Monday, October 10, 2016

The First Stage Of My Grief-The End Of My Happily Ever After

I don't know how I can do this.  How do I close my eyes and rest without you beside me?  How do I learn to control my fears and anxieties that you always gently erased in me?  How do I ease my frustrations without you here to just do the next right thing?  As a matter of fact, how will I know what the next right thing to do even means?

I've lost more than a husband.  I've lost more than a best friend.  I've lost more than a partner.  I've lost so much more than any of these words could ever describe.  Your soft, gentle touch.  Your warmth, all around me, all of the time.  Your special way of telling me that I'm being too much of an asshole while loving me anyway.  Your attempt at sarcasm that always lightened my mood and my eyes.  The look on your face when you were serious, angry, happy, afraid, ashamed, relaxed, relieved, felt love, proud.  The special things that only you and I know.  The secrets we share.  Yes, I have the memories, but this pain is unbearable.  You were my rock.

You not only loved me to my very core, you loved my daughters with such fierceness that can only be described as parental.  You were a real DAD.  It may have been a short time, but you loved us in a way that we had never felt, and will never even try to find again.  For there was only one Scooter.  There could never be another man who could ever show us the passionate love that you had for family.

The soft forehead kisses, the hard hungry kisses, the blown kisses.  Please don't forget that I still need these from you.  Even in my dreams.....please don't leave me.  Please don't leave us. Tell me what I should do?  I'll recognize your signs, Hunny.

This pain is too much.  If you were here, you would hold me and soothe my hair as I sob uncontrollably into your warm chest.  You would pull my face to yours, look me right in the eye, and promise that you would fix this or at least protect me from it.  I need you.  We all need you.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Opinions. Everyone has an asshole.





*DISCLAIMER:  I'll be using the word 'opinion' about seventy-eleven times in this particular post.  If you don't like other people's 'opinion' then you should probably exit stage left right now.  This whole post is about ME and MY 'opinion', so please be aware that you've been properly warned.

Now let me open a Miller Lite and get to it.

I've hurt people online with my opinions.  I'm not sorry for that, because I had no intention of hurting anyone by not agreeing with them.  I didn't attack anyone.  I didn't offer anything other than my own opinion.  I will never feel bad for feeling like I do on any given subject. I'm too old for that shit.  I've had too many people in real life who tried to get me to conform  to their ideas.  Not gonna happen.  I do what I want and say what I want.  You don't agree with me, that's cool.  I don't agree with you, and that should be cool with you.

"Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one."


I don't have a lot of fucks to give these days.  I'm busy with life.  I don't wish anyone harm, and I don't wish anyone sadness.  I don't like it when I see someone who's going through a hard time because I've been through a ton of hard times myself.  I can promise you that if I give my opinion on any given subject it's because it's a very important subject to me.  I have no underlying motive, either.


I believe in the things that I believe in, and you believe in the things that you believe in.  That's cool with me.  I don't give a shit.  No matter what you say, or how many times you explain yourself, I won't be changing my stance on something if it's my own personal conviction.  I'll listen and respect your take on any certain subject respectfully, but it's highly unlikely that a disagreement will change my mind.  Internet trolls be damned.  I feel this way for a fucking reason.  You can explain yourself until you're blue in the face.  You can play like my opinion hurts your feelings if you want. My opinion is MINE.  My opinion is just as important as anyone else's.  Yours is important to you and mine is important to me.  Just because I have an opinion different from yours doesn't mean that you're being attacked or belittled.  On the contrary.  If you feel attacked or singled out by someone else's opinion then you should probably change shoes, as it doesn't have anything to do with me.

"If the shoe fits, wear it."


When someone posts something that not everyone agrees with, there are bound to be disagreements.  Especially if it's something controversial.  But looking at a certain person in a negative way just because they don't think exactly like you doesn't make you a victim. You're not a victim of internet bullying just because someone doesn't like what you said, or your grammar, or your parenting skills, or anything else you may claim.  You can't pull the victim/bully card just because someone doesn't like you or they disagree with you.  You don't have the power to change another person's mind.  Maybe you saw that you could have been able to make more of an effort to better your own situation and got your feelings hurt.  No one is responsible for your feelings or actions but you.  What I do online is my business, just like what you do online is your business.  When I ask for opinions, I expect a variety of opinions.  I don't care if someone doesn't agree with me.  I don't get angry when someone doesn't agree with me, either.  When I share my opinion I'm just doing it where it's appropriate, where opinions of varying degree are welcomed or asked for.  Unless I call your name then you're not the one I'm talking about.  Get over yourself.  You're not that important to me.  I've got way too many things on my mind to be caring if you agree or not.  If you don't agree, you're welcome to state your opinion just like I am and move on.  That's how most grown ups do it, anyway.


"Ain't nobody got time for that."


We all have busy lives with our own household to run.  The 'poor me' attitude of someone who feels attacked by a difference of opinion is a thing of the past.  I don't run around the internet trying to put other people down.  I don't think I'm better than another person who I may or may not know.  I don't discriminate against any soul that dwells on this Earth.  We're all facing our own demons.  I care about living and letting someone else live.  I don't care what you're going through, I'll respect you until you disrespect me.  You're no different than I am.  We're all struggling to have a happy life no matter what circumstances we've been dealt.  I feel empathy when I can, and sympathy for those that deserve it.


"We're all the same inside."


If I offer advice it's because I've been through some shit.  It's because I know a little bit about the lessons I've learned in MY life.  It's an opinion.  You can take it.  You can leave it.  You can get your panties in a bunch and show your ass all over the interwebs, it doesn't matter to me.  It doesn't matter to your audience, either.  If you set out to hurt someone over YOUR butthurt, then you'll only be hurting yourself.  You can't make people stick around and enjoy you if you're always dragging up shit that hurt your feelings.  Doing that only makes people run away from you.  If you want people to like you, then you should at least be likable.  Most likeable people aren't whiny little pussies, in MY opinion.


"Only the strong survive."


You could have a different opinion than I have about anything from the most comfortable socks or undies we wear, to religion and politics and parenting.  I don't care what your opinion is, it still won't change mine.  That doesn't mean that you have a license to pull the 'I'm being bullied' card.  It means we don't agree, there's nothing wrong with not being in agreement with someone.   Leave it as a disagreement, move on, and let shit go.  If some people can agree to just disagree then those people are the ones who are taking the higher road.  No harm, no foul.  Disagreements should never be the reason for a shit-storm.


"Let's just agree to disagree."


Time for this old Hussy to step outside of the crazy and maybe drink another beer.  Who's with me?


Wednesday, August 19, 2015

An Open Letter To The Absent Parent





When thinking about the absent parent of my youngest daughter, I tend to fill with rage.  I'm not normally an angry person, but the man makes me go straight up ape shit with his tactics and incompetence at being a decent human being.  So, here's a few things I'd like to address just for him.

Dear Sperm Donor,

Thank you very much for the gift that is my child.  She's the best thing that ever happened to me.  My gratitude for you goes no farther than that.

She is eleven years old.  You've spent one Christmas with her in that eleven years.  You've been to one of her birthday parties in that eleven years.  You bought her one bag of diapers before I potty trained her.  You have said for years that I kept her away from you, but in actuality it was you who kept her away from you.  I told you several times that I would allow you to see her in a public place, like the Sheriff's department parking lot, and you never would go for that.  Every time your family ever showed an interest in having anything to do with her, I allowed it.  But the phone calls were very few and far between.  In the divorce and child custody agreement you were ordered to pay $120 dollars a month and was granted no visitation order whatsoever.  The judge left it up to me about visitation until you decided to seek your own visitation rights, which you never done, along with never paying any of her child support.  You held cash jobs so that a legal order couldn't be brought against you to pay.  You've never owned property, so no lien could be obtained if you didn't support her, and then you got disability and her case was dropped.  When her child support was dropped, you owed me close to $8000.00 in child support.  I've never seen a penny of that money.  The disability part doesn't bother me, because you are truly disabled.  What bothers me is that you didn't put the effort into paying into SSI your whole life to earn your disability money.  Paying taxes for a couple of weeks every few years does not entitle you to a Social Security check, in my opinion.  The people who truly deserve disability are the ones who pay into SSI with every single job they hold until the date they are no longer able to work, or until the age of retirement.

Then, after all of those years of abandoning your responsibilities as a parent, you had a brain aneurysm and I got a call from your sister asking me to pray for you.  I did pray for you.  I even felt bad for you.  I rolled it over in my mind for a whole week after your surgery about whether  I was being too harsh on you, was I holding a grudge, or was I just protecting my daughter from the person I knew so long ago.  The man who never took responsibility for his own actions, the man who allowed me to pay his child support for his son so he wouldn't go to jail, the man that mentally crushed my spirit, the man who did drugs with me and then ridiculed me for not being the strong one, the man who would do great and be a good person for a few weeks to only go back to his old ways when he had everyone convinced that he's not ugly inside.  I felt sorry for you.  Surely the demons you face are purely internal and you have a heart in there.  I had heartfelt talks with many of my family members and yours, I asked my child if she would like the chance to know you, all the while having a nagging feeling in my heart that she would only be hurt.  I had an adult conversation with you about what I expected when it came to my daughter.  There were rules.  Don't allow her around drug addicts, don't put her in harm's way, and be regular with the time you have with her.  I didn't want to let you back in her life if you were just going to disappear on her again.  The three rules were simple.  You didn't follow them.

The biggest lesson here is that I am the constant parent.  I am the one who has made lasting memories with her throughout her whole life, and will continue to make memories with her as long as I'm alive.  I am the one who worries when she seems sad, and cares enough to let her know that she can talk to me about anything and trust me when she tells me things.  I am the one who wipes her tears, holds her, kisses her, and hugs her.  I am the one that makes sure that her needs are met in all aspects of her life.  My daughter's physical, emotional, and spiritual well being has always been my job, and will be my job as long as I'm breathing.  From clothing, to food, to school, to medical care.......It's always been me.  I am constant.  I've always done my job.  You haven't.  You failed her in many ways, and I still allowed you the opportunity to make it right.  All you had to do was follow three simple rules to have what I have, this beautiful relationship with the most amazing person who has never harmed a soul, and you weren't man enough to do it.  She's not missing out on a relationship with you.  You're missing out on a relationship with her.

You see, absent parent, I talk to my child.  She trusts me with her hopes and dreams because I've always been a constant and unwavering supporter of hers in any way that she ever needed.  Not to say that I've never made mistakes.  I'm far from perfect, I fall from grace, and I'm very flawed in a lot of ways.  But she never has any doubts when it comes to me.  She told me just yesterday that she felt like I pushed her to have a relationship with you and she mainly went along with it out of curiosity, so she could see what she was missing.  She also said that when someone doesn't even have time to pick the phone up to check on her or find out what's going on in her life it makes her sad for a minute, but then she's like, "hey I'm okay."  I knew something was wrong when I would ask her, "Have you talked to your dad today?" and she would just tell me that she hadn't.  I knew it was hitting rock bottom and that she was having second thoughts when I would ask her, "Why don't you call your dad anymore?" and she would just say she didn't feel like talking.  She always feels like talking to me, so there had to be something wrong.  I asked your family what was going on with you only to be stonewalled with silence and excuses and probably lies.

I'm not sure if the rumors I've heard about you are true or not, but I do know that running away to another state all of a sudden seems a bit suspicious to me.  I also know that our divorce papers state that we must provide a physical address to the Chancery Court Clerk if we move out of state.  I followed that rule when I moved to Ohio, and when I moved back to Mississippi.  I've contacted the clerk, and you've never provided them with any other address other than the one of the date of filing.  So now if I want to file legal proceedings against you, I have no way to serve you.  It's just as well, though, because you'll always be a runner.  You've ran away your whole life.  Sounds kind of sad and exhausting to me.

So, in closing, I'll just say this.....She doesn't really want anything to do with you after she got to know you, and there will be no more contact with her if I can help it.  She is fine with that and wants me to protect her.  I'm responsible for the well being of my child, and my devotion to her will never change.  My conscience is clear.  You had your chance.  It's your fault.  Not mine.  Maybe one day you can look in the mirror like I did and say "I did this to myself, and I have no one left to blame," and try to do the next right thing.  Until then, I wish you well.  I won't poison myself any longer with your hate of years gone by.  I've got a future here, and her name is Jacie.

Sincerely,
Mama Bear

Friday, April 17, 2015

What Friendship Means To Me. #FriendshipRevolution

Photo courtesy of Alone At Dawn



When thinking of what I want or expect in a true friend, it's not very complicated.  I have only a handful of real life friends that I actually spend physical time with, and I'm okay with that.  I'm weird when it comes to spending time with people.  I'm not very trusting when it comes to allowing people into my everyday life.  I've been burned so many times by people that were supposed to be my friend that I eventually just shut out most people.  I'm at a place in life where it doesn't really matter if someone visits me on a regular basis, if they like me or if they don't, or about trying to impress anyone.  I love my true friends with a fierce passion and would go to the ends of the Earth to help them if I'm in a position to do so.  When I see them or talk to them, nothing has changed in my eyes.  We just pick up where we left off.  No fuss.  Simple.


HunnyMan and I chillin' on a backroad
My very best friend is my HunnyMan.  He knows how I tick, and still makes fun of me, and still loves being around me, and doesn't give a fuck if I want to be quiet or want to be loud.  He accepts me as I am in pretty much any situation and we have fun together.  Whether we're messing around in the yard, just hanging out in our recliners, doing the dirty in the bedroom, or any mundane chore that must be done we love being together.  Some nights he has to beg me to play Monopoly, (because that game sucks since they've figured out how to beat me) but we laugh.  Being a friend that I can laugh with is awesome.


I have a close neighbor, who I can't name because she doesn't do the internet thing, who brings her kids over from time to time and we've gotten pretty close.  We'll call her 'Suzy Q' just for kicks.  She reminds me of a Suzy Q.  So, her two girls are ten and seven.  Lil Dump loves when they come over here or we go over there.  HunnyMan is friends with Suzy Q's husband so it makes for a good match.  We all win in this situation.  Suzy Q and I get to hang out, the kids get to make memories, and the men even get some much needed man therapy.  The thing about Suzy Q and I is that we are both on the same page when it comes to socializing.  We keep our circle small because we're both total weirdo's.  That's good for both of us.  We always enjoy hanging out together.  We have a lot in common.  We're both country ass hicks who drink beer and mess around in the woods.  We both wear boots and love riding around on ATV'S, and shit.  We both make our kids mind and teach them the way we were taught.  We both are total bitches and make fun of each other for being total bitches.  See what I mean?  Being a friend who has something in common with me is awesome.


Rissa and I.  This was a fun day!
I've got a friend who I rarely see anymore.  Not because we live too far apart, but because life gets in the way.  She's my girl, she helps me look out for nonsense in the one group that I started years ago, and she's fucking amazing.  She even helped me move some shit one time when I was down and out and had no one else.  She's one of those friends who are loyal to the end of the world.  She pretty much has it all.  The laughs, the love, the common denominators, the loyalty, and she get's my sarcasm.  I love you, Rissa!




My 19 year old, Me, and Mama

I'm friends with my Mama.  No need to explain that one.  She gives the best advice.  I'm friends with my little Sister and Brother.  We always have a lot of giggles when we're around each other.  I'm friends with my 19 year old.  I may ride her ass from time to time, but for the most part she's my friend now that she's grown.  Being friends with my family feels pretty damn good.  I also have family in Georgia that I still feel very close to thanks to social media.  They may not be my blood relatives, but they're a part of me, nonetheless. 


Speaking of social media and the sentiment of my family being part of my friendship circle brings me to my internet friends.  I've met some extraordinary people online.  Some of them know more about me than I know about myself.  No, seriously, some of them do know more than I care to divulge anywhere else.  Being part of a group brings you close to people who you wouldn't otherwise know in real life.  I share in their happiness, sadness, accomplishments, and even failures.  I share the same things with them.  I've grown to love a multitude of different people thanks to the interwebs.  They come from all walks of life.  They are all different and all special in their own way.  They play an important part in my life, whether they know it or not.  When I'm unable to reach out physically to a loved one, I can always go to my close online buddies.  They don't judge me, they don't hound me, they don't hate on me, but they ALWAYS know the right words to say when I need them.  I may not get the response that I want, but they will tell me what I need to hear.  Whether I agree with them or not, they're my friends.  I respect an opinion shared without malicious intent.  It's good for any grown person.  I take what I need, use it if I can, and do my very best to be the same type of friend to them.  I may fall short, but I try my best to be a good person, even when being a good person is hard for me to do.



I may not be everyone's friend, and that works for me since I'm such a weirdo.  I don't need to be everyone's friend.  I know that the things I expect from my friends are pretty much the same things that they're going to get from me.  I need laughter, something in common, loyalty, an understanding that sarcasm will happen, and a feeling of belonging.  It's a beautiful combination once we get to know each other.

See?  No fuss.  Simple.

Wanna go fishing?

HELL YEAH!

Monday, April 13, 2015

You're Different Than I Am, And That's Okay With Me

Some really hateful things happened all over the book of faces over this past week that had me angry for a spell.  Some vile names were called.  Some anonymity was broken.  Some bitches started tripping.  I was one of them.  While I don't blog anonymously, I respect those who do.  No matter how angry I got, or how much I disagree with someone, I would never disregard someone's desire for privacy.  It's just not right.

Now that we've got my opinion on the subject out there, let's move on.

A very special friend of mine (I'd like to call her a friend, anyway) who is not a blogger, but a page owner, wrote something on her own book of faces page today about friendship.  Her words made me look inside of myself and prompted me to write this today.  This is a woman who I admire for her values, I respect her immensely, and I think the world of her.  She's just awesome and she always knows how to calm a storm.

Her thoughts on being a good friend opened my eyes to the fact that I may have been a bad friend.

Bloggers are a tight knit community.  When we see one of our fellow bloggers being attacked it's not pretty.  People generally jump on one side or the other and then all hell breaks loose and people get their feelings hurt.  I know that I got my feelings hurt.  Not because someone disagreed with me, but because I saw someone being a bully while playing the victim of bullying.  I think that we can all agree that at some point in our lives we have all been faced with ugly words and nastiness.  A difference of opinion is not the same as being mean and hateful and spiteful.  I'm guilty of jumping on the bandwagon of hate.  I said ugly things about someone because they were being hateful and spiteful to my friend.  For that, I'm sorry.  When in the moment of feeling anger, it's so hard not to defend the one being picked on.  It doesn't matter which side you pick, it's wrong to carry a sword in a fight that doesn't belong to you.  Not my beagles, not my hunt.  (Southern people will get that euphemism.)

While reading this friends thoughts on what a true friend is, though, I found wisdom.  My heart felt heavy, but my mind was enlightened.  There was wisdom in her words that nearly knocked me to my knees.  Those are the best kind of friends.  The ones who tell you the truth.  The ones who hold nothing back and throw all the punches when you need a busted head.  I don't know if her words were directed at me.  It doesn't matter.  I took something from them and made it my own.  She felt something, wrote it, and I took what I needed and left the rest.  I call her my friend because of this.

With that being said, today I am at peace.  With myself, with my opinions (no matter who agrees or disagrees), and with my ability to be a friend.  We all make mistakes, and I'm not scared to be the first to admit mine.

What are your thoughts on the makings of a good friend?

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Sometimes A Woman Starts Menopause. And It's Fucking Hard.

Sometimes a woman just needs to write.  Sometimes she needs to get things out.  Sometimes she needs a release.  Sometimes she gets overwhelmed with life, and bills, and money problems, and what she's supposed to be doing, and whatever the fuck else it is that puts her in a dark place.

For me it seems to be a reoccurrence of being without money, no stamina to accomplish things, pre-menopause creeping it's ugly head into my body, and depression that comes and goes.

Some days are good.  Some days are bad.  My life is not bad, I just have this hormone thing going on and I can't seem to drag my body and mind together.

It doesn't seem serious yet, physically.  Aside of the night sweats and food cravings and being cold or hot sixty-eleventy times a day.  Not to me, anyway.  But my loved ones are noticing the changes.  And that has set my mind in motion.  My mind in motion is not a good thing.  My mind can, and has, gotten me in deep shit throughout my lifetime.  I'm a dark ass bitch.  For real.  (Dark minds think alike, am I right?)

The thing is, I'm at a place in life where I know that everything is going to be okay.  I don't have demons who are ready to pounce on me and put me under like other time periods, I've grown a lot in the last 7 to 10 years.  I have a positive outlook and positive reinforcements.  Those are things I've never really had years ago, or at least I didn't think I had them.  Maybe I was just too busy pushing people away to realize they were positive to me.

My question is this:  How long does this menopause shit last?
And one more question:  Why the fuck am I starting it this early?  I'm in my EARLY 40's, for fuck's sake!

Crazy Hussy.  I'm totally gonna change my name to Crazy Hussy.

This shit blows.  And by blows I mean like a hurricane kind, not like a blowjob kind.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

A Letter To The Ones Who Hurt Me



Dear Motherfuckers who harmed me, wronged me, took advantage of me, and ultimately made me stronger:

I beat you.  I screwed you in the most awesome way you could ever imagine.

I found a happiness that you WILL NEVER FIND.

I became so strong because of you that no amount of sad or stupid will ever break me.

I learned how to function in a world full of angry with a genuine smile on my face and in my heart.

I know what's important, and you aren't a part of that importance.

Sincerely,
This Hussy who has became so much better because of the lessons.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Christmas 2014 Is Upon Us

Christmas.  I love this time of year.  (Insert sarcasm with those last words.)


I despise the crowds.  I despise the shopping.  I despise the incessant music on every radio station while I drive.  I despise the fact that I live on a fixed income and that I stress about money to the point that it makes me physically ill every single year.  I despise the sadness I feel about both of my Grandmothers passing in the month of December.  I'm normally not a negative person except for this time of year.


And then there is the beautiful side to all this negative.  The wonderful things about Christmas time that I gently remind myself of.  This is the month that I gave birth to my BabyBug, who will turn 19 this year.  This is the month that my Apple Dumpling shows me, every year, that I've done such a great job teaching her what the most important things in life are.  This is a month of magic.  This is a month where people do such amazing things for others with love in their heart and no expectation for their actions in return.


Last year was the first Christmas that I had both of my daughters together in five years.  It was magical.  The smiles on their faces over nothing more than us being together was priceless.  They knew I didn't have a lot of money, and it didn't seem to matter to them.  We laughed over silly things and made fun of each other and just had an amazing time.


I've spent two Christmases with my HunnyMan and this year will make three.  They've been the most wonderful ones of my life, aside of those from my childhood when the magic of Santa captivated me, and we don't even buy gifts for each other.  His parents have shared in our joy, which made these Christmases even better.  I could never ask for a better Mother and Father-in-Law.  They're the kind of people that can just sit around and talk and you instantly feel comfortable, the kind of people who would give the shirt off their back if it would help someone in need.  I love them so much for that.


So, in all of the things that make this time of year sad and unbearable for me, there are many things that remind me of how Blessed I am.  I have amazing children, a loving and supportive family, a Husband that completes me, and memories that will forever fill my heart with happiness.


To all of you who took the time to read this, I wish you a wonderful and joyous Christmas filled with magic and love.


Friday, September 19, 2014

A Love Letter To My Apple Dumpling

Dear Dump,
(I promise I will never call you that in public or around your friends.)

I've loved you since I found out that you were growing inside of me.  I cried.  I laughed.  I was scared.  I was proud.  You made a difference in me that day, my birthday, when I found out the news that Mama was gonna be a Mama again.  I had a lot of things that needed changing in me before you were born and those changes began on that birthday in 2003 when I was 30 years old.

Fast forward to April of the next year when you were born.  The day you came along was one of the best days of my life.  I don't think I've ever cried that much with happiness in my heart.  And that's what you've given me in your ten years.....so much happiness.

From the moment your feet hit the floor until you lay your pretty little strangy head down at night, you're happy.  (You can thank me for that strangy hair, Miss Priss!)  You've always looked at the bright side of life and found a way to leave the negative in file 13, where it belongs.  (That's Military talk for the trash can, btw.)  I've never been able to give you a lot of things that other children have because we live in the poverty level and you've never complained much about that.  You've always been happy with the hugs and kisses and the little things like making muffins or brownies or clubhouses in the woods out of whatever junk you can drag up.  That says a big whole bunch about your character.  It says that you're a survivor.  You're a lover.  You're good.  And yes, baby, YOU ARE SO GOOD!

Your passion for nature and animals is one of the greatest things about you.  You get that from me, you know.  We're nature lovers.  Being outside is our thang!  I always wanted to have a career helping animals or some type of scientist who studies bugs or frogs or something like that.  You're so much like me!  The way you talk when you play reminds me of how I used to do at your age and you didn't even know me back then.  Wait, I didn't know you back then, either.  It's like you're me, only without the nasty attitude!  Now I'm not saying you're perfect because you have those days when you can smart-mouth your tail into making me totally lose my beans on ya!  We both know that.  What I'm saying is, I'm proud of you because you're like me......only better.  You have a gift that is animals.  I Pray that you find a way to do something with that gift that I wanted to do, but never got around to.



I love you, Dump.  More than you'll ever know.  More than you'll ever be loved.  You made me a better person, ya know.  I was on a really bad path in life before you came along and having you in my life changed how I felt about everything.  Especially how I felt about myself.  You were my second chance.  You were my reason and my motivation to do the right things and make the right choices.  I had gone on long enough doing the wrong things and you made me realize that we all deserved a healthy Mama.  A Mama who could and would do what's right for her family.  Thank you for saving my life, baby.  Because you truly did.


Mama loves you.  Muches and bunches.  xo

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

A Love Letter To The 18 Year Old

Dear Bug,

You have brought so much joy to my life in the 18 years you've been in this cruel, but beautiful world.  Carrying you for nine months and giving birth to you all natural were the hardest things I had ever done back then.  At 22 years old, I didn't have the first clue about life, much less raising and caring for someone other than myself.  I was scared of being a Mama, I admit it.  I made a ton of mistakes, I admit that, too.  I'm very ashamed of so many things that you had to go through all because I wasn't ready to be a parent.  If I could go back and redo things, I would in a heartbeat.  (I'm sure a lot of people say that from time to time.)  So BabyBug, listen to this song right here and know that Mama loves you with all her heart.    A Lot Of Things Different for my Bug

When you were a little baby, you were such a joy.  You brought so many people happiness. You brought people together.  We showed you off to many family members, many who aren't here anymore, and people would gather at family functions just for you.  You were the first Grandchild, the Prodigy, the first of a new generation in MY family.  You had the birthmark. You had the attitude.  You were the next big thing.  And with that you had big shoes to fill. Shoes that I was supposed to wear in my day, but never wanted to.  People expect too much from you when you're the first, trust me I was a first, too.  I didn't ask for it, but it followed me my whole life.  So far, you've handled it with much more grace than I ever did.  The pressure of being the first was too much for me and I did the exact opposite of what everyone expected.  You've shined in the spotlight.  You've lived your life, up to this point, with so much love in your heart.  You have a love inside of you that, at your young age of 18, puts your Mama to shame.  I was full of hatred at your age.  And after all that you've been through, after all that you've survived, you have a love inside of you that I'm in awe of.  I'm proud of you for that.

Now that you consider yourself a grown up, which you are, (I mean, let's face it, you HAD to grow up in the circumstances that you were dealt,) I have some Motherly advice for you.  I also have a few things to tell you that may help in the rest of your journey through life.  And I want you to know everything about you that makes me proud.

Please, Bug, whatever you do......always, always, always follow your heart.  Even if it means your heart get's hurt or broken.  Follow it.  No matter what people say or think, it's your heart and no one else has your heart.  No one else can live your life.  No one else can bring you happiness.  You are always responsible for your heart, so you follow it.  While I'm over here giving advice and shit, let me tell you how important your dreams and ambitions are.  I know how much you wanted to make a difference in the lives of children.  Even if it's not in nursing like you planned, still follow that.  There are so many ways that you can make a career out of helping children.  Look at you now, making a difference to my little TurkeyButt.  He doesn't have a Mama.  He loves you as his Mama.  No matter where his Mama is or what her future holds, look at what you're doing for him right now!  Look how freaking amazing he is because of you!  Look at the accomplishments he's reached because he had your help, your love, your attention, and your heart!  YOU'VE DONE SOMETHING AMAZING ALREADY WITH THAT SWEET LITTLE BOY!  Don't you give up your dreams and ambitions of wanting to be a help or to make a difference to children.  You can do it.  Set your mind to it, and just go for it, for fuck's sake!  No one is stopping you but you.  Make it happen.  Don't be like me, 41 years old, wishing I would've done something.  You've still got plenty of time.  And I believe in you!

When I tell you that I'm 40 years old and I know shit, I hope you're listening.  The biggest thing I want you to know is that no one else can live YOUR life.  It was given to YOU by me. It's yours to do with as you please.  No one is responsible for your mistakes or your milestones but you.  With that being said, never allow anything negative into your life.  If it's not benefiting you, get rid of it.  Never hang onto ANY FRICKING THING that brings you down.  I promise, you'll always know true happiness if you always surround yourself with good.  Even if it means starting over with nothing (and yes, that's hard to do) you have to always do what's best and good and true for your life and for your well being and for your happiness.  I spent too many years trying to please someone else and the years I lost aren't worth it.  Take it from a woman who has been through any and all things that are bad.  I've suffered all the kinds of abuse known to man and being a survivor is all I have to show for it. Don't be the woman I am.  Be the woman who took the advice from a broken, used up, hurt, abused woman who learned some hard mother fucking lessons.  Don't ever put yourself in a position where you have to depend on someone else.  That shit hurts.  And when you're not able to fend for yourself, you get taken advantage of.  Then you get thrown away.  Don't be someone's trash.  Be someone's hero.  And always know that you're already my hero.

Now, let me tell you how proud of you I am, and why I'm proud of you.......Bug, you didn't ask for the life your Dad and I gave you.  It wasn't your fault that we couldn't stay together. It wasn't in the cards of life.  That's my fault.  But you know what?  I'm so proud that we gained you from that relationship.  Even though neither one of us were ready to be parents, I'm so proud that God decided to give us the gift that is you.  You truly were the greatest Blessing that came from that relationship.  I'm so proud that you always did so well in whatever you were faced with.  It shows that you have the ability to adapt to whatever circumstances are thrown your way.  I'm proud that you left at 13 to live with your Dad because my time in Ohio is something that no person should ever have to go through.  I'm sorry for that, but you were in the best place for you at the time.  No matter what you think of your Dad, he was a good person then.  He did the best he could.  I trusted him to take care of you, and he did that.  It's hard for me to say anything bad about him because he went through some rough shit with me and you never went without anything you NEEDED.  So you call your Dad and tell him thank you, because he did some sacrificing back in the day.

I'm proud that you came back to me at 17 with good intentions in your mind and heart.  I didn't have anything at the time, but that was okay with you.  I was different and you were, too.  I'm proud that you recognized the changes I'd made and that you wanted to be close to me again.  That meant so much to me.  It also meant the world to your little sister.  She adores you much more than you'll ever know.  I'm proud of the young woman you've become.  I'm proud that you're teaching a little boy what true love is.  Even though he doesn't belong to you, he DOES belong to you.  I'm so proud of you for that.  Sometimes love is all it takes to make a difference in the life of a child.  And that little boy loves you.  You know it, your butthead of a boyfriend knows it, and TurkeyButt knows it.  I just wish you knew how important that little threesome of a family you have means to me.  Whether he knows it or not, I love your Butthead boyfriend and his sweetheart of a son.  You guys mean the world to me.

And, in closing, here's you another song to listen to.......because life is a dance, and it's a beautiful dance if you choose for it to be.  Please Dance, BabyBug. You're worth it!

I love you, more than you'll ever be loved in this lifetime.  xo