Laying Tiger to rest today...

I've been taking care of a kitty that doesn't belong to me for a while now. His owner lived in a neighborhood on a busy road in Ft. Worth, and this cat doesn't allow you to leave him indoors. So, I took him in. Hey...free cat food.

About a week after my beloved Tigie went missing, the house-guest kitty (Simba) came home one evening quite lethargic. The next morning he started to hemorrhage, and continued bleeding for about an hour. With no way to get him to a vet, and no money to afford one..I took care of him the best I could. After about 3 days, he started acting better. He was walking around, eating, drinking without me holding the bowl under his nose. He was still 'leaking', not blood..but not good either (gross, I'm sorry) so I had to keep him in the garage. Then in my bathroom once it got too cold outside. The last 2 days, he's been slowly losing steam. He was lethargic again, couldn't eat or drink without my help. Yesterday, it was again warm enough to put him in the garage. My bathroom had started to stink pretty bad, regardless of how many times I put out clean sheets.

I knew when I carried him back to the garage that he was a goner. His eyes were glazed over, and he was so limp. When I put him down, he stood there shaking until I moved his body into a laying position. At some point, he moved to the concrete floor and stretched out. My guess is he had a high fever, and died sometime in the night.

At this moment, the kids don't know. I'm waiting on Simba's owner to come take care of his body. The garage door is locked, so the kids won't inadvertently find him.
I am pissed off at this 'friend' of mine. The cat wasn't important enough for him to drive out here and get to a vet. But he offered to come 'get rid of him' for me days ago. I assumed that meant abandoning a very sick animal, which wasn't exactly an option. I didn't love Simba, but I couldn't allow him to be tossed aside like that...while he was still living, anyway.

Theres also the little fact that Tigie is still missing. Though, I really can't say I believe he's alive anymore. Watching Simba go through this hell made me very paranoid that someone is either purposely or stupidly hurting animals around here.
Something isn't right, and I can only pray if that is the case, that Tigie didn't hold on as long as Simba did.

I was never a cat person. Once, a long time ago.. I had Gypsy. I loved her, but never felt the need to replace her when she jumped over the balcony to go make a family, and never returned. Tiger was my lovey. He was a link to my best friend, and I cherished him all the more for that. I've missed him for almost 3 weeks now, and held out hope that he'd come home to me. Even after Simba became so ill, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was watching him die of the same thing that took Tiger from me. I didn't want to believe what I felt deep down.

We know when we lose something precious to us. If we listen to our hearts, we'll hear the truth. I've known Tiger was gone, and couldn't or wouldn't admit it to myself. So, I'm admitting it now. I'm laying him to rest in my heart and letting go.

P.S. Jennifer, I'm so sorry.

Solo Parenting & The Other Dad

This weekend is one of the weekends that the two oldest Turkey's spend with their Dad. One of the upsides of moving back to DF-Dub (vs. fighting it out with the X in Colorado for however long) was that they would be closer to him. Who, regardless of his inability to grow up & become an adult, is a fantastic Dad. Loves those kids with his entire being. He's a good guy. We were simply way too young (16 when we met & 19 when we had the first Turkey.) and way too different to be together. Fortunately, we were never married. Fortunately, we both agree that our kids rock. Fortunately, I have difficulties coming up with other words when my mind is stuck on fortunately.

If he and I were able to simply parent our children without his parent's guidance, we would probably have very little in the way of difficulties. But, his Mother. Oh. Lord. Help. Me.
This woman is the bane of my existence. She's the Tom to my Jerry. The Hillary to my Sarah. The, the, the.....DEVIL.

I recently bought my oldest Turkey (9) a pay as you go cell phone from AT&T. Calls to her Dad, his parents & girlfriend, me and my parents were all free. Any other calls she made were $.10 per minute. (With a fee of a dollar per day). The stipulation was that she has to pay to put minutes on it. As expected, because she's 9, once the first $15 that I put on there was gone, she didn't have the patience to save her money to get more minutes.
Cut to last week. I'm on the phone with her Dad's girlfriend. (Why? Someone please tell me why the hell I have to deal with her?) She tells me that "Nana" has bought the oldest Turkey a cell phone. Put it on her plan like everybody else in their family.
Whoa. Wha? Excuse Me? Your Kidding Me. Right?

I'd really like to give that woman a piece of my mind. The problem is this. She's got money. There is a reason that she can afford to support her 28 year old son, and his girlfriend in high style. And she can use that money just as easily to hire an attorney to take me back to court.
I don't have the funds available. Partly because, when we first went to court I stupidly asked for nothing but my children. I didn't request child support. I wanted my kids.

So, I keep my mouth shut. When they ask if they can pick the kids up 3 hours early and drop them off 2 hours late, I say, "of course." When they claim that they have a 4th of July "Tradition" even though the papers clearly state to alternate holidays, I suck it up and take the baby to my parents without the rest of my crew, then make apologies to the cousins they haven't seen in a year.
When my daughter is taught that rules are made to be broken. When my son is taught that he has a right to play video games and that I'm mean for sending him outdoors to play. When they're both told that I should feed them foods that they enjoy instead of "being selfish in the kitchen"...
I keep quiet. I smile when he brings his girlfriend to pick up my children and they take off running to jump into her arms. I laugh when my son mistakenly calls her Mom, then looks at me with a guilty expression on his face. And, I let the tears pour down my face when their car pulls out of the driveway.

When his Mother decides that she's ready for my kids to live in her house again (did I forget to mention that he still lives with his parents?), she'll pay for her son to take me back to court. She'll buy him the best attorney money can buy.
And all I'll be able to fight back with is the consistency of my parenting. Two children who are doing fantastic in school, who are well fed, groomed, and certainly loved. And, my willingness to adapt myself so that they can continue to have a healthy and vibrant relationship with their Father.

I have all of this on the brain today, because I promised Lyss that I would invite her Dad and the GF over for dinner, and am feverishly trying to figure out what to prepare to make myself look like the culinary genius that I pretend to be. I'm going to have to also figure out a way to make myself not look to be a bitter, angry, demented bitch woman because of all this drama swirling about in the shadows.

Will you help me? I have less than 2 weeks to prepare.

School is sucking me dry...

At this fabulous time in my life, I am without a vehicle. My husband and I had bought a super perdy Mitsubishi Galant Ralliart about a year ago. Then, sold my mini-van and bought him a motorcycle.
When I told him I was leaving, he agreed to pay the car note & insurance in lieu of child support. (Cause the last thing he wants to do is spend his hard earned money directly on his child)
Before I had a chance to even move out of our home, I found out that he hadn't been paying the car note. Of course he wanted me to take it. He knew I wouldn't be pimpin' it too long.
He never did pay the note, and my beautiful car was repossessed a few weeks ago. I'm working my way up to paying cash for a semi-beater because the last thing I need in my life right now is another bill. In the meantime, I'm relying on a dear friend to take me wherever I need to go. Problem is, it's a 30 minute drive to get to me. It truly sucks, because I am not a planner. I've never been a list person...even though I. Try. So. Hard. In order to be (*ahem*) afoot, you must be able to plan. Otherwise, you go to the store and you forget staples like sugar and tortillas.
Who forgets sugar? And, we use tortillas daily around here. (Great for rolled up PB&J's for the baby Turkey)
So yesterday, as I was pondering the fact that there are 2 recipes in the universe that don't call for sugar, and both of them call for tortillas...my Angel Faced 2nd Turkey hands me a note in RED writing that says "Bring snacks for 21 kids." That's all. No, please. No Thank you. I don't know about you, but RED writing from a teacher always scares the crap out of me. I found myself huddled in the bathtub with a woobie wrapped around me and my thumb in my mouth while rocking back and forth and crying, "Mommy?" "Mommy?"
Then I remembered that I am Mommy. Shit.
What I would like to know is, when the hell did school get so friggin' expensive? Why am I bringing snacks once a month for the entire class? Is there a party every day? Why are school pictures taken twice a year now? (And, why are the Spring pictures so much nicer than the Fall pictures?) Why are there Book fairs every damn month? Why did I buy $80 worth of school supplies for the boy only to be told that I need to send another $40 for more supplies?
There are forms every week for t-shirts, bags, fundraisers, money, money, money!
And, if you don't send the money that the school wants, you doom your child to be the only kid in the WHOLE SCHOOl that doesn't have his/her whole body plastered with the school name. (Which in our case is just not a real appealing one.)
I actually used to love doing the kids school parties. Making pretty platters of fruit & cheese...Now, you get no choice. The day before the party you get a note demanding to see 87 pizzas from the Italian eatery 2 states away on the teachers desk before noon the next day. And, it's written in red ink.

(That's my Daddy up there...and dang. I miss that car!)

~ What they don't teach in sex ed ~

I am a mediocre Mother. I've learned, in the past 9 years, to suck in my pride & deal with it.
I've been known to *gasp* forget on Tooth Fairy night(s)! I'm guilty of hollering at the Turkeys for leaving backpacks & lunchboxes strewn throughout the living room, kitchen & dining room, while the diaper bag, and my purse, & shoes are just tossed wherever they happened to land when I tornadoed through the door. My weekend catchphrase is, "If your hungry...make yourself some food."

All these things, (and more...oh Lordy! SO much more!!) conspire to instill in me a daily gut wrenching of "Mom guilt"

(I'm convinced that if we could make all girls between the ages of 12-20 feel a smidgen of the guilt their children will cause them....we'd have a serious decline in teenage & unwanted pregnancy's!)

I try and bribe my guilty conscience with the ideology that I really do have great kiddo's and so, I must be doing something right. Right? But, in all honesty, I don't think anything I'll do will ever be enough.

Those kids rock. And they roll. And they're the bomb dot com.
I think...(and what I think is the only thing that matters since I'm the one raising the buttheads)
that having guilt is all part of being a parent. Maybe I'd feel a little less guilt if I had millions of dollars and could give them all their hearts desire, but there would be something still.
I feel guilty when my son tells me he's bored. A little pang in my chest telling me that I need to find something fun, creative, constructive to engage his beautiful brain so it doesn't turn to mush.
I feel guilty when my oldest daughter tells me a girl in class was mean to her; like I should have been there to tell the other girl off.
Mean girls don't disappear with money. I'm willing to bet they get worse, actually. Boredom & Money have never really seemed to just be cool. They usually end up in a 3-some with drugs or worse.

Tonight the baby didn't want to go to sleep. I kept laying her back down with her woobies, her sister's "Lucky" lion (we give her what she wants. we don't fight it), giving her kisses, smoothing her blankets, and singing her lullabies......ok. no lullabies. They ask me to stop when I sing.

But she just kept popping back up. Like a friggin' Jack 'n' the Box. She doesn't just get up and roam around though. Oh no. She beelines straight to me with her lips puckered up and makin' kissy noises! The demon!
How do you punish that? I can't tell her to go back to bed and ignore those elusive kisses! And, once I've kissed her, I can't punish her for being up again.
After about 14 tuck-ins, woobie searches, & kissy marathons ~ I finally lost it. Kid had to go to sleep. I told her I was going to spank her fanny if she got up again. She didn't listen. Surprise...surprise. I fought those little lips though! I used my super human Mom shield to fight the magnetic pull they have over me, and I smacked her little diaper, turned her around and marched her right back to bed.

Ignoring those tears was the worst part of my day.
I wanted to run in there, scoop her up, and snuggle her little sobs away. But, I acted like a parent who has to teach her children limits, rules, routine....blah blah freakin' blah.

The point is. I did what I had to do in order to maintain my status as Alpha Dog around here. If I didn't, these Turkeys would skateboard all over me. But, it sucks. So, now...I'm sitting here with "Mom guilt" wishing I could wake my baby up and tell her that I didn't mean it. She can do her Jack 'n' the box routine all night long if she wants to.... as long as she gives me those sweet 'n' sloppy kisses in return!

Good Night & Tip Your Waitresses!


P.S. She went right to sleep after I showed her diaper who's the boss around this dump!

Pitiful Conversations

It's so sad what children do to their Mother's social life. We go from being care-free and clickin' our heels...to dragging 90 pound diaper bags around our necks like a noose. OK, maybe not quite that dramatic...but take this conversation I had with a dear friend the other day;

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

Me: "Hello"?

Dear Friend: "Hey! Haven't heard from you in a while, just wanted to check in!"

Me: "Oh! Hey Lady, what's crackilackin?" (Yep..I really said that)

DF: "Oh not much...just getting kids ready for school..you know how that goes. How 'bout you?"

Me: "Just about the sa...."

DF: "Wait, hang on one sec, "GRAYSON, I SAID, IS YOUR ROOM CLEAN???"....Sorry about that, oh wait, No, Grayson...not those paper towells, those are Daddy's garage towells. Use these. OK. Sorry again. Go ahead."

Me: "Oh well, I was just saying things are..."

DF; "hang on...hang on. Sorry. Kimberly? Kimberly? Is that you? Kimberly? Kimberly?hang on one sec"

Me: "Um, ok."

*phone muffles...barely*

DF: "KIMBERLY JANE. GET in HERE! Do you not hear me calling you? Kimberly? Kimberly? KIMBERLY??!!?!?!??!"
"Oh my goodness....TEENAGERS!...now what were you saying?"

Me: "Oh, I don't really remember. Nothing important. Um, do you wanna call me back when you aren't..."

DF: "Oh, Kimberly...sorry, one sec...Kimberly, I need you to get the checkbook out of the top drawer of my desk in the computer room....Ok...go ahead"

Me: Do you want to call me back when you....

DF "NO KIMBERLY! THE TOP DRAWER. No, No, Not that one. No, the other one. No. Kimberly, Look. In. The. Top. Drawer."

Me: Why don't you call me back?

DF: "OK, it was great catching up with you!"

Me: "um. ok. sure."

DF: "Grayson, no, not like that. This one. Wash like......CLICK"




P.S. Names were changed to protect the obnoxious.