T-Minus One Week and Counting...

The exodus to the North is in one week. While I am glad to get out from underneath of the menial servitude of Ms. C., I am bittersweet about returning to Michigan. The moms' are there; the sisterwives are there; and that is about it. I guess the Fates want me to die in the ice and the cold instead of the swealtering heat. Whatevah...

On another note, I have had diarrhea for a week straight, and have been on the pot no less than 5 times in the last 6 hours. Your welcome.

School is getting ready to start back up as well, and I have got to say, this break was much needed this time around. I needed to declutter my head. Of course, that means the novel gets shelved for another 6 months...I may have it done before my Social Security kicks in--wait--what Social Security? I am certain that by the time I hit 68, there will be no Social Security. Whooo Hoooo, can't WAIT!

Hmmmmm, I think I am in a bit of a mood today. Sick of shitting, sick of shit, sick, sick, sick. Blah!

Double Hernia--or, My Guts are Falling Out

I recently developed a hernia. Not uncommon for over-weight individuals, and not uncommon for persons who have undergone surgery. But lucky me, I have two! I had a bikini line incision for my c-section back in '87. I had the zipper for my hysterectomy in 2010. Where the two incision lines meet, a weakness developed, and before I knew it, I had an egg-sized protrusion.

I shouldn't be surprised. With all the lifting and transferring of Mr. M, it was bound to happen. That for sure weakened the area. But when did it happen? Embarrassingly, on the toilet, straining with diarrhea. (This blog is not for the weak of stomach; I swear, I will talk about anything!).

The second hernia is a belly button hernia, at the top of my hysterectomy incision. I had one in the same spot before, and had it repaired. This one is on the other side of my belly button.

Sooooo, my guts are spilling out in two places. Yippee. It doesn't hurt at all, but it is disconcerting, as now I can't do anything for Mr. M and Ms. C. That means that we are moving out soon. No point staying here if I can't be of help.

This will be move number 5 in 18 months. We are heading back to my MIL's home, which is the first move we made 18 months ago. We have come full circle. I guess I am just not meant to live in Alabama, because we keep ending up in Michigan. Peachy.

School will start back up for me the day after we get back, so I will not even get a rest before I have to start hitting the books again. And I am taking three classes in a compressed 8 week semester--should be a blast.

Man, do I like to bitch or what? Count your blessings, Miss Whineypants...

Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Rights--Can I Hear a HELL YEAH?

I just read that the UN has endorsed the rights of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community. FINALLY! What took so long? This is something that has always gotten under my craw--the abuse suffered by the GLB&T community. It has never made sense to me why people who love each other and are committed to each other could not be legally married or share the same benefits that heterosexual couples have. Finally. FINALLY!

I am hoping that this will soon open the door for polygamists as well. I firmly believe that no one can dictate who we love. That includes loving multiple people at the same time and being committed to them exclusively.

I have brushed lightly on the fact that I am, for all intents and purposes, a polyamorous person. I find it normal to love more than one person and have committed relationships with more than one person. I know that that doesn't float most people's boat. But there ARE a lot of people who are wired that way. They are just as committed, caring, loving men and women. Many people view us as freaks. They are close-minded and close-hearted. It takes a special kind of person to be able to love more than one person.

I have two living sisterwives, and one deceased. I love them. Granted, I had my share of conflict with the last one. We never were able to move past our differences. Or more aptly, I was not willing to compromise who I was to fit her mold. I did not like the person I was becoming around her. I was losing myself, and that was scary. I don't feel that way with the other two wives. ES and I were just too different. I firmly believe that if the four of us had lived under one roof, it would have been more balanced. ES would have found a formidable match with K and S. They are very out-spoken, strong women. Maybe I would have grown a back-bone.

It was one of ES's biggest pet-peeves when it came to me. I was close-mouthed when I disagreed with her, letting her always have her way, even when it made me unhappy or I thought it was unreasonable. Too late to work it out now. I just needed time, but she didn't have time to wait for me. I will never know if we could have found a middle ground.

At the moment, there are no laws to recognize us as a family. Zip, nada, zilch. Maybe, just maybe, this momentous move by the U.N. will move us in the right direction. Maybe there is hope for humanity...

Here is a link to the story if you have not yet read it:

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/U/UN_UN_GAY_RIGHTS?SITE=VAROA&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

Of Swollen Ankles, Boredom, and A Pot to Piss

Haven't written in a while. May came and went, and I just realized it was actually June. Don't know if I have mentioned it before, but I started yet another diet. I am recording every morsel I put in my mouth on Livestrong.com, as well as tracking my "fitness". Fitness--what a joke. It will track how many calories I burn an hour doing such mundane tasks as dishes, cooking, showering, and surfing--as in the web or as a couch potato.

I have lost 12 pounds in 8 weeks. My goal is 1.5 pounds a week, so I am pretty on target. I drink 8 12 ounce glasses of water a day, so I know it isn't water weight I am losing. I was feeling the difference until today. For the last two days, I have spent a lot of time sitting in front of the computer, so my calves and ankles are swollen. My hands have been swelling as well, and my wedding band is as tight as can be. OUCH! I need to make sure and get off my arse tomorrow so I can get back where I was a week ago.

I am going to post a picture each month to record my weight loss. This picture was taken two years ago, but it is the same weight I am at now--I had actually put on 12 pounds since that picture was taken. UGH.

I am trying to not be bored, but it is hard. I have been working on my novel, and have added about 50 pages, so that is good. I play POGO, and I try and be creative cooking. Any little thing to keep me going. We are broke, which means we can't go anywhere, do anything, buy anything. Living on only Hubby's Social Security means times are lean indeed.

I keep saying my Hail Mary's that we will see better times soon. I know I should be thankful for what we got. People have lost homes from floods, tornadoes, and wild fires. They have lost homes from loss of jobs, and there aren't any out there to be had. I know--I have been looking for six months for something closer than Tupelo or Tuscaloosa, but there just isn't anything available.

Blah.

My Novel

I have officially begun to add to my half-finished novel, and it feels good! I had to re-read the story to get myself re-acquainted with the cast of characters. I found lots of typos, and time-line errors. But overall, it is a good story!

My goal for myself is to have this puppy done by Christmas. That means a LOT of writing between now and then. I thought I was closer to being done than I am, but at 140 pages in, I am about half way done. And that is the manuscript version. Once it is put into paperback format, it will be a lot longer than that.

I know the story will evolve and things will be changed/edited/added to make it an even better read. I don't want people getting to the middle as thinking, "God, is this book ever going to end?"

I like to write. I really do. You would never know it with my sparse postings, but I really do like to write. Here is a list of things I would do if we one the lotto:

1. Buy our house on the hill with a view--no longer an option. House is no longer on the market.

2. Write. A lot.

3. Sing. A lot.

4. Garden, as much or as little as I wanted.

5. Play Pogo in the middle of the night, and sleep as long or as little as I wanted to.

6. Travel.

7. Get some fun exercise equipment and have a "real" work out room.

8. Learn to play the keyboard.

9. Get my songs published and recorded.

10. Baby my baby.

11. Get pedicures, manicures, massages, and haircuts whenever I want, not just when I can afford it.

12. Create a wonderful kitchen full of wonderful foods to cook.

13. Help others in need.

14. Go fishing.

15. Get a really good digital camera and take lots of pictures of everything.

16. Start scrapbooking again.

17. Take a nap like old folks do.

18. Have cookouts and karaoke parties.

19. Run around naked if I feel like it.

20. Paint--and I don't mean walls.

This list could go on and on. I know they say money can't buy happiness, but it CAN give you time and reduce the stress of NOT having money. Imagine being able to pay the bills as they came, have money for emergencies, be able to go to the doctor and dentist...

And time. Not having to go to a job that exhausts me and instead having a day that I can do whatever I feel like doing--or doing nothing if that is what I want.

Yup, that would be awesome. May the Lotto gods shine down on us soon! Maybe if I finish my novel, it will be a top seller and I will make a living writing...who knows!

Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. Did you know I am a mom? Most people don't. I don't talk much about my son. He is an "adult"--I use the term loosely. He has spent more time on the streets and living with nothing than most.

I was a single mom until Joe turned 5, and then his biological father (The Sperm Donor, BS) decided he was going to be a part of his life and started visitation. It wasn't court ordered; It was only every-other-weekend, and Joe seemed to enjoy himself and look forward to the visits. BS never asked for joint custody--until I started dating and subsequently marrying my hubby. Then all Hell broke loose.

It was miserable for all of us, and most of all, for Joe. We battled in court twice. The second time, I lost physical custody of Joe. You may ask, "How in the Hell did you lose custody of the child you raised?" It wasn't pretty, that is for sure. It was heartbreaking, and it was ugly. And it meant that my relationship with my son would forever be changed.

We aren't close. I used to worry about him constantly, feel guilty constantly. To this day, I am sure I am going to get a call that he has been killed or has killed himself. He is mentally ill, and does not take his medication regularly. It is either when he has to be admitted to stabilize himself, or when he has enough money to pay for his meds. Most times, he foregoes getting his meds and buys cigarettes instead.

We get infrequent calls, and he is never in the same place twice. He has had more "homes"--again, using a term lightly--than most people have in a lifetime. He always seeks approval, so desparate for love and positive attention.

He has made some aweful choices for himself in the past. He is so naive, so trusting of people. Inevitably, he gets his heart broken, or is taken advantage of and is left on the streets with no money. He is drawn to those like himself--he meets most of his so-called friends in treatment centers. That goes ditto for his girlfriends. Most of the women he meets are homeless, no source of income, and single mothers. I think every last one of the women he has been with have been older. I think in some ways, he is looking for a maternal figure, someone to take care of him. In his mind, it is he that is going to take care of them, however.

The relationships are short lived, and it always leaves Joe spiralling into a deep depression with suicidal thoughts. I know what must be going through his head: "I am not good enough for anyone. No one loves me. I am disposible."

He of course would feel that way. That is my dark secret: I gave my son away to the devil himself. I sacrificed motherhood in an attempt to keep the peace with everyone. I desparately wanted to keep my husband; I didn't want to keep fighting with BS; I was sick of court battles where I inevitably came out looking like an over-emotional basket case. Hell, even hubby said I was not fit to be a mom. So I got what I deserved. But Joe didn't deserve this. He really didn't.

We have rescued Joe twice. Once it was in Birmingham. He was in the hospital after cutting himself dozens of times. He had been living on the streets, and we hadn't heard from him in ages. We tried to help him, but he didn't want to follow rules. He was 19, and didn't want any responsibility.

The next time was after he got kicked out of his girlfriend's house. She took his money, and kicked him out. He stayed with us about a month that time. He really was doing a good job (for Joe), but my sisterwife couldn't stand him. She called him "a worthless excuse of a human being". That cut my heart to pieces. She despised him, and wanted him gone. For his own safety, both physical and mental, I let him go. That was the last time I saw him...4 years ago.

I know he wants to come home. He is weary and homesick. He hasn't seen family in about two years. I can't help him--we are technically homeless ourselves, save for living with the people we are taking care of.

So that is the ugly burden I carry. I am not much of a mom. I crave calls from Joe, but when he does, I can't stand talking to him. It is too painful. I deserve the pain. I deserve to have it crammed down my throat. But I avoid it. I am a coward.

Happy Mother's Day.

Big Ass Dog

Last night all hell broke loose when a Big Ass Dog showed up in our yard after supper. It drove Ghost, our dog, and Dixie (Mr. M's and Mrs. C's dog) crazy. Our dog is an average-sized dog, but this dog made her look little in comparison:

He appears to be a pit bull mix, and like I said, he is one BIG ASS DOG. And he is in heat; and Dixie is not fixed. Now Dixie is a Tsih Tsu as I have mentioned before, or as I like to call her, Little Shit. Big Ass Dog would go to smell her, and she would begin yipping in his face, making him jump straight in the air off his feet.

This dog is somebody's baby. He has been howling and crying all night, scratching at the door, whimpering, and being just pitiful. Trying to find the owner to no avail...

The dog is a ball of energy. I don't think he is much older than a year or two--too much puppy still in him. He won't sit still. The only time I managed to get a good picture of him was when he was flowering the weeds:

As said, Big Ass Dog is a handsome fellow, and someone out there is probably missing him dearly. This county does not have a humane society or a dog pound, so there is really no place to take him. In the mean time, Little Shit is yip-barking non-stop, and Ghost is ready for him to leave her property (she thinks this is her property and runs everyone off: mailmen, garbagemen, and any visitor she hasn't met yet). Having this big brute of a dog in the yard is disconcerting to her.

Hopefully, we will find its home. There are lots and lots of stray dogs and cats in this county, as people tend to just drop them off on the side of the road.

Fingers-crossed that this is not the case with this dog. Seems unlikely, as he is a nice dog. He could have chomped Little Shit in two, but he is actually a little intimidated by Her Highness. Guess we will see....maybe he is an alien....