I'm ready to set this school year aside, chalk it up to experience and take the summer for a ride.

My plan is to make this a transformative summer. Seems with the crater from the latest mushroom cloud I've a blank if not clean state.

I'm holding my ground. I don't know if it's the right thing to do, but the deal is that he doesn't come back to live with me until he can respect my rules. My rules are simple.

~ Basic self care.(hygiene, education, common decency, safe decision)
~ A few family chores (trash out, clean room, vacuum, mow yard)
~ Honest Communication with out the name calling and blame.
~ Respect Boundaries of those you live with. (privacy, physical, verbal...)

Right now E is attempting to use staying at his father's as a manipulative tool. He wants to come back, tells me he's ready, asks me if he can do something and if I say no, he pulls out the hurt and goes to dad whom of course says yes without limit. It may backfire, but I can't keep giving in and being pulled under by his manipulation. Most of what he says is parroting overheard jabs from his father's tirades. I'm hopeful in that his father has admitted that his behaviors did not set a good example. Looks like the sentence to domestic abuse counseling is having some good effect.

It's hard to cut the old habit of self pity and hanging onto that helpless victim role when it feels so often like I'm being backed into a corner and beaten. That said, I'm less jangled by all the rot. I'm moving forward, getting life lived.

My yard looks great.
I'm going to bask in my beau. He cooks, He cleans, He surprises me with yard work...
He understands my position without letting me get away with the po pitiful me routine.

In with the good, fix the bad...

Reworking old tunes

finished lyric train.wav

I can ride a bike like a boy, or so I've been told. I'm not a fan of racing, but I like riding trails, dodging rocks, gnarly roots and fallen tree limbs. There's something in the speed and the rough terrain that pumps "Don't fuck with me" endorphins through the veins.

Don't fuck with me endorphins are bad ass motherfuckers.

Pimping my Perspective

Divorce, grief, guilt, shame, blame, bitterness... the pesky power words that I've been clinging to for far too long. Marilyn once told me that eventually I'd exhaust my desire to hold onto it all, and when I finally let go I would be free. She's right, only I imagined letting go from a great height and falling straight and fast into a net held by the Dennis Leary and the cast of Rescue Me.
The reality of the Fall is more like loosing my grip on a loose root protruding out of a cliff wall that finally gives way and pulls loose sending me bouncing hard off of a jagged rock face. I've had several moments during this fall when I've thought I'm done, but the outcroppings keep giving way. I think I'm near bottoming out if not flat out sprawled.

James reminded me, David encouraged me, my Mother and Father loved me unconditionally as did my sisters and my Aunt. My son A showered me with love which reminds me I've been a parent to both boys, and he confirms that I am indeed a decent parent; far from perfect, but decent.

The fella, who left turned round and came back, lifted me and wrapped me up in knowing I'm worth knowing.

I'm doing everything I can to help E find a way to grow into a man. I"m doing every thing I can. What he chooses to take is his load.

I have so much other, better, wiser waxing to wane, but I'm afraid I'm not feeling the patience to bear it out.

I understand the throwing up of hands, the washing of them...but hang with me for a spell, I'm about to break loose and I promise, I'm worth the sticking round.

Damn straight.

My life in a Hamster Ball

A to his Brother E (the one trying to kill me)

No one can open the drapes, roust you out of the depths and martini your way to peace.

Sometimes life gets fucked up and you alternate between treading water and floating on your back to make it to the next day.

It's just the way it is.

I pray and entreat Thee, help me and I shall be safe; direct me and defend me; strengthen me and comfort me; confirm me and gladden me; enlighten me and come unto me. Raise me from the dead; ... Despise me not, nor regard my iniquities; but according to the multitude of tender mercies have mercy upon me, the chief of sinners, and be gracious unto me. Turn unto me, and be not angry with me. I implore Thee, most compassionate, I pray meekly, of Thy great mercy, to bring me to a holy death, and to true penance, to a perfect confession, and to worthy satisfaction for all my sins. Amen.

Forgive me, for surely I am a sinner...My penitence...

~ The man I had been dating for the last month sent me a sexually suggestive text message. My son E breached my privacy again, this time instead of rifling through my room he read my messages while I took a shower. The man came over that night, fell to sleep on the couch while watching a movie. E's reaction was to smear salsa on the back of my boyfriend's shirt, smash an egg in the sleeve, and to slit the tire of his jeep.

This man had been kind comfort, helpful and we were oil and water. It was inevitable, but I would have liked to have spent more time laughing, and laying in the comfort of his big heart. He was kind in his need for escape, and I am becoming well practiced at setting what I hold dear free..

Hence...

~ My son has gone to live with his father. Please before you judge, know that I too judged others in the unenviable position in which I find myself. I too thought I was above the fray. Justice is wicked.

"Thou hast cleft my heart in twain"

~My dear friend the good Doctor has professed his feelings for me border on obsession. I've returned a thousand dollar check that he tried to give me after I mentioned that I couldn't afford to send the boys to summer camps. After I returned the check he sent a floral arrangement as big as a house as apology. While this all sounds nice and is flattering, it means the eventual loss of a dear, dear friend.

I try to count my lucky stars, but they are burning out and falling out of the sky one by one.

Hail Mary, full of grace.
Our Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
Amen

If only I could believe...

I need a big ass eraser,one that rewinds time and erases all traces of debacles from the past.

I'm not so good at single motherhood; as a matter of fact, I've been an awful post-divorce parent. Truly awful. I am doing everything wrong. It's not like I've ever been Lady Madonna, but Jesus Christ, I've become fucking Joan Crawford. Granted the boys have been lazy and they don't always show appreciation for the good I've provided, but all of their time with me is heavy with demands, commands, and nagging corrections.

How was your day? Do you have much homework? Did you do your chores? Say please and thank you, are you going to practice today? Turn that off, did you brush your teeth, eat your vegetables, rinse your dishes and put them in the wash, did you set out your laundry for tomorrow? You call that clean? No I do not think it's funny that your buddy wore a medical mask to your predominately Hispanic high school, turn down that awful music....

The truth is that the boys rarely give me opportunity to praise them. Their grades suck, they don't work hard at anything, they neglect anything that pulls them away from video games, computers or obnoxious pranks with their buddies. All of my time with them feels like a morality tale.

While I've read Mom's House Dad's house and a gazillion other books about how one should behave in the wake of divorce, I still loose control and careen off track and out of control. I derailing off of the good parenting track one sad day after another like so many trains jack knifing off the rails.

The result is devastating and tragic. Both of my boys are plagued by anxiety attacks, when they aren't fighting me they are fighting each other. Since I've started dating, E has taken a turn for the worse. When I'm away from home he calls incessantly. If he can't reach me he panics. He has the same reaction when he can't reach his father.

E has become defiant over the least little thing, refusing to follow any of my rules. He balks at consequence, when I force an issue he threatens to destroy things or attacks with the most vile insults.

Last night E asked if he could have a friend over, I said no, because he hasn't done what he needs to do to bring his grades up. His ranting and raving created more consequence, he would have to make his own supper, wash his own laundry...

His brother started in, mirroring his brother when he didn't get the response he wanted from me. It was the tone, more than his demands that sent me looking my car keys.

I left the house to keep from lashing out. My fists were clinched and I was imagining a super ninja take down of devil children.

My phone started ringing before I reached the end of the block. More drama ensued as E called his father and his grandmother claiming there was no food in the fridge, this evoked all kinds of sympathy. E asked his father if he could stay with him and of course he refused. This is the man who listed regret for having children as one of the main reasons for wanting out. Before he exhausted his options, E called his grandmother who then called me with accusations and interrogation. When no one responded to his demands he called and left this message on my phone:

"Pick op the phone, you ugly fucking whore..."

When I told him I would have to share this with the psychologist on Monday he asked me if I wanted him to tell all of my "secrets."

My secrets?

He explained.

After fruitless efforts to have his father and grandmother bring him food and sympathy, he decided to rifle through my room in search of money to buy a Pizza.

He didn't find any money.

What he did find was a box of condoms hidden in my dresser.

My secrets?

My secret, is that I am completely and totally lost,

completely numb.