Resurrection not to be confused with an erection.

Now that I have your attention.

I have come across a fool proof method to resurrect the blog. I know how all you people are having your love affair with facebook. Use your facebook erection  to resurrect the blog. Invite a facebook buddy to blog. You can also blog things that you would normally post on the FB. Maybe not fool proof but worth a shot.

Oh Ying, how I have missed you!

I have to give you the back story or else the story won't be as funny. This traumatic event unfolded when Lil K was in the second grade. Mornings are always a challenge when you are the mother of 4, and three of those children attend different school. Often time in the rush you forget to to do the most basic of things, like read important school bulletins. If I would have read the weekly bulletin for LIl K's school then I would have discovered  that it was picture day and I could have planned accordingly. I however did not. We were quite surprised to discover that it was picture day. I drove to the local Walmart and was in and out in a flash. I thought I had in my possession a pretty snazzy cowboy shirt. It was green his favorite color, how could I go wrong. Apparantly unbeknownst to me my son was highly offended by my fashion choice. When I opened the school pic, I discovered a boo-boo lip and squinched up eyebrows. It was pretty stinkin cute. Kelly was not pleased and proceeded to destroy all photographic evidence of the occurance.

  Last night Lil Kel googled his first name, middle initial and last name. We have all googled our names have we not? Under images, the very first photo. Drum roll please......... Well you can just guess. He was livid, his little brother ran into my bedroom holding his sides and gasping for air, giggling madly between breathes. Of course after I cleaned myself up from peeing my pants I went about investigating how this possibly could have occurred. Apparently my husband thought that this photo was so cute that he should use it as his twitter profile photo. Of course this was several years ago and my husband has no recollection. I would post the pic but I would feel horrible. It is more fun to type his first name middle initial and last name.

The Jezebelles

 I went to see a girls chorus, maybe it was an opera? All the girls were teens or younger. They were all dressed up, clothes like you would wear to Church on Easter. They were called the Jezebelle's and their voices were so so. In the crowd I saw a boy staring at me. It was my son Blaze. I mouth the word I love you. There was a girl sitting next to him. She seemed confused. I went over to him and asked him for  a hug. He just stood there while I tried to hug him. He didn't say a word. Then the crowd thinned and my dream was over. There was an odd beauty contest of sorts.

Dreaming again

So this is weird. I found myself imprisoned in a Cuban jail. No really, or was it a Mexican jail. Corrupt and full of dark skinned people like myself. We were all wearing street clothes. They were conducting weight loss experiments there. Which might explain why I was there but I never found that out in my dream. I was very interested in them. There was this one room that had no door and lying on a small bed was a very obese man and a tiny skinny little girl. I don't remember tham having any sort of interaction with each other. There was a male guard or nurse in there with them. I stood at the doorway watching, curious. I went into the room that they were in and I took a journal from the top drawer of a dresser. I remember thinking to myself that if anyone found me with it I would say that I had permission from the author. Then I thought to myself that if the young man that it belonged to caught me I would simply explain to him  that if you there are words I will read them. That's just the way I am wired. So I opened up the journal and I was surprised that the pensmanship was so bad. really bad child like and the writing was short, and vague.  There were also crudely drawn pictures. It was hot in the jail and humid. The pages were damp.

MY FRIEND JANELLE'S MISSION TRIP FUNDRAISER!!
I have decided to participate in a Yankee Candle fundraiser to help offset the cost for my DR Mission Trip this summer. If you like Yankee Candles and are interested in helping my endeavor please visit the following website to do all your shopping online. In order for me to receive the credit for your purchase you MUST put my seller ID and the group number in where prompted. My seller ID is: Janelle80 , the group number is 990002430. This is a legit fundraiser for a very good cause. Forty percent of all my sales will be applied toward my costs of the trip. Your order will be directly mailed to you. Thank you sooooooo much in advance for any help you can give me with this very worthwhile endeavor!!! www.yankeecandlefundraising.com

I published my unedited drafts pile. I was too lazy to make them into a medley and most of  them are really just titles. Little embryos that never got the chance to blossom into a run on sentence or one huge paragraph with no punctuation.

Plaguarism

Sometimes I forget to site my sources but I am pretty sure that everybody knows that I didn't write those song lyrics that I will  randomly throw into a blog from time to time.  I did Plaguarize the majority of B's Eulogy from B herself, Yang and I refer to it as the plageulogy. Well I was recently enlisted to talk to an acquaintences child about plagiarism after they were reprimanded in school for multiple instances of it. It  appeared as though they copied at least a paragraph nearly word for word for a research paper and from Wikipedia of all places

Half the time when people say my name it sounds like an accusation, so I answer with a hesitant drawn out yes. I suppose I should answer them in kind. When L says Mom it is always the beginning of a request, such as can I, may I will you or more often a take me give me buy me. 
I've grown seriously tired of wearing the fat suit so I've been working on that a bit.

Ahhhhh, spending the Holidays with people that don't love you, and some sometimes forget your name. Lovely... Did I mention that we are the only couple in the whole lot of them. Maybe theres a reason no one wants to be with you people. I normally don't use the Texan term y'all but  it might be because y'all suck. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. Everyone is supposed to love me damn it, I'm a freaking joy to be around. I have decided that I don't like Holidays anymore. No that's wrong I still love Halloween, and Dia de los muertos. Maybe if we wore costumes over to my MIL's  house that would turn this holiday around for me, or just paint our faces. We should go over there in costume, Lindy would love an excuse to wear her new waist cincher and rennaisance attire. Lindy will be at her boy friends today so she will be spared. Kelly's mother still calls her Lindsey some times. I told her to add  Y to t he name of all the people that can't remme

A can of ferrets.

Well I don't know why I say he left us. It's not as if he walked out. He abandoned his being, got beamed up. We are never going to drink another cup of coffee together and no one is going to listen to my stupid shit when I get fed up with myself

"You don't act like a mom......"

So recently my friend has brought to my attention that I don't act like a mom. I didn't know their was some kind of set guidelines as to how mom's were suppose to behave.

I like to help people but that's just me, being of use makes me feel whole. I am not someone that is overly dependent on others. If I ask you for something it usually means that I love you and I know that I can depend on you. (OR) It could also mean that that I am in a bind and I think that you may care about me enough to swoop down like superman and save the day. I have never asked anyone for money, or material (with the exception of asking Brandy for her computer skills and for Carr to give Jennifer the addict a 20 because I thought she was starving). Where am I going with this? If you knew me you would know that I would do anything I could to help you, even if it was inconvenient for me (as in give up an organ-just had to throw that in there). Big K bitched at his sister for not helping me out with the Roo mans sliced open head a few weeks ago. She had to call me

If Yang doesn't at least read this blog she will never realize that I have enough frequent flier miles for a trip to see her. The only thing standing in the way of a Ying Yang reunion is the unfortunate situation of my employment. I love my job don't get me wrong, adore my job. My job is da bomb, just wish that I could have a few days off without someone being in the hospital or dying. This seems to be the only acceptable excuse that I can give for having time off because apparently I am indespensible. Things need to get worked out soon because I really miss my goat woman. I would give her a tentative date but that would only sound like a threat or she would get her hopes up and her poor dear tender heart would be crushed. It would probably grind itself to a fine powder.

Good news!!

I have come to the conclusion that my daughter is not batshit crazy. She's just a regular teenage girl. That's a relief. This just now occured to me.

At what point should I just shatter into a million tiny little pieces. Everything is temporary anyway.

PUBLISHING MY DRAFTS AS IS

I had some down time today at work, it was a slow day. All my babies were boys today and my last two were in the nursery getting circumsized. I went down to the cafeteria to get an ice tea, and I felt a bit lost, and lonely. The sight of the balloons outside the gift shop made me tear up.

  Well here I am Lord, and I am just the same as I have always been. My life is very strange these days and honestly sometimes I am just a little overwhelmed. I miss my son, and my heart aches because I am afraid that I will never again be part of his life. I should not feel this way, my child is not dead and I have am grateful to God that he walks and breathes and that he is in so many already a very fine man. It's my selfishness that injures me, I desire his presence I want to hear his voice and see his face. I want him to know how much I love him. I want him to know me.

   I am so torn between this over whelming guilt that I feel for allowing him to become so disconnected with our family and the resentment that I feel towards his father for essentially brainwashing our child. I believe that he has irreparably harmed his spirit. I wonder if the best thing I can do is let go. I wonder what it takes to break a child's bond with their mother.  So this is my ever present grief that I am swallowing. Then there is my inadequacy. I think about all the ways I am an inadequate human being and that if I could have been more than what I am then perhaps my child would still love me.

  I have decided to write him a letter to tell him I am sorry.

 I became irate with my son. The night before we were about to get on a plane to go to my father's memorial he said that he had something to do at school and could not go. He was to be my only companion. The ticket was bought, I had asked him and he chose less than 24 hours before to inform me of this. He was dishonest with his father and said that I was forcing him to go that he did not want to. probably because he felt ashamed that he cared for me. I believe that he has been conditioned not to. I pleaded and yelled at him. In the end he did not go. I held no ill will for what transpired. I know he felt tremendously guilty. That was all it took, coupled with a couple a few light hearted jokes I had made through out the years. That and the fact that I am at my core just a very different person than his father and my son has been taught to hate. This was all it took for my son to imagine me a monster. I know I have many shortcomings and I am positive that these are also factors.
  I am not going to try and convince myself or anyone else that I am a worthwhile human being. I know who and what I am.

Son, I love you and I am sorry that my words and deeds have hurt you. I want you to know that I am not angry with you and that I am here for you if you ever decide that you want me to be your mother again. We all miss you.

I  am at a loss for words. I do not know what else to say. Perhaps that is all that there is to say.

 This is big but it's not everything. I have a spouse that doesn't smile, who's quick to anger. I feel like he may be more miserable than ever and even though I really do know that I can't possibly be the cause of this, I really fear that I am. Heavy stuff but that's a story for another day. There is a Butterscotch cat sitting beside my keyboard purring away. Just content to be beside me and that helps a lot. Thank you God!

 I had a weird dream last night. It's all a jumble now but here are the parts I remember.

I was on a boat with other people and it was sinking. It was kind of boat that the coast guard used. We docked the boat and then took the same boat out again. Big surprise it sunk again. So then I determined what the issue was and was making a plan to fix it.
   Then I was in the water swimming with my large family but it wasn't this family it was a different family and we were making preparations for something, a party or a celebration of some sort. There were floating Teddy Bears in the water and dog food. LOL

Next dream I was at a Ren Fest and when I handed a lady some tickets two of them said Queen. Then she led me to a tent and found a costume for me. It was a peach color, it had a feathered mask and a crow. My kids and my husband where there. I remembered thinking  that she should be costuming L and not me because L is the one that deserves attention.

Then I was in a small house and I realized that I had a cobra protruding from my face and I was so afraid that it would bite me that I decided to pull it out. Even though I knew that when I pulled it out I would definitely get bit. Apparently definitely getting bit was preferable than the constant fear of getting bit. It sunk it's fangs into my hand and It felt absolutely real. It was like a fire and a knife at the same time. I dialed 911 and it was busy. I kept dialing,
parts of my body were getting numb and I was so tired. I finally got through and they said that they were in the next city and that I was going to have to save myself. I noticed the cobra was loose and I grabbed it so it wouldn't hurt anyone else. I got bit again and then I killed it with my hands. 911 said to drink a gallon of milk and to jump up  and down. This did not seem that reasonable but I decided to try it. I went to the fridge and pulled out the milk. I drank straight from the gallon jug. The milk was thick and sour, I did not think that it would work. I ran outside and tried to get people to help  me but they did not care. I yelled at them. I told them t hat  they promised my husband they would help me. They told me to ask him for help. He was asleep in the bedroom and wouldn't wake up. Then I thought to myself. I am going to die. I wasn't afraid but I just wasn't ready to leave yet. Then I woke up.