A Mothers Vent

My children and I were sitting down to yet another night of Mac-n-Cheese and whatever vegetable was in the refrigerator, when my third eldest said "mom, we should take a vacation and go to Hawaii"; I coughed and almost choked on my .95 Mac-n-Cheese. "Honey", I replied "if you think we could afford a holiday in Hawaii or for that matter anywhere, would we be sitting here eating this cardboard tasting cheap dinner?" I cannot even afford to buy decent food let alone take a holiday. It was certainly a let down for all of them. They moaned and pouted throughout the rest of our meek dinner...I felt like a loser of a mom. Wow, I thought to myself I cannot even take my kids on a two day holiday anywhere, there are no funds to be had. Now, if I had not put braces on all 4 of them, taken out college loans for the eldest, have them in a tuition laden school, buy them clothes, pay for their medical and dental insurance, drive them wherever they wish to go, let their friends live here for free, buy them birthday, Christmas gifts, pay for their driver’s license, pay for their haircuts, their electricity, their water, their Netflix, their shampoo, tooth paste, make up, their books, school needs, social needs, extra curriculum school activities, piano lessons, house rent, paints, canvas...(need I go on)then maybe I would have the funds and would be able to take them on a much needed holiday. But this is not the case. Someone has to take care of them and I do it all with love, care and moments of serenity.
After "I" did the dinner dishes and finished helping them with their homework and finished all my papers for my classes I had them sit down in front of our little TV and made them watch a beautiful film called "The Human Experience." They all protested at first but they did not cross me at that moment, they knew I was not to be out voted. "The Human Experience" is a film made by two young men in their early 20's who had grown up in a very low income part of Queens, NY and dealt with growing up along gangs, thugs and alcoholic and drug addicted parents...who basically did not give a damn about them. These young men set out on a journey experiencing life from every angle. They first lived homeless in the streets of NY for an entire month. Sleeping in card board boxes, begging for money for food and showering in shelters. After a month of grime and hunger (and the loss of 20 pounds apiece) they decided to go further. They went back to living at their previous home, which was a house run by a church where they began to work and saved money to go to third world countries. They documented their experience through the lens of a hand held camera.
There most saddening and rewarding moments came as they struggled to help keep children alive from malnutrition and disease in India and lived with an orphanage in Peru where all the children were mentally or physical handicap. They fell in love with all these children and lived as they did not knowing if they would survive the coming days or weeks or months. The love and tenderness they gave all of these children and the respect they gave to those who cared for them was insurmountable.
These young men wanted nothing in return 9unlike so many other Americans, who feel these deserve everything and more), they just wanted to help in any way human possible way. It was beautiful, heart wrenching, sad but glorious.
From the corner of my eyes I watched my children viewing this film and saw their expressions change from fear, sadness and elation. They all cried during moments of tenderness and when viewing and hearing how some of these children were treated by parents and society. I wanted my children to see how blessed we are, how much they have, how the rest of the world lives. Yes, so many millions of people have so, so, so much more than we do but we survive and are healthy (with the exception of my eldest) and have a Government that sometimes gives a shit about us.
At the end of the film my children were somber but full of questions and statements. It was what I wanted; I prevailed at teaching my children through the eyes of others just how much we have. It was a good night. I taught them a valuable lesson that I believe so many parents do not. Not saying all parents other than myself do not teach their children values, principles and morals, for I am not the best mother, I do not always make the best decision but I try and try and try to do what is best for my children and those that stumble into my home when they have no other place to go. However, if we could all teach our children that living is a gift perhaps they would find more reason to be filled with joy for what they have and not what they want?

A Mothers' Vent again

Last week's vent was not necessarily something that I am proud about. It had been a tumultuous week, needless to say. My eldest had been diagnosed with Manic Bi-Polar, Schizophrenia. My first born, my brilliant, most talented child. Beautiful, eccentric, but ill. Very ill and of course will not take her meds. She is 18...there is nothing I can do but try and gain guardianship for her. But as usual it is easier to walk down the street with a bottle of Jack, in a bunny suit pulling 10 Kangaroos on leashes than it is too gain real mental health care. As well as that unfortunate situation, another inevitable undesirable, sad, life altering situation occurred; my father at the age of 81 passed away without any of his children by his side. As I stated it was a tumultuous week and again, if I hurt anyone's feelings or was not politically aware or respectful I apologize.

Now for the real vent. We slave as mothers out of love. We go through the nine months of change and loving from the moment we know we have another incredible life inside of us (what a gift...I think I would feel cheated had I not been a women...just to give birth) we go through the pain, real pain of giving birth, we deplete our natural God given resources until they are no longer viable until the next pregnancy, we cook, clean, change diapers, wake in the middle of the night regardless if they are crying or not...we wake because it is what we do, we kiss the booboo’s, we hurt when they hurt, we give guidance, we give advice, we praise and praise and give them everything that we are...just for them because we created them they are ours. Until they are no longer ours. That is usually around 14 maybe 15. We are no longer the center of their universe, there are rare moments when they stroke our arm and ask if we are ok? It is rare when their sentences begin with "us..".it is usually now "I" or "what." I need this, I need that, what about me, what about the new clothes you promised, I need a car when I turn 16, I think you are stupid, I am right you are wrong, what about my party, what about my allowance...oh I forgot the "can I...do this, do that, go here, go there...so and so's mom said she could, he could, they could."

Perhaps if they did not go through this mind blowing, frustrating phase from about age 14 to 24 maybe, just maybe I would not be the parent I thought I was. I am accepting of the 'I" and the "what" and the everything that they come up with because they are growing up and recognizing themselves as individuals. It is hard, sad but a very real part of being a parent to let go and let them make their own decisions...even when you tell them that decision is going to bite them in the behind. It has been a hell of a ride having to let go of even one, but I guess that is what it means to give life and get old (er).

My children were going through old photos and came across this one. This was 1999, it was the night before I was leaving for France for a week to attend a seminar in regards to Anthropology. That was the first time I had ever left my children for more than a night which was for giving birth to another most loved child. Wild. Wild. Wild. Ok, I changed the rotation in "paint" but it did not occure here.

 

A Mother's Vent off the beaten path.

It is a sunny morning today (9.8.2012...I think) and I take a walk with the dogs to Circle K to pick up half and half and juice for the children. While I am at CIRCLE K I am approached by an elderly man who appears very sick, emaciated, unkempt, open sores covering his face and body he also has a dog who looks literally lifeless. He asks for money. Those of you that know me, know I have not two dimes to rub together and can barely keep my head above water due to all the children needs' and the lack of help from their conceiver's known as dead beat fathers.

I go back in to CIRCLE K and purchase, sandwiches, chips, vitamin packets, band-aids, dog food, gallons of water and a huge candy bar. I do not purchase cigarettes nor alcohol for the homeless man, I purchase what he needs to survive at least for the rest of the weekend. As I am paying for the items with my maxed out Visa the non English speaking witch with the painted on eyebrows and paint by color make up informs me in her broken English that purchasing food or items for the homeless on their property is against CIRCLE K policy.

Yes, I keep my cool and do not lash out at the pimply face, foul smelling illegal for following CIRCLE K policies. She too wants to keep her job, a job that allows someone such as her self that is most likely not legal...

I tell her I have changed my mind and that I will purchase the items for myself. She begins to get attitude. I let her go through her words filled with incorrect grammar and spittle which I happen to dodge although a couple wet ones do land on my cheek. I purchase my items walk out go to the homeless man and begin to help him put them in his cart. I open the bag of dog food pour some in the ground and the dog immediately begins to devour the food. I search for an empty cup in the near by garbage to fill it with water for the dog. The man is grateful and in tears. I am almost in tears and wanting like to hell to have money in my life to help these people out. After sitting with the homeless man for a few minutes helping him organize his basket filled with filthy blankets, empty bags, one shoe a police car pulls right up and two offices get out their car and come up to me and ask me for my ID? WTF?

I don't have my ID I have my CC and that is it and my three dogs...which are all getting very, very agitated especially Jetta my Belgian Malinous ex-Patrol dog for Las Vegas International Airport.

They tell me I have to leave the CIRCLE K premises because I went against what the non English pimply faced clown wearing make up bimbo told me.

I leave with my pride and tell the homeless man I hope he has a good day and not to eat too fast or he will get sick.

My dogs are all growling not at the homeless man but at the two patrol officers and that pathetic watse of space non human CIRCLE K employee (who has come out side to watch in all her glory). I am afraid I cannot control the dogs and they are going to attack them. I get my dogs in line we begin to walk towards my home but I turn around before they all disperse and ever so gently with such pose and grace I call to them all and beautifully give then the finger.

What is happening to this Country is beyond me. We are all rich with luck that we have a roof over our heads, we have medical care, we have AHHHCS, Cigna, a car, enough money to not be on the streets (barely). We are all rich...and blessed and this poor man due to bureaucracy, lack of mental health care in AZ, red tape, policies and capitalism...what about him and others like him? What a selfish Nation/State/CIRCLE K Corporattion.

I was informed that I was no longer allowed in that CIRCLE K. Like I really give a flying F? Please, really, seriously?

Forgive me if there are spelling errors in my ranting I am not really carrying about my grammar at this time.

My vent is over.

Venting Mother Part 2

August 29
Dr. Arini
                                                Another Mother's Vent
Honestly, at this moment I can barely remember anything other than my name. I came home after the 38 mile drive picking up all the kids, stopping to get bread, apples, dog food, cat food, bird food and one little tiny bottle of Merlot. Notice, I did purchase something for me which is a rarity...unless it is coffee, carrots and/or Merlot. I had my heart set on writing as soon as I came home, but it is not going to happen.
Upon turning down my street there are three cars in front of my home. Crap. Ex-ass holes truck, children's' friend's automobiles; too many of them. I knew it was not going to be calm enough to just sit in my locked bedroom and write. Children, kids, babies, I don't know about my fellow students, but I could not have imagined my life without them. I would have had ten if it had been possible. It was not (blessing in disguise). However, there are so many, many different reasons that one wonders just what the hell was I thinking?
Again, I cannot really write and finish my blog. Eight teenagers are currently in my home driving the great Danes crazy, raiding my less than filled refrigerator, and seeking immunity as to who has grabbed my computer case with all my papers from work and the 14 month old beautiful, gorgeous baby who time here appears to be indefinitely is crying and only, only, only wants me to hold him. Ahhhh, believe me that is salvation right there. I would gladly take that little bundle of love and soak him with kisses as he babbles to me about what all the kids have been doing.
August 29
Determined to finish my first blog and give the second part of my day to those that feel that having no children is such a chore and oh so tiring and exhausting. Here let me tell you what it is like to have children.
Once I leave my office at 5:00 pm, my cool, crisp fresh office that holds over 500 employees, we all make a mad dash to the covered parking lot that also is five stories high. I am bright, smart and take the stairs while so many of the either lame, or upper echelon wait in the heat for an elevator that takes just as long to reach them as a one legged goose trying to climb an ice mountain. I am already at my car beeping it open and jumping in and zooming off hoping to be at least one of the few first dozen at the exit lane where one must beep their badge in order for the arm to raise. This is always a cluster fu#k. I simple do not know what is wrong with the males in my building?  If they really wanted to show chivalry and be the man in whom men are to be, then they should just wait in the building until all the women have made it through the garage exit; simple strategy. Maybe I will bring it up at the next female vs. male meeting.
I begin my drive first to Scottsdale to pick up my 14 year from her HS, then back on the freeway to Tempe to pick up the other three. As usual not one of them is at the same waiting spot so the game begins. The first child emerges from the bush, I say" sweetie, where is your brother, where is your sister?" she says " I don't know", I say "ok, get in the car, put your belt on", then the cruising part takes over. We drive to Eddies Pizza, no, not there, drive to the little coffee hut, no, no there and then I begin to stress; rubbing my forehead , breathing deeply and loudly pushing the heated air through my nostrils feeling like a bull that is about to gore anything that get in my way. In a half high pitched yelling whisper I say to the two first children "where the hell are your siblings???" There usually is not an answer they know better than to say anything. All they can think if is what they are going to say to their siblings once we locate them and tell them they are fools doing this to mom because everyone suffers. Aha! I spot them at the park. My hippy long haired blond, blued eyed kick back form the surfer 70's days, son and his red eyes and my itty bitty teal colored hair child who lived in NYC attending Parsons until she thought the walls in the halls were talking to her. I explained it was NYC every wall talks to you because the walls are only made out of 150 year old tinder boxes and every word that any one utters is heard. Well she thought they were talking to hr...yes, she is not home again attending another school.
 Now to pick up the baby; this is the easiest and most beautiful part, because we all love him and he makes our rotten, poopy, broke lives filled with love and laughter. We all are baby fanatics. Every one of my children automatically since they were big enough to hold babies have all done the baby swing, the baby hold with the hips and is able to coo and love any child to sleep. They got that from me and only me.
It is now heading to be about 6:30 and I must get home and let the fun begin. Dishes from the morning breakfast are done first, then I switch out laundry, then take out the garbage, change the garbage bag, feed the zoo and supervise everyone on the kitchen table getting their homework out and telling them to stop yelling and calling one another dumb ass. All the while I have baby on my hip and he is just babbling away as happy as can be. Between the dishes, laundry, baby, homework and the great Danes milling around me I try to get dinner started. Now, I use to pride myself on being a great cook...I could create anything, talk on the phone, cook a brilliant meal, nurse a baby, and push the other baby in the stroller all at once and not burn anything while I was cooking. Now...I burn everything even jello. It simply does not matter. I have become a burnaholic, a burn-0-rama. Yahoo, I say it is Mac and Cheese, carrots, celery, avocado, garlic bread, strawberry's and whatever that orange thing is. I don't think anyone hears me or really cares except for baby and he is happy with anything I say because he has no idea as to what I am even talking about.
It is now 7:45 and time to eat. I set out the plates, the bowls, the utensils, the glasses, the various drinks, the napkins, the ketchup, the sugar,  peanut butter, the everything that will make their dinner more enjoyable. I do not allow their phone or anything electronic at the table. They are fine with this because they know I am so busy trying to answer every ones questions about everything and trying to feed baby that I will not even notice that they are texting away like speed racer in the middle of the night. However, I do know I just do not have the energy to even argue or say anything about it. Dinner is finally over and I begin to get the dishes started at least stacked up in the kitchen sink and clean off the dining table. I begin to get their homework and crap off the table and into individuals' rooms so I can get ready to give baby a bath and finish folding clothes and give the dogs a fast walk around the block while the kids get baby ready for bed.
I still have a huge spread sheet to work on before attempting to fall asleep and another paper to write for another class. I would also like to find my bed...I now it is there, I have seen it before. Is it a beautiful king with a wonderful vintage comforter that I bought in Berlin a few years ago...I know it is there...I can smell it. It still smells like Schnitzel, Sauerkraut and my ex-husband who was from Frankfurt. A little vomit just came up my throat. 
It is now 10pm and all my babies are in bed, at least two of them are reading, one is on Netflix the other on iPad and the baby sound asleep in my arms; time to put him in his crib so I can start my night. I go to each of my beautiful children and exchange kisses and I loves you with them and back into my room I go, to my desk where immediately my Danes are at my feet vying for my attention. I love my world. I love my babies all of them. I love my life. Cough, cough.  A little tickle in my throat.

Venting Mothers' Blog

This is the first blog I have every participated in.

I try with all my might to not add sarcasm into so much I write. But with all honesty I find it more than difficult. I vent. We all vent. Does not matter who we are, which economic social status we find our selves in...I find myself in one and one only and it is not the glamorous one that does not have a day to day stress factor trying to keep within a budget.  A way of life, the daily grind raising four children as a single mother, living off one income (mine) and receiving not a penny of child support or alimony. Now when I vent, I do not look for : sympathy, I simply want to vent. Venting is a cheaper, safer way of keeping sanity. In other words opening a bottle of wine and locking the bedroom door behind me to keep out the numerous amount of children that are raising havoc in my house, keeping the zoo of animals from following me and vying for my attention and simply keeping everything that is reality on the other side of that door. Do not want to do that, it would not be fair to the children nor the zoo.
Friday August 24, 2012. Up at 4:30, one sick child out of four...not bad, an extra child the age of 13 months with me for an extended amount of time, driving one child to Scottsdale for school, driving back to Mesa to get the others off to their school in Tempe, dropping off the baby at day care and then rushing to Chandler to get arrive at my job by 7:30 am. This is the daily grind of the morning. By the time I get to my office I am wiped out, done, spent and ready to find that door.
I do not take a lunch, for if I were to do this is would feel too close to some false luxury and I might get used to it. I work above and beyond for fear that if I do not I will be looked upon as a slacker. I know there are a few woman in my office that are also faced with the reality of being a single parent and I feel for them, but then I know the majority of the women I work with have a husband, a significant other that helps with the bills, dinners, lunches, doctor appointments, dental appointments, teacher conferences, perhaps the laundry, the vacuuming, the yard, the zoo, the up keep of the car (I am trying to find the time to learn the skills of changing my own car oil) and everything else that takes place in the world of day to day living.
I watched my mother do the same exact thing but she had five children and was lucky enough to have child support and alimony but it did take its toll on her and she decided enough was enough and left in the middle of the night to Guadalajara with some man she had met at a car wash. It was several decades before we saw her again.Makes me laugh now. But I digress.
It is a wonder so many of us even get through a day knowing during the tossing and turning of the constant fitful sleep that takes place on a nightly basis that another day is upon us.
I will wait to return to my blog to start on the second half of the day: the leaving of my office at an early 5:00 pm and the commencement of the driving all over town to begin the process of picking up children and stressing about the rest of the day.
Yes, I find venting very useful although it has brought on some rather unusual remarks from some of my very close friends...they are all married, all stay at home mom's that bake cookies all day and wow, find the time and money to spend countless hours at the salon.
I love my children they are my entire life, I love my zoo. I am the care taker of all and I do it with love, sweat and tears, but I do it and somehow, someway, perhaps through the grace of God or Buddha or the universe I survive...with a crooked smile and a tarnished halo.