heard was that he would take care of it and for me not to worry. So, I didn't. A few days before we were supposed to leave, I was calling every chance I got to see what was up. He told me they were still holding his paycheck, but that he should be able to get a couple hundred to send to me. Next thing I know, he's telling me he decided to have a tire and rim put on his car so he wasn't riding around on the spare anymore, and he had to use the $200 he had to do that. Okay, I might be a woman, but I'm not a fucking idiot. I know damn good and well that a USED - not even NEW - tire and rim are NOT going to cost $200. Or he really got screwed. I mean, ass raped with no lube. End result: No money sent to me to go to Virginia. So, then, he gets into a car accident. WHY? Oh, Karma is a bitch. That's why. This solid gold used tire blew and he wrecked the car. KARMA. Fucking Karma. So, now he's just pissed at the world, but I'm the closest thing to lash out at. His mother offered to drive to meet me halfway and take the kids down to Virginia. I can't tell you how thankful I was. I have really been looking forward to this break for a long time. I have really loved the thought that I could finally trust their dad enough to keep them for an extended period of time. I really wasn't worried. I kept thinking how great it would be for both the kids AND their dad. Real bonding time that has been sorely missed, especially by my son. She told me she would meet me and that she would bring the kids back whenever I wanted and that she would make sure they saw my family. I was excited. But after missing Christmas at my parents' house, I at least didn't say anything to the kids. All kinds of issues came up in the meantime. It seemed like no one down in Virginia knew where the kids would be staying. His mother is really ill and when I stopped to think, was wondering how she would make that drive twice. But the major issue became when the kids would be back. No one could get them back or even meet me halfway again until January 6. My son would miss an entire week of school. Not acceptable. Especially after the report card he brought home. (Here is were I will have the report card rant.) My son is functioning below the appropriate level in 38 out of 39 areas. When I had a conference with his teacher about this, I find out that it is because she is giving him timed tests. Timed VERBAL tests. MY SON HAS A FUCKING SPEECH DELAY!!!!! How the fuck can this woman totally ignore that he has an issue like that?? He has an IEP and has two resource teachers. She is giving him literally ONE minute to name all of his uppercase and lowercase letters as she points to them. That's 52 letters. That's roughly 1 second per letter. My poor son can't get the words out of his mouth that fast! But I do flash cards at home with him. He knows the stuff she says he doesn't. We read together all the time. He's picking out small words. We were picking up pizza tonight and he said "What does p-i-z-z-a spell?" Don't tell me this kid isn't learning!! Funny thing is, the other two teachers both think he's progressing quite well and think he's a great kid. What do I hear from his classroom teacher? That his BEHAVIOR is improving. And she freely admits that she has taken to telling him that she can't understand him and doesn't have time for it. EXCUSE ME?? I had enough sense not to deck the bitch in the face. So, when she blew me off telling me she needed to move on to her next meeting (after a whole 7 minutes of her time had gone by), I decided to make an appointment with the principal. Until I have that meeting, it is important that my son be in school and continuing to work. When school starts back on January 2, he can't be out for that entire week! I said I would be willing to work with a day, but not 4. How can I go to the principal saying that the teacher isn't doing the right thing when it comes to my son, when they can turn right back around and ask me why I'm letting him skip a week of school? I can't. That's what. So, I ended up telling my ex that if no one could meet me earlier than that, we were just staying home. He was of course mad. But he took responsibility for getting us down there when I could have done something about it. He screwed up. I'm tired of covering for him and bending over backwards to make him happy. He hasn't done that for me, god knows! I just find it funny that I have managed to get down there THREE times this year and I've gotten down without a hitch. But the one time it is up to him, it is all messed up. Figures. But in his mind it is all my fault and I'm the one being unreasonable. He tells me "If this is the way it's going to be, Leann, we need to have something written in the court. . ." "EXCUSE ME??" I raise my voice at him. "How is this MY fault?" "DON'T YOU YELL AT ME, BITCH." This is where I hung up the phone. I also was so upset that I called back to scream into his answering machine "HOW DARE YOU! MAYBE IF YOU BEEN AROUND FOR THE LAST FUCKING FIVE YEARS, THINGS WOULDN'T BE THIS HARD, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Granted, this was not my finest moment. But I get threatened with court from a man who didn't even call us for over a year at one time? I get threatened with court from a man who I had to cover for when my two-year-old daughter came home from daycare holding a Father's Day craft she made and asked me "Mommy, who is MY daddy?" I get threatened with court from someone like that?? I have worked my ass off to raise these kids! I have done everything I can for them. I have worked three jobs at a time just to put food on the table at certain times. I have worked jobs I hated and hated getting out of bed to go to. But I did it for them! And he has the nerve to call me a bitch and threaten to take me to court on Christmas day?? HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THEY ASKED SANTA FOR!! How could I have ever loved him so much? And how did it all end up here? Where I can't stand the thought of him sometimes. Where I'm so hurt and bitter, I'm afraid I'll poison any other love I may ever come across. IF I can find anyone worth my time. Which brings me to another point I'm pissed over. MEN. They don't fucking get it. I mean, since my husband and I split, I have had two rather serious relationships. One, I was engaged to, and I knew when I said yes that I was making a mistake. I managed to grow a brain before that happened. Then, I shut myself off. My second relationship grew out of a fun time. We would go out, we would have fun. I thought nothing of it ever being more than that, until one day it was. I woke up in the middle of the night to hear him whispering he loved me. He thought I was asleep, and I pretended I was. I realized that I could love him back, so I started letting myself love him. And then it was gone. So, I continued to date. Now, I moved to Rhode Island with basically a suitcase of clothes and a box of toys. I now have an apartment filled with more crap than I need, and I'm slowly decorating it to my taste. I'm much more financially stable and my life feels as normal as you can get for working in the performing arts. I'm for the most part happy. I know I don't need a man in my life. But it sure would be nice to have one. I'm not talking marriage. I'm not sure I want to go there ever again. That may change, but I'm not ready and I'm not sure there's a man out there that I would want to be with until the day one of dies. I'd hate to be standing at the poor man's grave thinking "Well, thank God! It's about time!" But I do miss being held at night. I miss some to rub my back when I've had a rough day. I miss making love. Not sex. You can get a fuck anywhere. I miss love. But what I've realized is that because I do want it, I'm probably pushing to hard for it. I do like someone. No where near in love, please don't get me wrong. But like. Like I turn into a highly annoying giddy school girl. I commented on this to a friend last week who told me it was probably a good thing that I turn into someone with half of my normal mental capacity while around this man because I'm so intense I would run him away. Apparently, I am not for the faint of heart. Apparently, I have some intensity about me that I don't really notice. I've written about this before, so I won't go on. But I feel damned if I do and damned if I don't. I don't want a man who would want my retarded alter ego, and I don't think this man does. Really, there has been a massive slow-down in communication between us. I can't tell if it is the holidays or disinterest, but really IT FUCKING SUCKS! This goes back to where a phone call would be nice. A "Hey! Are you free Saturday night?" would be great! But even if I got a big "Hey, I read your blog and I'm just calling to say fuck off and leave me alone" I would be happy. At least I would know. I just don't get men. Or lack of communication. Or communism. I also don't get why we decided black matches everything or why I can't own a pair of shoes for every outfit I own or why people feel they have to be politically correct all the damn time or why people don't try to get to know each other. For those of you reading this far, I'll give you some random facts about myself so you can get to know me better. I love calla lilies. I love the ones that are read and fade into this lush yellow in the middle. They make me smile every time I see them. I never really made a decision to go into performing arts. I used take so many classes, I ended up with a major in theatre and I was behind on my primary major (English Lit), so the life kind of chose me. But if you know me, you know I don't regret it. My given name is Cristen Leann. I dropped the Cristen in favor of my last name because I have never in my life gone by Cristen. I have always been Leann. Why? Give me a call. I'll tell you
Bah Humbug!
(written December 28, 2006)
I am pissed. I really need a lot of shit off of my chest. So, right now, I'm going to rant. I'm going to rant like I've never ranted on this stupid blog. It will be a stream of consciousness blog, so ride the raft if you dare to. There will be white rapids crashing over huge fucking boulders. There will be lots of spelling mistakes and cut of sentences and no paragraph breaks. Because I am pissed and I am going to let it all out. Right here, right now. On the fucking blog. Blogging. What the fuck is up with the fucking BLOG anyway?? I mean, I can talk to all of you, or I can post a "private" blog on the internet? Oxymoron, anyone?? Anyway. How is it that I feel like I have no one to talk to right now, and yet I can talk to everyone on the myspace network with one little click on a button?? What is wrong with us? Where have we lost that connection to other human beings?? I interact with my computer more than I interact with the people I love. Why? Because they are all on the computer!! I find it much easier to write an email than to call. Why?? Because I don't want to bother them! WHY?? I DON'T KNOW! But I know when I pick up a phone, I feel like I'm suddenly a huge intruder into someone's personal space. I feel like they are cringing to hear the phone ring. I'm perfectly happy to have anyone call me at anytime. I don't get why I feel like a nuisance to everyone around me for using the telephone. But maybe that's why no one calls me. Does everyone feel that way now?? I'm begging, anyone who reads this, CALL! I miss you! I miss your voice! Just fucking call! I'm tired of knowing the font you prefer better than I can recognize your voice! If you don't know me, pick up the phone and call someone you DO know! Unless, of course, you are calling to yell at me. I've had enough shittiness this week. Christmas day in fact. I've had more than one woman should have to stand. While, I know that ex-husbands are EX's for a reason, I still find myself surprised at how shitty mine can be. First I should day that the Commonwealth of Virginia sucks goat balls. They can't get it right. They are half-wits. All government workers. If you don't live in a commonwealth now, for the love of GOD, don't move to one! If you are living in one now (that would include Virginia, Massachusetts, Kentucky and Pennsylvania) I strongly urge you to leave. Bunch of god damned socialists run it all. And if you study history at all, you know a god damned socialist government DOES NOT WORK. Communism is a hugely failed experiment. WHY?? Because it gets stuck in the SOCIALISM stage and bloody revolutions happen to bring it back to a democracy or some other dictatorship. Anyway, to get back to reason number 925467785874466492149 that the fucking Commonwealth of Virginia sucks is that I have not received child support in a month. This is not the fault of my ex. No, truly, it is not. He changed jobs. He alerted the Child Support office. He did everything he was supposed to do. It has taken them WEEKS to do the paperwork on it. So, no child support. We were supposed to travel to Virginia to see my family and then the kids were to stay with their dad for a week while I came home to Rhode Island. Because Rhode Island is my home! A STATE! Where we all know who REALLY runs things and money talks. In Spanish. But nevertheless it still talks. Anyway, my ex told me he would help me pay for said trip. He told me this a month ago. Now, while I was not initially excited to have to make that trip. I mean, who is really ever up for a 9 hour drive (and that's with amazingly good traffic, and no construction in Connecticut - snerk)? Not this woman! But I booked the car the day after my ex told me he would send extra money for this trip. And I started to get excited. My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago. She's held on longer than the time the doctor gave her. For all I know, she'll be around next Christmas. But the fact is, I hear her voice on the phone, and I know she's getting more and more tired. I know she won't be around next Christmas and I wanted to be there this year. I grew up with my father saying on a daily basis "Damn women. I can't wait to have you all out of my house." Lord knows, the road has been rocky with my father. But when it comes down to it. I love him. He's my Daddy. I called to wish him a happy birthday the week before Christmas, and he actually said to me "I'm really looking forward to having all of my children and grandchildren at home for Christmas this year." My father has never said anything like that to me, and it brought tears to my eyes. I got emails from everyone in my family about how excited they were to see me. And my favorite aunt and uncle decided to make the trip from Kentucky to be there at Christmas when I was supposed to be there. So, all this build up, and I'm sure you can see where this is going. My ex fell through with the money. Now, I have to say, that honestly wasn't his fault either, but how he handled it, I blame him for. He changed jobs shortly after he told me he would send me money. The new job held his paycheck until the second pay period. That put a major crimp in his cash flow. But did he bother to call me about what was going on? NO! I happened to try to contact him at his old job (the only number I had for him) because of my son's report card (that rant to come) only to be told he no longer worked there. So, I did the only thing I could think of and that was to email his mother. I told her that I needed to talk to him because if he wasn't going to have the money for the car, I needed to make other arrangements. The last thing I heard was that he would take care of it and for me not to worry. So, I didn't. A few days before we were supposed to leave, I was calling every chance I got to see what was up. He told me they were still holding his paycheck, but that he should be able to get a couple hundred to send to me. Next thing I know, he's telling me he decided to have a tire and rim put on his car so he wasn't riding around on the spare anymore, and he had to use the $200 he had to do that. Okay, I might be a woman, but I'm not a fucking idiot. I know damn good and well that a USED - not even NEW - tire and rim are NOT going to cost $200. Or he really got screwed. I mean, ass raped with no lube. End result: No money sent to me to go to Virginia. So, then, he gets into a car accident. WHY? Oh, Karma is a bitch. That's why. This solid gold used tire blew and he wrecked the car. KARMA. Fucking Karma. So, now he's just pissed at the world, but I'm the closest thing to lash out at. His mother offered to drive to meet me halfway and take the kids down to Virginia. I can't tell you how thankful I was. I have really been looking forward to this break for a long time. I have really loved the thought that I could finally trust their dad enough to keep them for an extended period of time. I really wasn't worried. I kept thinking how great it would be for both the kids AND their dad. Real bonding time that has been sorely missed, especially by my son. She told me she would meet me and that she would bring the kids back whenever I wanted and that she would make sure they saw my family. I was excited. But after missing Christmas at my parents' house, I at least didn't say anything to the kids. All kinds of issues came up in the meantime. It seemed like no one down in Virginia knew where the kids would be staying. His mother is really ill and when I stopped to think, was wondering how she would make that drive twice. But the major issue became when the kids would be back. No one could get them back or even meet me halfway again until January 6. My son would miss an entire week of school. Not acceptable. Especially after the report card he brought home. (Here is were I will have the report card rant.) My son is functioning below the appropriate level in 38 out of 39 areas. When I had a conference with his teacher about this, I find out that it is because she is giving him timed tests. Timed VERBAL tests. MY SON HAS A FUCKING SPEECH DELAY!!!!! How the fuck can this woman totally ignore that he has an issue like that?? He has an IEP and has two resource teachers. She is giving him literally ONE minute to name all of his uppercase and lowercase letters as she points to them. That's 52 letters. That's roughly 1 second per letter. My poor son can't get the words out of his mouth that fast! But I do flash cards at home with him. He knows the stuff she says he doesn't. We read together all the time. He's picking out small words. We were picking up pizza tonight and he said "What does p-i-z-z-a spell?" Don't tell me this kid isn't learning!! Funny thing is, the other two teachers both think he's progressing quite well and think he's a great kid. What do I hear from his classroom teacher? That his BEHAVIOR is improving. And she freely admits that she has taken to telling him that she can't understand him and doesn't have time for it. EXCUSE ME?? I had enough sense not to deck the bitch in the face. So, when she blew me off telling me she needed to move on to her next meeting (after a whole 7 minutes of her time had gone by), I decided to make an appointment with the principal. Until I have that meeting, it is important that my son be in school and continuing to work. When school starts back on January 2, he can't be out for that entire week! I said I would be willing to work with a day, but not 4. How can I go to the principal saying that the teacher isn't doing the right thing when it comes to my son, when they can turn right back around and ask me why I'm letting him skip a week of school? I can't. That's what. So, I ended up telling my ex that if no one could meet me earlier than that, we were just staying home. He was of course mad. But he took responsibility for getting us down there when I could have done something about it. He screwed up. I'm tired of covering for him and bending over backwards to make him happy. He hasn't done that for me, god knows! I just find it funny that I have managed to get down there THREE times this year and I've gotten down without a hitch. But the one time it is up to him, it is all messed up. Figures. But in his mind it is all my fault and I'm the one being unreasonable. He tells me "If this is the way it's going to be, Leann, we need to have something written in the court. . ." "EXCUSE ME??" I raise my voice at him. "How is this MY fault?" "DON'T YOU YELL AT ME, BITCH." This is where I hung up the phone. I also was so upset that I called back to scream into his answering machine "HOW DARE YOU! MAYBE IF YOU BEEN AROUND FOR THE LAST FUCKING FIVE YEARS, THINGS WOULDN'T BE THIS HARD, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Granted, this was not my finest moment. But I get threatened with court from a man who didn't even call us for over a year at one time? I get threatened with court from a man who I had to cover for when my two-year-old daughter came home from daycare holding a Father's Day craft she made and asked me "Mommy, who is MY daddy?" I get threatened with court from someone like that?? I have worked my ass off to raise these kids! I have done everything I can for them. I have worked three jobs at a time just to put food on the table at certain times. I have worked jobs I hated and hated getting out of bed to go to. But I did it for them! And he has the nerve to call me a bitch and threaten to take me to court on Christmas day?? HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THEY ASKED SANTA FOR!! How could I have ever loved him so much? And how did it all end up here? Where I can't stand the thought of him sometimes. Where I'm so hurt and bitter, I'm afraid I'll poison any other love I may ever come across. IF I can find anyone worth my time. Which brings me to another point I'm pissed over. MEN. They don't fucking get it. I mean, since my husband and I split, I have had two rather serious relationships. One, I was engaged to, and I knew when I said yes that I was making a mistake. I managed to grow a brain before that happened. Then, I shut myself off. My second relationship grew out of a fun time. We would go out, we would have fun. I thought nothing of it ever being more than that, until one day it was. I woke up in the middle of the night to hear him whispering he loved me. He thought I was asleep, and I pretended I was. I realized that I could love him back, so I started letting myself love him. And then it was gone. So, I continued to date. Now, I moved to Rhode Island with basically a suitcase of clothes and a box of toys. I now have an apartment filled with more crap than I need, and I'm slowly decorating it to my taste. I'm much more financially stable and my life feels as normal as you can get for working in the performing arts. I'm for the most part happy. I know I don't need a man in my life. But it sure would be nice to have one. I'm not talking marriage. I'm not sure I want to go there ever again. That may change, but I'm not ready and I'm not sure there's a man out there that I would want to be with until the day one of dies. I'd hate to be standing at the poor man's grave thinking "Well, thank God! It's about time!" But I do miss being held at night. I miss some to rub my back when I've had a rough day. I miss making love. Not sex. You can get a fuck anywhere. I miss love. But what I've realized is that because I do want it, I'm probably pushing to hard for it. I do like someone. No where near in love, please don't get me wrong. But like. Like I turn into a highly annoying giddy school girl. I commented on this to a friend last week who told me it was probably a good thing that I turn into someone with half of my normal mental capacity while around this man because I'm so intense I would run him away. Apparently, I am not for the faint of heart. Apparently, I have some intensity about me that I don't really notice. I've written about this before, so I won't go on. But I feel damned if I do and damned if I don't. I don't want a man who would want my retarded alter ego, and I don't think this man does. Really, there has been a massive slow-down in communication between us. I can't tell if it is the holidays or disinterest, but really IT FUCKING SUCKS! This goes back to where a phone call would be nice. A "Hey! Are you free Saturday night?" would be great! But even if I got a big "Hey, I read your blog and I'm just calling to say fuck off and leave me alone" I would be happy. At least I would know. I just don't get men. Or lack of communication. Or communism. I also don't get why we decided black matches everything or why I can't own a pair of shoes for every outfit I own or why people feel they have to be politically correct all the damn time or why people don't try to get to know each other. For those of you reading this far, I'll give you some random facts about myself so you can get to know me better. I love calla lilies. I love the ones that are read and fade into this lush yellow in the middle. They make me smile every time I see them. I never really made a decision to go into performing arts. I used take so many classes, I ended up with a major in theatre and I was behind on my primary major (English Lit), so the life kind of chose me. But if you know me, you know I don't regret it. My given name is Cristen Leann. I dropped the Cristen in favor of my last name because I have never in my life gone by Cristen. I have always been Leann. Why? Give me a call. I'll tell you
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