* You don't arrive late to be seen, but because you had to watch the end of CSI

*The bouncer barely glances at your I.D. ((the bastard))

*Most of the men at the club are still too young to have facial hair

*You lecture the young women there about not giving away the milk for free

*You're feet want to dance but your ass just wants to sit

*"I love older women, they know what they want." is a common pick up line used on you

* Going up to the VIP area is not attractive because you have to climb stairs...

* They play Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" and you and your friends are the only ones dancing ((holla))

* You don't want to dance on the stages because you might fall off

* Gin and Juice is no longer an attractive beverage option

* You are looking forward to going home to bed...alone

Ah, Today I am 33.....
Let's just pause and think about that...
33

Those are awful big numbers. On the upside, for most of this year, I thought I ALREADY was 33; I had to do the math.

Alzheimer's, definitely Alzheimer's.

On the bright side:

I'm SOTD at Michele Agnew!!! (happy dance)

You know it's going to be a good day when you wake up with good hair, your son makes you tea, you get to be the center of attention(SOTD) and then to top it off like a cherry on a sundae....you get to see a man in a business suite skateboarding into work holding his lean cuisine.

Yes...I couldn't get the damn camera phone out fast enough.

Since he was quicker then I, you're just gonna have to trust me on this one..I almost peed on myself I was laughing so hard.

All in all, 33 seems to be treating me pretty damn well so far.

And if you're so inclined to send me a gift, send me this....pretty please?? With a Big. Red. Bow....he he

Happy birthday to me...Happy birthday to meeeeeeee

Correction: I did get a picture but it's hard to see, click here.

Ah..money, you never really notice it much till you don't have much of it.
Welcome to our household. I'm living on such a tight budget that my pocket book claims I'm starving it too death.

When I called the Department of Child Support recently to question whether my recent windfall of $184.05 was from a garnishment because Dead Beat had started working, I was told, and I quote, "No, looks like he paid with a cashiers check when he turned in the paperwork to lower his support obligation."

Pause

"You mean the support he hasn't paid in ten years, that obligation?"
"Yes, that would be the one."
"So I shouldn't count on anything more."
"No. In fact, just enjoy this one."


Um, excuse me? Enjoy? Oh, ok lady, I'll enjoy this check for $184.05 while using it to buy a second hand dryer because my old second hand one just up and keeled over from old age. I'll then enjoy it using it to fix the broken turn signals on my car, let's not forget to mention how I'll enjoy it when it doesn't cover fixing my brakes or my two back windows, one of which wont go down, the other of which wont go up. I'll also remember to enjoy it when I can't afford to get the tabs for my car for ANOTHER month and when I can't afford to send MY son to sleep away camp like he so desperately wants to go and when I can't afford to pay the doctor bills at the pediatrician or when I can't afford to pay the entire electric bill or even buy MY son that stupid Lego Star Wars Tank he's been dying to have.

Yes, you're right...I'll go right out and enjoy this check.

It was a day like any other day in T-town. The heat beat down like a jack hammer upon the melting asphalt and the air was a heavy blanket of oppression.

Stepping outta my ride, right away I knew something wasn't right.
It was too quiet.

Except for the dog, he always sounded the alarm regardless whether the visitor be fowl, feline, or human. His strident barking broke the silence like the shattering of glass.

The sweat on my brow rolled into my eye, temporarily blinding me to the problem at hand.

Something was missing and I didn't know what.

I took a moment to peel my shirt away from my back waiting for the cool air to rush into the space, only no air ever came. The waves of 96 degrees kept that little reprieve away.

Hand cupped over my eyes I scanned the scene. My partner, Kendell, blundered around the site like he always does. Smart boy, not too quick when it came to catching feelings ya know.

"what are you looking at mom? Huh, huh?"

I keep telling him to call me inspector...but he never does...


"Somethings missing Kendell, I can just feel it."

I scan the street, my eyes squinted in concentration, looking for movement, anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. It's so silent I can hear the panting breath of the dog behind me.

Pant.....Pant...

Wait a minute.....why is the dog panting?

"Wait a minute....why is the dog panting Kendell?"

"It's hot out here Mom...sheesh."

"You're forgetting one important thing rookie, I put on the sprinkler for him this morning before we took off on patrol."

"Patrol? Mom, you ok? Is the heat getting to you?"

"That's it!"

"What? The heat?"

"NO! The hose is gone! Some dirty rotten scoundrel absconded with the dog's hose and sprinkler!"

"Jeepers Mom, you're good!"

Yes, someone stole my damn hose and sprinkler yesterday and God help em if I find it hooked up somewhere. I'm going to take Buddy for a walk to their front porch...after feeding him a shitload of pizza....and I do mean that literally.

My brother, (the Baptist Minister): So how was your weekend?
Me: Great, took Kendell and some friends to the pool, I'm fried.
Brother: Fun, how fried?
Me:Well, I couldn't put a bra on this morning...
pause
Brother:Kara, that was WAY too much information thanks.

Huh...He asked...

Received my first child support check in five years, the 2nd in the ten years of Kendell's life.

I'm guessing it might have something to do with his attempt to lower his support order, I'm kinda quick like that.

Too bad he doesn't realize my stupidity ended when we did...

Some advice for you men out there since summer is flirting her way into our wardrobe...just because you can go without a shirt, doesn't mean you should. (shudder)

Excuse me, there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding; I believe I signed my son up for baseball...not myself.

I took Kendell to his practice yesterday to find out that it was Parent vs Kids day...SURPRISE!!

Joy, glee, relish...these three emotions had nothing to do with what I felt.

I spent most of my Jr High and High School years on the rag just to AVOID gym and now here I was being gifted with the opportunity to relive memories of hiding in left field hoping no one hit it too me.

I'm going to be 33 this month, public humiliation should not be a lifestyle choice anymore.

Yes, I was the ONLY parent not playing; they all were freaking good sports. Seriously folks, one other person could have not played just so I didn't look like such a dork, is that too much to ask??
Yea...pretty much.

The parents were cool about it, no one pushed...no one that is but my SON, the product of my loins, my little buckaroo, the small being who at different times(and sometimes the same time) alternately peed, threw up, and snotted on me.

He offered me up like an ice cream cone to starving Ethiopian children.

Every time it was my turn up he was out in the field yelling "come on Mom, just hit it..come ON"

over

and over

and over again

I could see the impending Kendell storm clouds stirring on the horizon and the wailing voice that was my son getting louder and louder while my face turned three shades of magenta and my skull threatened to split into two jagged shards...so I decided to bat, just so he would Shut.The.Hell.Up.

This is the point in the story where I should be telling you how I stepped up to that plate like I was the Babe and pointed out where the ball was going. The bat gripped in my hands just quivering for retribution against years of "she's not gonna hit it, she's not gonna hit it" and "Bring em in, this one's not going far"..

Well, the bat did quiver in my hands, but...more from fear then years of repressed sports stardom and I didn't need to point out where the ball was going because I already knew...right into the catchers mitt.

Hey, I swung, I created quite a breeze for three strikes,
then I quietly gathered my shattered pride and slunk back to my corner to sulk.

Kendell should enjoy the ballet classes I just enrolled him in.....
Bwah Ha Ha Ha!

Kendell's been dying to fish.

More accurately, he's been killing me with his desperate desire to stand on the dock for hours on end waiting for the nearest fish that thinks worm ala hook seems yummy.

Needless to say, we went fishing. Does it make me wrong to have enjoyed watching him struggle with dry heaves while baiting his first hook??

...Sometimes revenge is best served wiggly...

There are days when the fates conspire against you. Words that spill off your lips are both less and more then what you mean.

When the phrase "with a heavy heart" is pounded home by the weight on your chest and making the right decision seems anything but right.
Days when you're one person on an island in the middle of downtown traffic. No one sees you, no one hears you, they flow and ebb around you, leaving you lost in the noise.

You do your best and it goes un-noticed, you shut your mouth against the words that are beating against your teeth, just to avoid the war they are screaming for. You try to play peacemaker even though it goes against the warrior inside and no one hears the pleas; the anger beating in their heads drowns you out.

When you are talking to the back but the front has shut their eyes and ears.

Days when you must play parent when you would rather play kid.

Days like today.

I'm feeling sorry for myself today.

The day could be a ray of sunshine with angels and fairy's flittering about scattering fairy dust and I would complain about littering.

My nerves are being tap danced upon by tiny little imps and I would like nothing better then to catch them and smash em into little bitty imp pieces. I am a BAD person today....sigh

So please keep your good mood to yourself, if you must smile, do it in private. I don't want to hear any tunes hummed and I don't need to listen to you baby talk to your boo boo...SHUDDUP already.

I'm ready to go home and retreat into my cave, pulling in the rocks behind me.

So keep your Starbucks induced chatter in your head. That's it..suck it in. Breath someone else's air and leave mine uncaffeinated please.

I.Need.A.Vacation...

Can you believe these two are related? My nephew Josh(lying down) is actually a month younger then my son Kendell.

Josh: "Kendell! I havn't seen you in TWO years! What should we do first?"

Kendell:"Josh! Hey man! Let's play XBOX!"

Two years apart and all they want to do is play xbox. They didn't get that from their mothers...we watched a movie..

I'm the youngest of five kids, and if that wasn't bad enough, there is a ten year span between myself and the next youngest.

So not only am I the baby of the family...I'm the BABY.

My sister was here from Ohio to see her step daughter graduate and managed to squeeze in a visit with myself and my other sister.

I was understandably excited to see my sister, brother-in-law, and assorted nieces and nephews.

The BBQ was set, the baked beans on to boil and potato salad prepared and chilling in the fridge. All I needed was my sisters.

I prepared my house so it was clean, floors scrubbed, candles lit throughout providing a pleasant fragrance.......

It now looks like a tornado burst through my house, deposited loads of random crap...and left.

Ahhhh, how I've missed that.

Today marks a month that I am functioning un-medicated.

Six months after my mother passed I found myself taking breaks so I could go cry in the bathroom. Driving home from work with no one but my demons for company became a torturous route.

You see, my mother didn't just pass away one night in her sleep. She endured three months of a hospital stay and seven surgeries. She spent most of that time in drug induced coma because her chest was being held open in order to try and keep an eye on her sternum. While she slept, the house we lived in caught fire.

My sister and I lived this nightmare with her. We were there every day, trying to function normally while making life and death decisions. One minute I am seeing my sons teacher for the parent teacher conference, the next I am with the insurance adjuster for the house, and then off to the hospital to make a decision for my mother that she couldn't make for herself.

After everything was said and done and the frantic pace we had kept settled back into some normality the enormity of what we had just went through began to leak through.

Cracks appeared in my daily life. I was like a wind up toy that had been wound too tight and now I kept bumping myself into this wall trying to wind down, only I never did.

This was when I went for help.

Paxil came in like a soft, down blanket and soothed my world for me. It didn't make the monsters go away, but it gave me that distance so I could deal with them. Panic attacks stopped coming as often and I started coming out of my room on the weekend. No one really knows how close I came to a break down, but I know I was teetering. I had one foot over the edge and the only thing keeping me from stepping off was Kendell.

I remember the shame I felt the first time I had my prescription filled. Would someone know? Can they see it tattooed on my forehead? Does this make me weak?

No, it made me strong enough to know when to ask for help. I firmly believe that.

And now I'm strong enough to know, I no longer need it.

It's been two years of climbing uphill but I'm finally able to scale this mountain without help.

You've been here with me on this journey whether you knew it or not. The ups and downs in my writing; the painful leaking of personal stories that escaped from my finger tips.

I thank you for the comfort of knowing that someone out there was listening. Listening to me laugh, joke, rant, and cry.

Today I celebrate growth with a drink of my choice:

Life...straight up please.

Fate has a sense of humor that I don't always appreciate.

Tuesday I gave in to my urgent need for a haircut in order to tame the wild beast that happens to live on my head. Since I had straightened the curls for a day it was a perfect time to get it cut. I didn't want to pay extra to have it styled so I decided to leave it as is...flat, hair pieces falling from my head like dandruff, and with no style at all.

Kendell and I stopped by the grocery store, whereupon Kendell decided that whining was the most ideal form of communication. By the time I hit the line to leave, my hair stood on end, my face was pinched into the hard lines of someone trying desperately not to commit murder, and I still had hair flaking behind me like so much road dust.

This is when I look up to see a fireman waving...at me.

It's an old boyfriend I broke up with about six months ago.

Here.

Now.

When I look like roadkill.

I'm betting he went home that night glad he was single....

Ok, over at my fav blogger Miss Doxie, she has posted a little story about her dogs. Don't let the vanilla flavor of that fool you...she's gonna crack your ass up!

Since Blogger is being crazy, you're just gonna have to copy and paste:

http://www.missdoxie.com/2006/06/story_time_1.html

Irony is:

Hiring an attorney to modify child support that you havn't paid in ten years.

"Ya know mommy, I really miss Grandma."

"Me to buggy."

"No one could ever take her place in my heart."

"I know Sweet Pea, me either."

"But I'm ok with someone taking Daddy's place, ya know..cause he's not around and all....You know I really want a Dad right?"

....pause...

"I'll get right on that Kendell."

It was one of those days begging you to roll the car windows down and let the breeze tangle your hair into a million knots.

I had a visit to make that was a long time over due.

As we pulled into the cemetery I was taken aback by the vast sea of white crosses and flags. The sun beat warmly upon the backs of people bent over, cleaning off grave stones, tending to weeds that had sprung up between visits, and putting small pieces of love into every act.

There is no age here, no color, creed, or religion. Those that visit belong to a different race; we belong among those who have been left behind. We know each other in passing smiles, reserved looks, shared loss.

I know exactly where to stop among the endless hills of graves.
Even though no colorful marker shows the way,
my heart remembers.

I walk towards them with heavy feet, flags fluttering in the summer breeze around me. The sound they make is the soft flapping of a birds wings and it soothes me, reminds me that my family doesn't lie here alone.

I stand above the gravestones that represent my parents. They seem so plain in comparison to the people that lie beneath them. It's hard to believe that they mark their lives, but you can't write the worth of a life in only a few letters on stone.

The torrents open and out pours this grief that has welled and ebbed, pushed and pulled at my soul, only to be denied, pushed down deeper into the dark.
It rushes now past my defenses and sends me to my knees in the warm soft grass. My tears stream down my face unchecked as I am defenseless against the onslaught of denied emotions. Like soldiers they pour from beneath my lids, their war cries released in my sobs. My shoulders bend from the weight and my hands curl into the earth seeking comfort from those who are beyond my reach.

I don't remember talking to them, I couldn't. Today was not the day for words or thoughts, just this voice, this sad wailing voice, who had not been allowed her grief.

Through a screen of tears I watch as my son bustles about tidying up others graves, knowing without being told that I needed to be alone.
He picks up flowers, straightening them in their pot, puts a small figure to rights that had been knocked over in the wind,and places wayward blooms with no home on graves that lie unadorned.
His small, sweet, black head bent in concentration as he tries to fix something at another grave. I watch him play caretaker, knowing that his tasks show a caring and understanding that reaches beyond his brief ten years.

He is my anchor in this swirling mist of pain. He pulls me back to the day, the bitter sweet beauty of a sea of red, white, and blue, under a summer sun.

As I walk back to the car he asks me for just a minute more. I sit down, soaking in the warmth the day has left, giving him his time. I watch as he kneels in front of the grave of a grandfather he never knew but bears in his genes, then the grave of his grandmother who helped raise him; giving each gravestone a press of his lips and a caress of his small hand.

There if front of me lies both my past and my future....my life.

Name:Kara

Location: Tacoma, Washington, United States

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I'm a recovering single mother trying desperately to see humor in my day to day toil while simultaneously avoiding reality as much as humanly possible.

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