what's so devastating?

I spent time the other day with a boy who knows the "button."  What the boy didn't know is that the "button" has siblings. 

The boy was stunned.  And then he asked, "do they know about the button?"

"Well, it is pretty hard to hide a missing person."  I also went on to explain that the "button" is a very positive and productive part of their young lives.  He cooks for them, he takes them to practice, he plays ball with them, video games, takes Addie to horseback and he makes them laugh.  They love him.  They adore him and he has earned their love.

And then I said, "we are all in  therapy and it is helping them.  We are all devastated."

His response was, "what's so devastating about all of this?"

I almost fell over.  And so I continued, "what's so devastating about this?  Well, I have a son who will spend his birthday in summer camp with no cake, no singing, no family and no shoes on his feet but instead a bracelet on his wrist.  I can see him for fifteen minutes a week, maybe, I can not touch him, we cannot speak in private and he has a bleak future a horrible reputation and he will need to go through life like he is running a marathon with no legs and had all the brains, the talent and the great future that a kid could want.  That is what is so devastating.

At first I was so startled.  Now I am not.  Let me just state for the record, I do not think that this boy (almost 20) is alone.  I think it is a generational thing.

My ice cream truck is selling rolling papers.  The Kardashians were awarded a 40 million dollar contract yesterday to keep their "show" on, Snookie is knocked up, her boyfriend is cheating on her and the kid will most likely have fetal alcohol syndrome and none of this phases this generation.  On MTV , there was a week of "congrats snookie" on the birth of you drunken escapade.  Ugh, this is what is so devastating.

Morals and ethics and character have just dried up like magic fairy dust.  Don't teach your kids to go to school, study hard, get a job and do the right thing.  Be a tramp on TV, marry for 72 days, sleep with more guys than states in the union, an you get 40 million dollars.

Last Friday, I did some old fashioned facebook stalking.  It was 4/20 and I just wanted to see.

OMG.  That is all I can say.  "Bring it on, 4/20.  WOOT WOOT".  Kids, you didn't invent 4/20.  Get over yourselves.

Later that night I went to the Spring Fling.  The PTO fundraiser at the elementary school.  Seriously, a huge night if you are in elementary school.  Guess what happened?

A parent, stoned out of his mind, most like on pills, drove his kids to the Spring Fling and was arrested.  Really.  Not making it up.

What is so devastating?  All of they above.  And, if you stand up and try to change it, it is like looking for a kid's tooth at the bottom of the ocean.

The even more devastating thing about all this?  These people who think it is cool that an ice cream truck selling rolling papers will eventually reproduce.  They will become parents. 

I don't know, I hope I am wrong, but I think this is devastating.

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Broken Seed

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Broken Seed: "why haven't you blogged?" "I am broken." There you have it, as simple as that, I am broken.  I feel like my life is broken. So, I pl...

Broken Seed

"why haven't you blogged?"
"I am broken."

There you have it, as simple as that, I am broken.  I feel like my life is broken.

So, I plant.  I am now convinced that Johnny Appleseed had a child who went to summer camp and he didn't know how to cope so he planted.  And planted.  And planted.

I am Johnny Appleseed.

I have planted and planted and planted.  Herbs, veggies, sunflowers (Oh my, have I planted sunflowers).  I just keep planting.  It is great therapy.  And then, when I got my garden together, I started at the kid's school.

I get excited about weeds and penny wort, pulling both are so therapeutic.

But then, the sun sets and once again I realize how sad and broken I feel.  I can only imagine how my son feels.

This trip to summer camp has crushed me.  I am so angry that a $46 dinner bill landed him in summer camp.  I am so angry at his choices and the people he chose to associate with knowing what was at stake.  Broken.

So I plant. I pray at church.

Then, like a scene in a lifetime movie, the preacher spoke.  I swear that he was only speaking to me.  I didn't feel like anyone else was there, just me.

He spoke about being broken.  We have all been broken at one time.  You need to be broken to be fixed.

And then he said this, "you put the whole seed in the soil.  It then breaks apart.  It begins to grow.  And it sprouts and it turns into something so lovely.  It does take time though."

I instantly felt better.  If the "button" turns out to be a sequoia, I will really be angry.  I have time.  I am a gardener.  I will water and feed the "button".  I hope that I truly reap what I have sown.  I just want to live to see it.

Until then, sunflower seeds are fifty cents a packet at the Dollar General.

Pause, I want a do-over!

When I was a kid,  I was a crazy Kick baller.  We played kick ball all the time.  We were so hip that my dad spray painted bases for us on the road.  When we didn't play kick ball, we played dodge ball. 

Every now and then, there was the need for a "do-over".  You know, somebody re-kicked and we ended the fued that was starting.

My kids don't say "do-ver".  They say "pause" until they work it out.  For some reason, that cracks me up.  PAUSE!  And they all pause and work it out.

I haven't blogged because we have been in PAUSE mode.  The "button" hated the blog and wanted me to stop.  As I said in the beginning, if this blogged interefered with his success, then I would PAUSE.

The "button" was trying hard and doing MOST of the things that he needed to dfo to "do-over" his life.

I too, was in need of a "do-over."  I have been working on at finding a  job because I need my routine back.  I hate limbo.  I hate being poor.  Damn, I need a makeover and a do-over.

And, I have been down.  I hate Eyores and Debbie Downers.  So, I just sort of "paused" and withdrew.

And then this weekend came.  I will spare you the details.  The end result was an underage drinking ticket followed by a ridiculous situation that has resulted in the fourth trip to summer camp.   Yes, you read correctly.  Sadly, you read correctly.

So, I sit here in my Tigger suit, glad that I didn't give it away and I turn to words and thoughts.  I have planted over 150 seeds and since I am out of ground to plant, I have to write.

As I put one of the kids to bed the other night, she asked, "are yuou going to write to the Button?"

I said, "no".

She said, "I would like to talk about this decision."

"Go ahead."

"You are his mom.  You said that you would always be there to teach us and to help us.  You said that you would never soay no to  reading.  So you need to be the parent."

Damn.  I felt like I was the size of a Polly-Pocket.

I am speechless and numb.  All five of are speechless, numb, confused and distraught.

And, there is a "button" who needs to Pause and think about a "do-over."

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: When I grow up I want to be...A paste eater

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: When I grow up I want to be...A paste eater: Today, I had to explain to my young co-workers what the item above is and was. They had no idea. It seems like yesterday that I remember...

When I grow up I want to be...A paste eater

Today, I had to explain to my young co-workers what the item above is and was.  They had no idea.  It seems like yesterday that I remember the pink wheel and using it.  I used it with vigor.  I loved school supplies and I loved sitting at my desk using them.  Occasionally, on art day(way before ENCORE CLASSES), the art teacher would come and she would give us each a slab of paste.  Loved the paste.  It came in a big white jar and it tasted like peppermint.  I ate it every time she gave me a slab.  My friend told me that I shouldn't eat the paste because my lungs were going to stick together.  That sounded way too far fetched for me so I kept on eating the paste.In middle school, the didn't have slabs of paste on scratch paper.  I added years to my life I guess. I loved my big fat red red number two pencil and my tablet.  I would try and keep the cover of my tablet clean, neat and without smudges.


Earlier in the week, I had to explain the "Whitney" thing to the same co-workers.  They didn't remember the "Whitney" thing.  They were about six months old then.  They didn't remember the Super Bowl and her singing, her break out album.  Zilch.  I even went to see her in concert at the Civic Arena in Pittsburgh, Pa with my parents.


Damn, I felt so old.  
And one of the co-workers asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Hello, I am almost 51.  I am grown up.  I even get AARP magazine.  Was he serious?  I had an eraser wheel for goodness sake and got slabs of paste once every other week, I am old.  


And he asked again and said, seriously, you still dream about it don't you?
Yes, I do. 
If I could go get ANY job in the whole world today, here are my top three choices.

.

1.  Yes, I would want to be Mary Poppins.  I don't care if I would be on Broadway, waving to the crowd in Disney World with that tiny, tiny waist and lovely outfit, I would want to be Mary Poppins.
2.  The Crap Buyer.  You know when you go into a sports bar or a Ruby Tuesday and they have all that stuff on the walls, I want to be the one who shops and buys it.  How much fun would that be?  You should for old stuff for a living with someone else's money.  Sign me up.
3.  Bed and Breakfast Expert Reviewer.  I would like to have my own show where I travel around the world and visit only Bed and Breakfasts and review them.  I don't really even care for Breakfast but I know I would be good at this job.


That is it.  Any of those three, I would be happy.  And yes, I still dream.  And as I thought about his question, I was amused.  When I was eating paste, I wanted to be a mailman that walked to deliver the  mail or a librarian.  Later,I wanted to be  in radio.  Isn't funny how you end up and where you end up?


If it wouldn't be for this blog, I wouldn't be working with a young kid who never saw an eraser wheel.  He would never have met anyone who actually saw Whitney Houston in concert.  I would never have had the blog if I didn't have a kid.  If didn't stop eating paste, I wouldn't have lived to have the kid.  Funny how things turn out and funny what you turn out to be.

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Random s...

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Random s...: it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Random stuff because I am bored at wo rk: So, I have this new job. I write. I write blogs, emails,...