Mother's Day Dearest

 

It's a different day and age,

Yes I know this, I'm not an idiot, and I do pay attention, but one thing that I keep seeing as a reoccurring theme in the new generations? 

How their mom destroyed them. 

Every little microbe of them. 

No credit for design and implementation, just the destroying.

My mom was a different breed.  Did I hate her at times?

Of course, I was a teenager once too.

But never in my years did I blame anything within my life, short of high cholesterol, my mom's fault.

the list of unacceptable Mom behaviors:

alcoholic, smoker, multiple husbands, partier, dancer ( what we would call exotic now), uneducated in a sense, and fighter.

That was my mom.

She also was:

Funny as fuck, hard worker, willing to try anything, dancer, common sense filled, great friend to many, care taker, housewife, and a mom that was there every day. 

So I sit and reflect on my accomplishments and my failures, my vices and psychosis.

They are all mine and my individual choices.  I never really smoked. I can thank  her for that.

Do I drink...yup....but that is all me.  Do I make mistakes with my kids?

Hell yeah, but that is me too.  

My mom was the best advice giver and if I didn't listen, that was on me. I never, and still don't, blame her for my life. I actually give her credit for much of it.  Could she have been better and done better?

Who knows? I don't care.  I miss her. I made it to adulthood.

On this Mother's Day maybe we should give a little honest thought to her. She did not cause your distress. We all make our own decisions and are often aware of the consequences of a choice long before we commit to it.  So, maybe we should start putting blame where it is deserved. Poor decision making.

**don't get me wrong

I know many bad things happen to young young children which is out of their realm of ability to change the situation as it happens.  What maybe we can change is how we move forward in our lives as older teens and adults.

It is nice to have someone to blame for life's shortfalls

but instead, think about how you can move around it.

You can always pick a new "family" 

let go of old habits and stressors, even if it involves current family.

Be strong in your decisions and attitudes and stop blaming and start changing the outcomes one step at a time.

I have met many moms who get blamed, and I will bet they were doing their absolute best with the information and skills they had at the time.

remember, we didn't have accessible mental health care like this generation does.

We/They did what they could.

Let's Celebrate the Effort of Mom.

and maybe do a little forgiveness on this day.

xo,

m

Linda Blair

Your Falafels are fine…
Mine are fine…yours are fine.  Just eat.   I don't want to be here all night.

But they taste burnt.

Olive, they are fine…they are fried, not burnt.

I sip my wine, and wait, and wait, and wait.

"Mom, Olive has so much food in her mouth she can't swallow it", Ilin says.

Jeesus Christ, I think to myself.  Why can't anything be easy?  What the hell is wrong with these kids?  They are making me nuts, driving me to drink more than even my liver wants, and they are sucking the life out of me mentally.
I glance over as Olive's cheeks are about to explode, eyes bulging from her head.

Damnit Olive…just eat it, quit playing around!

Ilin's giggling and trying to look unamused.  Olive has a big tear hanging from the corner of her eye.

I look away and take a big gulp of 5$ wine, which I have plopped an ice cube in.
Vacation sounds good.  mmmmmmbeach.  I look at the TV in the Falafal place.  X Games are on.
There is a 12 year old kid who just did a back flip on a motorcycle.   My kids can't eat a proper meal with out choking.  great….Great job I did.

Olive excuses herself to the bathroom where I assume she spits the food into the toilet.  I gulp the remainder of my wine.
Let's get outta here.  I wanna get home and sit…just sit and knit.

Home is hot.  It's been 103 here all week.  Dry and miserable and even more without air-conditioning.  The fires make the air hard to breathe.  We all just melt into the furniture for a while then I say its time to hit the hay.
My bedroom is hotter than hell.  Above the garage with no wind to cool it.  Even with the fan and nakedness I'm still burning up.  I fall asleep sweating, cranky and tired.

MOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!

What was that?  Ilin!  What was that noise.
wait, I know that noise…what
Oh My Effin God….no…

MOMMMMMMMMMM, Olive is Yaking every where!….

Fuck…fuck …arggghhhhh…

The spray was phenomenal.  Epic at best.

Her bed was covered.  It was sprayed on the wall (i followed the path), on the fuzzy pink rug she loves so much, onto the hardwood, into the hall, onto the new carpet "The new FUCKING CARPET!!!!!!",
on the wall in the hall, into the bathroom, in the bathroom drawer(which just happened to be open),in the tub, then she obviously remembered we puke in the toilet….which is where she was, head draped over the dirty toilet bowl.

"Goddamnit!, Fuck!  Come ON!  What the…. I don't want to cleant this shit up!"
My eyes filled with tears as the anger filled in my body.  True anger.
I looked at Olive who looked at me with tears, gasps, and a true apologetic look of fear.
How can I feel like this?  I could hear the curse words streaming from my mouth, unable to slow them, let alone stop them.
My head raced with every old lady crotch I wiped that day.  Every old man set of balls I powdered.  The messes I cleaned all day.  Nursing kindness I established with each of my patients through out the day.

I walked from the bathroom, took a deep breath, then turned around.  "I'm Sorry, Olive"
"Mammoo, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was going to happen"
"yes, I know"

I got the mop, steam cleaner, vacuum, and sponge.  Turned the shower on and put her in it as I started to clean.  I'm a bad, bad mom.  I know that.  
"here's a washcloth…use soap."

I cleaned it…I sprayed the febreeze, I took deep soothing breathes to right my mind….then I spent the rest of the night, holding Olives head and telling her I love her and her saying the same thing to me, and secretly praying this is not the one thing she remembers.  How awful her mom treated her when she threw up all over the house….Even though her mom is a nurse.

xo,
m

Need vs Want with a teen.

"I need a phone..."

What for, Ilin...you have no friends and you never talk on the phone.

"Well, I would if I had one."

NOOOOOO, what you mean is you would play Angry Birds on the phone.  You don't really need a phone.

"Well, Dad said he's getting me one"

Of course he did...BECAUSE!!!!....2 months ago when I asked him if he would get Ilin a phone he said ," I'm not getting him a phone just because you guys have decided to get rid of your land lines"  

ok then...

So, I dwelled on it. I decided if Ilin gets the Youth Corp job I would get him a phone for graduating 8th grade and getting his first job.  I would add him onto my plan...give him a low end phone and see how he does.  I let his father know this was my plan....secret.

Yesterday at dinner he says, "Dad's getting me a DROID"  (as he was giving me that angry 14 year old look)  

what?  what did you just say?  

"I saaaaiiiiddddd, Dad is getting me a Droid.  He's knows of this plan where its just 25$ a month and he said you guys can split it."  

I calmly sat my fork down and readjusted my head from spinning around backwards.

that fucker....

(I didn't say that)

Ilin, what do you need a 250$ phone for?  

"so, I can call people"

jeesus christ.  This is coming from a kid who won't even leave the house to walk down the street to see a friend....really...to call people....?

No you are not...I SAID, you would be getting a small non fancy phone to prove you are responsible enough to have a phone, then we will talk about it....plus I'm not splitting anything...Actually, if he wants to take the responsibility he can do the entire thing.

"Fine...I'm gonna tell him that"

Arrrrrghghghghg, you lil shit.

he put his dishes in the dishwasher and went to email his dad.

Now, once again, I look like the jackass.  damnit.  

But I don't have a DROID...why does he get a Droid?  He can barely change his underwear without prompting....

Today

is not one of my favorite days.

Bad Mom, then I recovered

oops, at least she can't see it...

so we decided to cook out, and the grill ran out of propane, so we pulled out the standby.

talk about ghetto...

But I made up for it with Homemade Oatmeal Raisin Cookies from "Smitten Kitchen" blog.

yummy (although I felt they could have used chocolate chips)

And because OUR fireworks were basically rained out, Bobby purchased $14.99 of fun in a box, state approved, so somewhat boring, but when you are performing for a 6 year old, they haven't a clue

Boom chuckalucka!!!

Friday we leave for Michigan with 3 kids, 2 dogs and an 18 hour drive. woop wooop