To the Woman Assaulted at Fry’s Grocery Store Today

You are strong.  You are raising a strong boy.

The people yelling at you today, before they even knew why YOU were yelling… they are the weak ones.

The people who didn’t even look your way, as you yelled, “Call the police! Call the Police” They are the weak ones.

The ones who were in your face and told YOU to calm down, but refused to even listen when you did…

I hugged you today, mother to mother. Yep, I’m that white girl.  When your boy put his arms out for a hug too, I saw how much he appreciated the respect.  And it bothered me.

I asked my husband on the way home, what he thought would have happened had it been me, a white woman, and my teenage son, in front of a packed grocery store in the late afternoon; screaming for someone to “call the police!” with an unmistakable fear in my voice. How different would my experience be? After what I witnessed today, there’s not even a smidgen of a doubt in my mind that the color of my skin puts me at an advantage, at least in this community,

The truth is, I didn’t see what happened.  I didn’t care what happened. All I care about is you and your family. I heard you screaming as we were getting into our truck.   When I got close enough to see your face, I also saw your son.  I saw the tears in his eyes as he stood, mature and strong,  while a white man, twice his size, got in his face.   I also heard one woman snicker, “they don’t serve those kind of burgers here” when you had to defend your panic to someone and proclaimed, “I just wanted to get some fucking turkey burgers!”.

I hugged you today because you looked scared.  And when I’m scared there’s nothing better than a reminder that I’m not alone!  I hugged you today because that’s what I would have needed at that moment.  It was weird… I am weird.  (That’s no secret). But that’s why.

I wanted to come back and give you my number… weird… I know… but I felt like I needed you to know that I gave a shit. Because I do.  And because I didn’t (come back and give you the number)… well, this.  ((hugs))

Same Kinda Crazy

So, I believe in this thing called Karma.  You get what you give, right.  In everything.  In relationships as brief as the driver of the car next to you on the interstate, to the most important, life-impacting ones in your life; family.  Family is who you choice to spend your time with.  Family is more than blood ties.  Family is devotion.  Family means having the same kind of crazy.

I’ve learned one very important thing from my grandparents and that is to build families.  They had her Caughlin Ranch family, their church family, then each they had their Girl Scouts and City Hall families.  They were so passionate about everything.  They truly did everything they could to love what they did.

My heart has always been with children.  My heart has always been with those who aren’t understood.  Likely because I was not (and still often am not) understood.  I’ve always known I belonged in a classroom.  And I think I’ve finally found my place.  A place where I can TRULY make a difference in someone’s life.  A place where I will be around a work FAMILY that share the same PASSIONS and feel the same societal responsibilities as I feel.  There’s so much to learn.  There’s so much to see.  There’s so much to explore, so many possibilities!!! (Kinda sounds like a song lyric, lol!)  But best of all, my crazy doesn’t feel so crazy.  It makes sense.

Thank you…

Thank you for being so cold. Thank you for being so conniving.  Thank you for making every, single, moment I have to spend in your presence uncomfortable, boring or uncomfortably boring.

Thank you for not believing in me.

Thank you for not wanting to give me a chance.  Thank you for not helping me when you had the opportunity.  Thank you for not investing in me.  Thank you for tossing me away.

Thank you for ignoring me.  Thank you for teasing me.

Thank you for hurting me.

Thank you.  I am now able to see what it’s all about.  My eyes are wide open and my heart is just the right amount of plump.  This balancing act has become second nature and my little world has been brighter than dark.

“no one is exempt from the odds of even”

50 Omaha Set Hut

I turned my phone off this morning once I talked to Mark on his first break.  Then I played with Aurora and Zana with absolutely no distractions.  Nothing crossed my mind in that time, that didn’t bring joy and happiness.

Then we took a nap.  Lyrik, Zana, Aleya, Rora and I.  It was probably the most beautiful moment in years.  No tv, nothing but talking and then falling asleep, the baby first, then followed in age order (oddly enough), so I decided to lay down in the middle of my pile of children and take one as well.

When I woke up with just Lyrik balled up almost above my head, I could hear Johnathan playing with the littles in the living room.

If you know Johnathan, you know his man crush has been Peyton Manning and has been since he was 5 years old.

As I lay, silent, but with my alll-so-important listening ears on (as I tell my class), I hear Johnathan sing “Fifty Omaha Set Hut” to Rora, who I can see in her highchair in the kitchen.  She squealed with excitement, but then I heard another voice.  It was Zana, who I can also see, reading a story in the playroom and she hit the tune (it’s a jingle in a Nationwide Insurance commercial) but I couldn’t make out the words.  J continues on with “losing fingers in my toes” and Zana goes, “losing fingers in my nose”.

I giggled and Zana turned red, but came running.  With her head sideways on the shoulder, she batted her baby blue eyes and full on belly flopped on top of me. In the same motion, she threw her arms around my neck.

I miss this.  I miss them.

Where have I been?  Why does my heart hurt so much when it should be so full?

I will stop and enjoy this life I was given alongside the lives I helped create and the crazed singer that chose to enjoy it with me…

It just might kill me…

Screw One Day… Take Each Moment at a Time

My FAVORITE picture , out of the THOUSANDS I went through this past weekend, for so many reasons.

I cried tonight.  Then I laughed. Then I cried and laughed at the same time, like a mad woman.

My house is in one piece.  Not any better than I left it, but not any worse, so I guess I should not have complained.  But, of course, I did.

I snapped on almost everyone today, from a stranger on Facebook, my mom and the kids; whom I haven’t seen in far too many days.  Not to mention he who gets the brunt of my verbal lashings; Mark.

I almost finished (honestly, re-finished) Manson’s book.  I’m intrigued by people.  Reading calms me.

I ate breakfast and dinner.

I miss my Uncle Tim and wish I had asked him the questions I have.  I wish I knew what to say to the girls.  I wish I hadn’t moved to Arizona. I wish Cancer didn’t exist and that I could find comfort in my faith.

I wish my Grandpa was home and I could be like Brad Pitt’s character that ages backward and be young, naive and unaware of the atrocities that the human race finds acceptable.  Then I would walk blindly, as my Grandma does.  Blind, but at peace.

I wish I could take away the pain.  I wish I could make things better.

I wish I knew what to do, so I could help everyone else figure it out.

Bubbled

I am sitting in my bathroom, in an empty bathtub with my black cat by my side.  He is stalking a bird that is on the fence directly outside the window that is above me.

Times like today, I feel like I’m in a bubble. I hear the chaos of the world around me but it sounds like background noise. I’m attentive to the needs of the kids and myself, but it’s like I’m just going through the motions.  I’m doing what I have to do, but there is absolutely nothing that I want to do.  Once pleasurable acts like eating feel near impossible.  My arms physically hurt, both of them and my neck and head haven’t stopped pounding all weekend.

I feel like the indoor cat, watching what life could be like.  Dreaming, maybe?

Doctor’s appointment this afternoon and going to see Grandpa again. I’m thinking I’ll go see him first, that way I can come home less stressed and try to salvage the evening with my favorite people.

If Chuck Norris and Batman had a son…

At this very moment, I’m watching my 3 year old tackle my 14 year old to get the football he almost always has in his possession.  He is annoyed, trying to watch the playoff game, but stays attentive to her and only after a brief pause to watch The Discount Double Check Dude fuck up a drive, returns to their “football game” in the living room.  Scratch that, DDCD then immediately threw for a touchdown and the entire house erupted in “Touchdown”.  Mark is visibly unhappy with the boys enthusiasm… Greenbay is playing Dallas.  But whatever.

Aurora is in her crib, playing with her toys and occasionally mimicking things she is hearing between Aleya and Lyrik, who are playing XBox in the living room (we’re very on top of each other here, Aurora is in our room and Leya and Lyrik are about 20 feet way in the “formal dining room” turned playroom turned Ryan and Lyrik’s room.  Aleya and Lyrik have grown up in the age of not playing video games, but watching OTHER people play video games and narrate them.   If nothing else, it’s given them a great sense of humor and almost genius comedic timing.  So I guess, I’m satisfied with her choice of inspiration.

I’m supposed to take Aleya to Girl Scouts today.  I’m supposed to make girls feel united and like sisters.  I’m trying to get into that “fun” mode.  I’m trying to fake myself into believing that I am ok and can do this all.  But just between you and me… I’m breaking.  But I’ve been broken before and I know how to put myself back together.  And Johnathan is just so awesome, he’s probably the most awesome person in the entire universe, if Chuck Norris and Batman had son, Johnathan would still be better.

Yes…. and that…  ❤ #143J

My Legacy

I will push past your expectations.
I will overcome every one of your carefully placed obstacles.
I will never give in.
It’s not about not letting you win.
It’s not about proving anything to you or feeding my Feminist ego.
It’s about me.  It’s about being who I want to be.

It’s about my Legacy.

It’s about teaching my daughters to never be held down.
To never become too dependent or too independent.
It’s about knowing when to throw away the towel and when to mop up the mess and just toss it in the wash.
It’s about love.
About loyalty.
About lessons.
About life.
It’s about showing the boys that girls aren’t weak and in need of guidance, but are leaders and fire-starters in their own right!

It’s my Legacy.

Strength

“The most high exalting and I ain’t halting
Till I die of exhaustion inhale my exhaust fumes
The best part about me is I am not you
I’m me and I’m the Fire Marshall and this is my

Legacy, legacy, eh”

-Eminem, Legacy

Our birthday

Today is our birthday.  We’ve shared 31 birthdays now.  Thirty-one.

This day has always sucked.  I’ve never been a good birthday girl.  In fact, as a child, I recall being in trouble most of my birthdays. It was better to have been in trouble and angry than to have been sad. Why? Because no matter how hard anyone tried, no matter what amazing gifts I got, no matter how many hugs my Grandma gave me or laughs my mom tried to make me laugh, the ONE thing I wanted, every, single year, I never got.

A phone call.  One, fucking phone call.

For as far as  I can remember, that was all I wanted.  I got damn near every material thing I asked for.  And I have not one, but two amazing parents who love me more than words, one who truly didn’t have to. Not to mention that my Grandparents are most definitely the very coolest grandparents… ever…  That should be enough, right?

But it’s not. I’m a selfish, vile human being. I still, at fucking thirty-one, JUST want that phone call.

How pathetic is that? I have an amazing family.  Six absolutely gorgeous, unique, hilarious and perfect little human beings to whom I am the center of their universe. I mean, truly… who needs more than that??

Fuck.  Apparently, that would be me…

Because, still, today… I just wanted that freaking phone call.

It’s crazy immature.  It’s ridiculously dramatic and quite hypocritical.  I know a phone works two ways.   But it sucks.  To be the “bigger person” when I am ALWAYS the “bigger person” and when I’m literally, not supposed to be the bigger person in our relationship.  To cry because you don’t call, but not call you because I’m crying.  It sucks.  You SUCK.

But I still… just want a phone call for our birthday.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

I Will Not Be Quiet

I will not sit down.  I will stand up when my heart and brain so see it fit…and sometimes when just one or the other do.  I’m just being honest.

You can consider this your fair warning.  I am not politically correct. I will not be shamed into silence for the sake of safeguarding your naive peace.  I will say the things I believe because your peace needs to be shaken .  Your peace needs to be challenged.  And you know what, you need to invite that challenge! You need to encourage that challenge!   I, gladly BEG of you to challenge mine!

Without challenge, we sit still.  Our creative, spontaneous muscles shrink and slowly become replaced with boring, monotone repetition.   Sure, repetition may create more muscles, but instead of the beautiful rainbow that creativity, deep-thought and emotion bring, the muscles are instead, a boring shade of grey.

I miss my rainbows. I’m bringing them back.

You’ve been warned…

 

photo: https://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/212673112/in/photostream/lightbox/