Oh, What A Spectacle!

I too had a home without a dad....

but, I loved my dad no matter what. I don't think their have many uninfluenced instances where I was mad at my dad. Before I go forward any more...I swear if any of my parents (step included) ever read this....I may come up missing or tweeting someone broke my computer.

When I was born I was born into a family that was large and close. My mom and dad were sweethearts from way back. They were not married when I was born, I have been told I was planned. My mom was twenty and my dad was twenty-two.

As time went on we lived in a little house in the barrio near family. We had a dog she got ran over. Life was always a party, beer, the smell of marijuana and music. The carpet was shaggy and my dad was golden in my eyes. She wore great  fedoras and pendelton shirts. He creases were always fine and his hair was sleek black. My dad was awesome.

My mom was thin and tan. Her hair was a dark brown straight and parted down the middle. She haad the perfect eyebrows that every chola wished they had. She was athletic and liked to make crafts with me out of wax paper and crayons. She would dress me matching from head to toe and have me pose for pictures. They were a beautiful couple. I often thought they were the envy of the Barrio.

We moved from one house in the barrio to another. I had my own room complete with a captains bed, little table and chairs and big jars of delicious smelling Play-Dough. Life seemed great. We had parties for Halloween at my Nina's. There was a swing set in my front yard and frequent visits with my grandma Chavie and grandpa Turk.

Dad would cruise us kids to see movies at the drive in. I would also cruise with him to see his lady friends. I would also cruise with my mom to see her man friend. I spent many hours sitting in living rooms watching television. I also spent many hours listening to adult conversations. What would I say anyhow, I was maybe three and four years old. My life was taking a turn out of the southside.

Mom got pregnant and had my brother. Play-Dough disappeared and parties were not very frequent. Tight lipped remarks were in the air. And then dad got someone else pregnant. I heard him tell my Nina at the fence once he didn't think she was his. My Nina shook her head and gave him that "yeah right" look.

We visited that woman and the baby girl in their apartment. She looked different from me. Her skin was light and so was her hair. The apartment looked fancy to me. She was my sister.

Mom and Dad split up. My life took me out of the Barrio. Sometimes the time line gets blurred as to where we went next. I remember living with my Nina in the back house. The big claw foot tub and faking sleeping when mom had her friend over. We lived in an apartment with her man friend who drove a Charger. He drank a lot of beer. But, so did my dad. But, he was not my dad.

The new man was towering tall six feet four inches. He had curly hair and  a deep powerful voice. He would blast his music and it was noisy. I wanted my dad. I hated my mom. Why had she left my dad? Whenever I saw my dad he would say he loved my mom, and always would. I believed him and my mom lost all her glamour.

Once when we were being exchanged my dad and the new man got into a fight. Right in front of my moms sisters house, right across from my dads parents house.  I know my dad was hurt, and probably would have fought more had I not been there. I was six, with big glasses and a goofy smile. Think a little Mexican version of Heather Matarazzo in "Welcome to The Dollhouse". My heart was breaking. I wanted my mom and dad in the same house again even, if they had friends.

My dad got together with the lady with his baby. My mom stayed with the towering German.

I still wanted my dad back.

Mom and her new man fought a lot. He would hit her, she would hit him. They drank a lot. Some mornings I would wake up to Coors cans all over.

I wanted my dad.

We saw my dad on weekends. He would cruise us in his impala Sometimes he was not with the lady with the baby, sometimes he was staying at his sisters house. His heroin addiction I believe was beginning to get bad.

Time went on. Mom and Dad married the new people. It seemed nobody wanted us, and mostly nobody wanted my brother. There were times my dad missed picking us up. My step-dad would trash talk him and so would my mom. "Junkie" "loser" The words sstabbed at my heart even more. Letters would come from jail, and I loved that my dad remembered me. Once he came at Christmas to get us, he had brought me a jewlery box that played music. I was about eight or nine and it had the picture "The Engagement" by Norman Rockwell on the front.

Once in a rage my step-dad threw it. It broke and stopped playing music. The hinges would not be fixed and the blue velour lining started to come undone.

My step-mom always seemed to want  us out of her hair while she cleaned or whatever. She was jealous of my mom. I never understood why. She had my dad, she had kids with him....he was hers. He still is.

She was never our right mean to me. She seemed to genuinly try. But, we were differnt people in different worlds. She was outgoing and social. I was resevered and bookish. She wanted to talk with me about boys and I wanted to talk about music or "Revenge of the Nerds". She would idulge me. She bought my a nice record player for Christmas once. It was a great gift for a girl of 12 who had been listening to The Smiths and Depeche Mode on a tape recorder.

We had words at times because, my dad lacked communication. Also, I could be a smartass without even knowing. When I was 12 I went to live with them. My mom was mad, I have always thought it was because she had to clean the bathroom.  I also thought it was because she hated my dad and step-mom. But, why would I stay in a house that was full of abuse and often I was the reason.

My step-mom sometimes was mean. I had my own room, was never allowed to share a bedroom with anyone for some reason. My walls had pictures of movie stars, singer and  the like. Most of them were pictures of girls or women I wish I had the style of. My step-mom was mad at my dad once. She came in yelling telling me to turn of my music. She asked if I was a lesbian, I just looked at her. What did she want me to say? I had never even held a boys hand or kissed one or  a girl for that matter. All my posters had to come down....even my beloved Corey Haim ones. Soon after my dad was arrested in front of me, yet again. I stayed with my dads parents for awhile. Then I had to beg to go back to my moms. Life was over.

Once dad was back home weekend visits resumed.

I lived with them again in high school. Only because my step-mom admitted she did not want to be the bad guy. That was fine with me. My clothes were often a topic of discussion and my lack of dating. It was not always good.

I have to say despite arguments over posters, books, music and clothes my step-mom did some great things for me.

• first stereo
• first beach cruiser
• first typewriter
• took me shopping for my senior prom dress
• let me get my first real job
• gave me freedom
• encouraged my dad to go to my events

We don't have the best relationship but, sometimes we are the only one, each other can talk to. My step-dad and mom divorced some years ago. I also forgave him for the abuse years before that.

Now I am a step-mom and wish my step-daugher had chosen us at one point.

I love my dad, and even though he only has uttered those words to me once....I know he loves me.

 

Love and Steps

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Of Ex's and Hoe's

It has come to light that the husbands ex-wife has been living in an alternate universe. For many years she has told her daughter I was the sole reason for her and his divorce. Being that I am a woman who likes to live in honesty I will admit, when we met he was married. He had a child with his wife, who was still in high school back in Texas. He told me they were estranged due to her infidelities and dishonesty. We were friends from when we met in November 1994 until I left North Carolina in April 1995. In September of that year I began writing him. He was such a good friend that I did not really want to lose contact. He wrote me back and talked a lot of his daughter. He mentioned his wife and how she did not want to move to North Carolina and was still having a relationship with a woman. They had finally decided to divorce.

We wrote and talked on the phone. For Christmas leave he wanted to come visit me. I encouraged him to go see his daughter and family. That is what he did, and ended up probably fathering another child with his wife. She for years has denied the child is his. He tried working it out with her yet, again. We still wrote and I was in a relationship with another person. This was 1996. I moved to Kansas with that person and the letter writing continued. He had become my best friend and someone I could tell anything to. I will be honest I had feelings for him beyond a friendship for years, held them at bay because he was married.

The Kansas persona and I broke up. We still remained room-mates. Much to my dismay and weakness for not wanting anyone homeless. Jimmy and I started a long distance relationship which consisted of phone calls and lots of letters. In October of 1997 I made the bus ride from Wichita, Kansas to Jacksonville, North Carolina. I went not knowing if I was visiting or moving. It had been about two and half years since I saw him. We had both changed in appearance and more. Yet, it was still like we were those teenagers who talked on long walks and hung out at the music store.

I never moved back to Kansas.

During the time I was living the very sinful life, living with a still married man.....he proposed. His divorce papers came and I lost a baby. He told his parents about me and his ex-wife. They were still in Texas. When he was discharged from the Marines I went to Texas with him. He started to finalize his divorce (the state requires a class that has to be taken in Texas). We spent a lot of if time with his daughter and even his ex at times.

I often gave him the option of leaving me and making a life with them. He refused as she had moved on and was living with her partner. Before we married I told him that any kind of function we did for his daughter would include them, if they chose to come. No badmouthing her mom in front of her, ever! As far as I know, he was able to stick by these things.

Our oldest son was born. My grandpa was sick back in California. Jimmy's mom was mentally unstable and things seemed to be calling us out west. I left first with our oldest he followed suite two weeks later. We had his daaughter a few summers at first then, as the years went on the visits were less frequent. Sometimes we had no money, sometimes she did not want to come. He wanted her to live with us, she said she wanted to and was scared her mom would be mad. She chose to stay with her mom. Her calls became infrequent and emails stopped coming. She did not return any we made for many many months at time.

When she was upset at her mom, or hurt she would call. This became a pattern, and still is.

Over the weekend I was working on an article for this blog about the relationship between a step-mom and a step-daughter....it got a bit emotional. My heart ached and before it was finished other things happened. A little share of Facebook my husband made, from a conversation with our oldest son turned ugly. His ex joked, I made a joke and she lashed out. His daughter lashed out, a friend tried to stomp out the embers but, it was too late.

As I had predicted years earlier, lies had been told....and I was painted as a husband stilling hoe. Him as a filandering player with no regard. Well, I will admit in my younger days I was kind of a hoe...however that has nothing do with my marriage. He is hardly a player but, often gets attention he does not want.

Now his ex and his daughter have decided not to speak to him. Lovely...and all he wanted was to be in his daughters life, be friendly with his ex and enjoy life.

Maybe one day both sides will come to light and form the truth

Until then

Ex's and Hoe's

XOXOXOXO

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Happy.....what day is it?

Sometimes the days blur together and I forget what is coming up. For some reason since my husband has been working on the 4th of July it does not hold the same meaning to me. No more days spent at the park in the heat, waiting for some crazy boogie music and fireworks. No more naps under the big tress nursing babies and smelling BBQ. There are no more blue stained faces from character ice cream. No more screaming kids in the park and making random  one day friends.

I know I sound upset about it, maybe in some way I am. Maybe part of me wants to take our kids to see fireworks at different places. Growing up I saw them locally at the park, or across the tracks at the baseball tournament was ending. I saw them at Angel Stadium, in Palm Springs, at the beach and over a lake. My kids have seen them mostly hanging over the fence from our old apartment and now sitting on the roof of the van. Living in the barrio has allowed up to see Mexican fireworks up close from our front yard. But, I feel I am not giving the kids the experience they deserve. If this was twitter it would be #unschoolingmomfail.

Part of me thinks maybe I should take them by myself. But, they would just cry for their daddy. Yes, he does volunteer for the day. This year it will fund our once a year unBirthday party. But, I think we could have done that anyhow.

Maybe next year I will just wake up early and head out to the beach with the kids. We can pack a couple coolers with drinks and food.

Love and SnoCones

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Flowering Plants...Friends... OH MY!

I have been out in the garden more these days. Thank you summer for coming around. I have been able to pick various beans and peas. YUM! Although, my garden is much smaller than last year I am still happy. At one point I thought I had lost it all. So I am pleasantly pleased to say the least.

I have some hopes of having more time with some old friends this summer. Lots of plans nothing real definite except, Saturday night. Sometimes I overthink I pressume people will have a horrible time with me. Then I realize if I am not cool enough for them, it's because I am a nerd. Oh, I know that I am but, it is okay.

In other news I started walking again. Lucky me I have been encouraged in my weightloss by my husband and my good friend Jeremy. Jimmy is going to get me some new shoes since my little weightloss has shrunk my feet and blisters are not fun.

This weekend we plan on going to a PowWow and scarfing on Indian Tacos. Wonder if I will be awake enough for Saturday night?

Love and Garden Beans

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