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1 AM

It is 1 am.

I want him.

My rage has peaked. My sorrow is set. I want him.

There is this man I know. He is not my husband. I am ashamed to say it.

There is this man. He has long dark hair and eyes cast in shadows. I want this man now. It is 1 am and I am tired and burned. I seek to curl up in his arms. I seek him like flame craves dragons breath.

I want this man. He is evasive to me unless I try to find him. This man is no friend of mine, he is no love.

He is what I want and I want him now.

I will go and curl up next to my husband and I will pretend that this night has not been like so many others.

This night of cold again and pain again and loneliness again.

I will go now and lay next to my husband. But inside I will burn for this man I want.

He will never know how much I dream, ache for, love, admire, hope for and crave this man. My husband will never know. Thank God.

Thank God my husband does not know.

Thank God he does not know that he is this man I want.

It is 1 am. I am tired and aching. I want my love.

It is 1 am. I want Brandon.

It is 1 am. I am going upstairs to sleep beside the man of my dreams.

Thank God he knows.

MY One.

My All.

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Are you a good parent? Am I?

Today as I was walking through the store with my family. A woman, who was an employee approached me.

She had witnessed me, point blank , tell my son after a quick tantrum; ” You will not raise your voice to me, I am your mother.” This was all that I said and my son responded with an apology.

The female employee said with a smile;

” I was just telling another girl what a good mother you are. So many mother’s let their children run wild without respect for other people.”

This, to me, is completely foreign. I have never once thought I was a good mother. I stress over details, discipline, encouragement and as most parents do; when do I get myself back? My child is a constant struggle. A very dear friend told me as of late “The nut cracker works fine, you just have a hard nut to crack”.

This woman in the store admired my approach to child rearing, if you can still call it that. I felt very good, for once about motherhood. Everyone about seems to think I am a good mother, I however disagree. I could be faster, better, smarter, stronger.

Inside of my heart I love my boy, who questions me and tells me I am wrong. He challenges me constantly and while it drives me to madness it also blooms proud in my spirit. I am rasing him as I promised I would.

My rules:

1) I will accept my child no matter what or whom he has decided to become.

2) I will love him completely regardless of any circumstance.

3) I will discipline him for any disrespect of another being, be it animal or human.

4) I will always hold him to his word.

5) I will never tell him a lie.

These are the rules I wrote in my diary long before he was born. I have kept them all. I do not think I am a good mother. He is only four and there is much more to come for him. How he sees me now as an “authority”  that will some day change into an “understanding”. I only want to ask of him what I ask of myself. I seem like a harsh mother, but perhaps the woman at the store has given me a new understanding. I was a black sheep child… who struggled against all that was handed to me. Maybe my real purpose in life is to raise this “unexpected” child. To make him my better? Maybe this is what all of us parents are meant to do?

To love and live for, even if we are judged harshly, our children.

The hardest nut of all.

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Work Vs. Home

I believe there are many people out there, be man or woman who would rather stay at home than work. I have tried this “housewife/houseman” method. For me, I completely disagree. I pay respect to any man or woman who can competently handle this day to day life of taking care of the “homestead”, for I cannot.

Work Vs. Home. I beg anyone, be you psycho or loon to counter this blog and write for Home. I write for Work and this is why. Challenge me people will you?

I have done the dishes.

Work – People are shocked at my willingness to do their dishes, to “better” the work environment and save them a moment of dish pan hands. I am praised.

Home – Cannot see the kitchen as the dishes have piled up past the sink and are crusted with egg yoke.

I have swept/vacuumed the floor.

Work – Wow, we pay “outside” people to do that. You just saved us serious money and the customers are not slipping on M&M’s. I have just boosted customer/employee safety and saved the company money by doing something myself. I am very competent. I am praised.

Home – Do we own a broom? BTW, where did those M&M’s go?

I have put the inventory away by myself.

Work – I have placed all products on the shelves, cleaned and managed thousands of dollars worth of merchandise. I am praised.

Home – Did you put the groceries away?

I have controlled expired merchandise.

Work – I have just saved the company hundreds of thousands of dollars over a very serious law suit involving an expired pregnancy test, condom and/or medication. I am praised.

Home – Was the bacon bad? Really? Are you SURE the bacon was bad?!

I have care for a lost child.

Work – “Thank you so much for taking care of my son, he just slipped away from me.” I am praised

Home – “Shut up mom!”

I have arrived at work early.

Work – I am showing great promise and my time management is above expected. I am praised

Home – Everybody is still asleep and I am forging for expired bacon.

I have handled a customer’s very serious complaint competently.

Work – I have taken a customer’s very difficult situation and “righted” it for them resulting in a repeat customer that now trusts me. I am praised.

Home – Did you buy center cut peppered bacon this time!?

I have set up the entire Halloween display.

Work – It took me hours to do this display and it looks beautiful. I am praised.

Home – I could not find a place for the fake spider webs as there are too many real ones. And yes, they are full of spiders and yes, they hiss when faced with the broom.

Two of my employees have called in sick.

Work – I have compensated for missing employees and run two separate departments while managing the store, I have gone beyond the call of duty. I am praised.

Home – There are TWO toilets in this house, you know.

I have received a raise.

Work – My management skills are above and beyond, I have been very successful and shown that I am a very dedicated and powerful worker. The company loves me. I am praised.

Home – My husband got a  raise.

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Fletch Lives!

I just had a very LARGE breakthrough. Dispolar Biorder still holds true. However if you know me you know I am very… sensitive.

Tonight, after seven years, my husband managed to track down a soundtrack for me. I love the movie the soundtrack comes from, it was an old family movie (Fletch). My mom and dad use to watch this movie all the time. These memories I have been “hiding” are not of rape, not of pain, not of destruction. The memories I have been hiding are of my family and this soundtrack reminded me of all the days I lived unafraid and whole. All my days as a protected dreamer. Yes, my mom stroked my head and we barbecued and so much more.

Fire works on my birthday… My dad coming home to us… So much joy.

The three of us. We really kicked ass. I have been hiding the good memories. I have been hiding the greatest times of my life. I have been hiding US. Three musketeer’s, think twice, we were better. The “black sheep” son, the neglected brilliant daughter, the child they had. Me. I have been hiding them, I have been hiding me.

I made a pact. If my father or mother ever died, I would die. I have been holding the promise. I have been slowly killing myself for seven years. I promised if my dad ever died I would die and I am, it took seven years but I am. Seems my brain remembers. I would rather be dead with him then stay with the lot of you.

If I did really die, I would have to take my mother with me (guess I should talk to her about that first).

I did not understand until listening to this album and remembering the three of us. Both of my parents were separate from their family. They made their own family. The word “special” does not really cover what we were. I was raised by two of the best people that have ever, and may ever exist.

I did not see it before. I guess it really is love. I have one foot in the grave. One foot on the plot. I won’t leave them. Either of them. I am going with them. Even if it tears me in two.

I think I understand God now.

My heart is light tonight. At least now, I know. I am not full of shit. I am just keeping the promise I made to myself years ago.

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My son’s naked butt

The morning is always a unclear time, before the coffee kicks in and the brain starts to function I am always confused. What will the day bring, what will we do, how often will I call my husband at work? I wake and am greeted by three black cats, one whom presently has his paw in my mouth, a moaning, drooling husband and a child who has shed his diaper and is going commando around the house. Did I really think it was going to be like Doris Day? I think I did. Where are the singing birds? Why isn’t my hair and make-up perfectly done? Plastic scrambled eggs and a house that shows no evidence of a family ever having been there. No, not for me. Runny scrambled eggs, burnt toast, hungry cats, confused husband and my son’s naked butt.