Ramble On……

Standing in the shower, it occurs to me that I have been putting warnings on the chapters I think are not for the more (let’s call it) sensitive readers. Then I thought-Fuck that! I grew up in the 70’s. Best time in the world. But I can still smell summertime in Rolla MO. And the 70’s were all about sex and drugs as cliché as that sounds. And I helped myself to both. It was a small town and as bad as I wanted to get out of there, I have a lot of great memories So. No more warning on chapters, just figure everything you read is going to be about my life and it wasn’t always pretty. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I personally was a fucking train wreck. I sit here and shake my head and I would just like to apologize to every person I came into contact with, ever. I have never been bitten by a rattlesnake. But I can tell you a very detailed story about how it happened. And oh, so many others. I sleep at night by thinking that everyone knew it was bullshit.

I have been struggling with the way Stephanie has made me feel and I am just over it. Taking back my power. I go back and forth in my head and just wonder, was I really that horrible of a mother? I can rattle off any number of things that I feel justifies how the kids were raised. I was a single mother for 8 years and it was rough. I was young. Hoping some slack can be given because I was only 26 when we moved back to Rolla in ’85. I went back to school and my God those were some rough years, but I kept going. I’m not apologizing for anything. I did the best I could. Do I wish I could have given them everything they are able to give their kids? Oh my God! Yes! Hell, I’ll settle for a house that doesn’t have a tree growing behind the kitchen stove for the love of God. But so thankful that we had a house. It was a cute little bungalow and we were so lucky to live there. Houses that rent for a hundred dollars a month a hard to come by. One step away from homeless. But my parents live right there. Right? Except the reason we were living at the edge of eternity was because my dad kicked us out. Uh, huh. Kicked us out. Because that what parents do. Well, my parents, anyway. Luck of the draw I guess. I have to laugh. They kicked Darren and Dwight out, too, except they wouldn’t leave. HA! So they shut their utilities off. You can’t make this shit up. And my parents thought this was ok. For real. Do you have any idea how awful (for me) it was when the Newburg Teachers “adopted ” us for Christmas. Smaller town. Everyone knew who my parents were. They know they owned a Service Station, wreckers, had rentals and at one time owned a taxi cab company, and we had to be adopted for Christmas. I was in Cosmetology School. Shaking your head, yet?

I decided a long time ago that you change the things you didn’t like about your childhood when you are raising your own kids. I was raised in what I considered “survival mode”, so basically any modification I made to my parents “parenting” was an improvement. I wanted the violence gone. I wanted to do fun things with my kids. Actually play with them and spend time with them. And hug them and kiss them and tell them how much I love them. No child should have an adult in their face, screaming at them. And yet, there I was. That was horrible. Maybe I was a horrible mother. Or maybe I’m just human. I never beat my kids with a razor strap or worse-I can still hear the sound of my dad whipping his belt out in one motion. Put your arms up and try not to cry. We were just little kids. What a fucking asshole. I still have anger management issues. I find it best to stay as sedated as possible and still be able to function. And to avoid people. I want to live in the woods with the woodland creatures.