23 October 2011
Just wanted to say...
On the 23rd day of October in the year Nineteen Hundred ninety eight, at 3:23pm, my beautiful son was born. Not a day has gone by that I haven't loved him more than the day before.
17 October 2011
Things that make me HAPPY
I was gonna blog about things that annoy me, there are so many, but instead I figured I'd blog about something that makes me happy. There is this one that makes me so happy I feel that I could just burst and his name is PJ. He's my 13 year old son. Well ok he's 12 but he's turning 13 Sunday.
When I was first married my then husband and I had a hard time getting pregnant, to the point that I'd given up. I didn't want to go the fertility pill route or anything more drastic than that, there's nothing wrong with it but it just wasn't for me. For me I figured if I was meant to have a kid it would happen and since it wasn't...well that was a pretty clear answer. I gave up. I even got used to the idea of not having children and I figured that the pro's for it was that I'd have ultimate freedom. No worries. No stress and no responsibility. Of course that's exactly when I got pregnant and the second I found out all that other stuff was just bullshit. I remember we'd just moved into our townhouse, I'd just finished painting the entire thing myself and I began feeling not normal. I remember buying the pregnancy test, it was a special 2 for 1 sale, and the girl behind the counter smiled and asked me what I wanted the results to be, I said negative. I actually believed that too. I was utterly convinced I was ok with being childless for the rest of my life. I didn't tell my husband that I'd bought the test, I didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing and I was convinced it was going to be negative. Well sorta. There was this little, tiny voice telling me that this was the test that was going to change the rest of my life in ways I could not imagine. At this time we had a new puppy and my husband was getting up @5am to let her outside to do her thang so I figured I'd go take the test. It only takes a few minutes to get the results and when I saw the 2 lines I nearly passed out! I kept rubbing my eyes, figuring I was sleeping or something and when my husband came upstairs I asked him if he saw 1 or 2 lines and when he said TWO? I cried and told him he was going to be a daddy. Thing was I was BARELY pregnant, when I went to the doctor (after taking FIVE pregnancy tests) and was asked when I'd last had my period I said the prior month I got a look. Then the doctor came in and she asked me why in the world I would think I was pregnant when I wasn't even really concidered late for my period that month, I just had a feeling I told her, plus 5 pregnancy tests. She laughed and took blood for a definitive test and said she'd call the next day. I was at work the next day and I told them that any calls for me I was to be immediately notified so I could take it. The call came at just after 6pm and the nurse said, "We don't know how you knew but yes, you're pregnant. Barely 2 weeks but the test came out positive. Congratulations." and I just cried. My boss was quite concerned and when I told him he gave me a hug and the rest of the night off.
My pregnancy was uneventful thank god, I didn't even vomit once but was really tired almost the entire first trimester. I mean not being able to work tired 'cos I was falling asleep standing tired. That's pretty damned tired! I got through it though. One thing I remember from the pregnancy test morning was waiting for 7am so I could call my mother and tell her she was FINALLY going to be a grandmother. She laughed and said just the day before at work she'd said she gave up on ever being a grandma...little did she know! So my pregnancy went well, the ultrasound was a hoot 'cos he just laid there and showed his winky so we'd know he was a he...made the tech laugh. "He really wants you to know he's a boy." He said. I was thrilled because if I had to be honest? I soooo wanted a boy! Being a tomboy my entire life I was unsure I'd be able to raise a girly girl and was utterly convinced (and still am) that I'd have had a girly girl. So I had a boy, 23rd October 1998 at 3:23pm, he weighed 7lbs 9oz and measured in at a whopping 23 inches long. They didn't show him to me right away, he was a c-section because when I'd had a late pregnancy ultrasound he seemed to be well over 10 pounds so we'd planned the c-section. However we didn't plan for me to bleed out. I have absolutely no memory of this, I didn't even learn of this for the next 2 years until friends of ours had their first baby and my husband told me! Personally I think it was the doctor's job to tell me I nearly fucking died giving birth! So I had PJ and an hour later when they put him in my arms...I looked at the face of the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. My baby boy. Instantly and without a doubt I was in love. There was nothing I'd not do for this baby, nothing I wouldn't protect him from and I'd always be in his corner. I never knew such a love could even exist, I understood my own mother in a second in a way I couldn't have until I held my own child. There is nothing like the love a mother has for her child.
As PJ grew that love grew of course, I watched the baby turn into a toddler with enough personality for 12 toddlers and then I watched that toddler turn into a kid. I'd say he was an average, normal American kid but my PJ has never been average or normal a day in his life and I've not raised him to reach for that. He is exceptional. To me. To his family. When he was little and didn't know a word for what he was feeling he'd just make one up. He was never hungry, he was empty. He was never thirsty, he was drinky. He was a ham, a comedian and a poet at 3 years old when he'd take his dad's microphone and sing lyrics he was making up as he went, and his mom was on the sofa writing it all down. I have to say some of what he said was beyond his years, way beyond. When he was 7 he wrote 3 songs that I still have, that contained emotions that should have been well beyond him. One song in particular made my heart ache. He's always been artistic and I always thought that he'd be a musician but at 6 years old he discovered Star Wars, George Lucas and movies. Since then, even though he wrote poems/lyrics, he was determined to be the next George Lucas. He's been writing his own sci-fi show or film (he's not decided which yet) since he was 6 years old and the things he's come up with? Massive. I find it impossible that the person I gave life to was this talented. I always knew he was special. He's turning 13 in less than a week and plans on going to university, he's torn between Columbia College here in Chicago and Northwestern University, which is said to have an excellent film program. He is determined to be a huge star, a movie star first and then a director. However he says if the acting doesn't work for him he won't be that upset, he'll just make films. I look at this young man, puberty has taken him over in the past year, growing him over 6 inches, deepening his voice, putting hair where there wasn't hair a year ago, and am amazed at how utterly convinced he is of his future. How hard he works towards his future. For Christmas I'm buying him a video camera, put his feet well and truly on the road to success.
To say I'm proud of my child is ridiculous because it goes much further than that. He's a good kid, a good person with a huge heart, a brain he uses and the ability to meld the two...something most adults cannot do. He's more politically savvy than 99% of the adults around him, has his own opinions on everything from religion to politics to what we're gonna have for dinner and no, McDonalds is not happening tonight. :o) He is a most impressive young man, I'm not nearly as together at 44 as he is at nearly 13 and it's just not fair! lol I mean I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up!
So I sit here and look at this beautiful creature that I'm told is my son and my entire being is filled with an emotion so much stronger than love that there isn't a word strong enough to describe it. How I've raised him as well as I have is a marvel, because I'd never have believed 13 years ago that I would be a good mom much less the best mom in the world (PJz words, not mine)! He's not perfect, nobody is, but in my eyes he's as close to perfection than any human being has a right to be. I'm proud of myself that he's not afraid to tell me everything going on in his life, that's going on in his head, and sometimes it's hard to hear. He's just like most kids who are different, he's gone through being bullied but now since he's so big everyone leaves him alone, but he remembers how it hurt to be bullied and he refuses to let anyone around him be bullied. I saw online today that a beautiful teenage boy killed himself last Friday, because he was gay and felt he had nobody, that is the last thing I want for my son, to feel alone like that. My heart cries for that boy because he was wrong, it DOES get better. We've mostly all been there, felt that pain, been bullied, and we got through it. I'm not making any judgement on his parents, my heart hurts for their loss, I just wish he knew they'd understand and would have done anything to help him. I've told my PJ since he was a toddler that there is nothing that the two of us cannot make it through, that I'm always in his corner, that I'd fight for him until the day I die and beyond. I mean I've pounded this into his skull over and over again and when in fifth grade he came to me because the bullying had gotten so bad he was considering suicide, he saw how fierce his mom is in defending him. At the end of that school year he had enough confidence to push the bully onto his ass and to tell him if he ever gets in his face again he'll get worse than being pushed onto his ass, the kid believed him and has not even looked at him wrong since. I cannot even allow myself to think what would have happened 2 years ago if he didn't know to come to me when he was being bullied because I'd help him, and I refuse to allow myself to go there. He made it through that. He doesn't care over much for Lady Gaga's music, a few songs here and there he likes, but he says he appreciates how she stands up for kids who are being bullied and how strong of a message she has for them. He's convinced she's saved more lives than she'll ever know about. I love Lady Gaga for fighting for kids like my son, who are bullied, and don't have someone in their corner to fight for them. Plus she makes some good, butt-wiggling music too!
So here's PJ, in 7th grade, taller than me with a voice as deep as his dad's. I look at him and am filled with pride, love and awe. I birthed me a beautiful baby boy who is turning himself into a spectacular human being and that I will not take responsibility for because whilst I may have laid the ground-work for it, he's done the hard work, made the right decisions and continues to try to be the best person he knows how to be. He doesn't care who sees him hug me in public, kiss my cheek in public and say I love you in public...I'm his mom and he loves me and wants the world to know it. How lucky am I?!!
When I was first married my then husband and I had a hard time getting pregnant, to the point that I'd given up. I didn't want to go the fertility pill route or anything more drastic than that, there's nothing wrong with it but it just wasn't for me. For me I figured if I was meant to have a kid it would happen and since it wasn't...well that was a pretty clear answer. I gave up. I even got used to the idea of not having children and I figured that the pro's for it was that I'd have ultimate freedom. No worries. No stress and no responsibility. Of course that's exactly when I got pregnant and the second I found out all that other stuff was just bullshit. I remember we'd just moved into our townhouse, I'd just finished painting the entire thing myself and I began feeling not normal. I remember buying the pregnancy test, it was a special 2 for 1 sale, and the girl behind the counter smiled and asked me what I wanted the results to be, I said negative. I actually believed that too. I was utterly convinced I was ok with being childless for the rest of my life. I didn't tell my husband that I'd bought the test, I didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing and I was convinced it was going to be negative. Well sorta. There was this little, tiny voice telling me that this was the test that was going to change the rest of my life in ways I could not imagine. At this time we had a new puppy and my husband was getting up @5am to let her outside to do her thang so I figured I'd go take the test. It only takes a few minutes to get the results and when I saw the 2 lines I nearly passed out! I kept rubbing my eyes, figuring I was sleeping or something and when my husband came upstairs I asked him if he saw 1 or 2 lines and when he said TWO? I cried and told him he was going to be a daddy. Thing was I was BARELY pregnant, when I went to the doctor (after taking FIVE pregnancy tests) and was asked when I'd last had my period I said the prior month I got a look. Then the doctor came in and she asked me why in the world I would think I was pregnant when I wasn't even really concidered late for my period that month, I just had a feeling I told her, plus 5 pregnancy tests. She laughed and took blood for a definitive test and said she'd call the next day. I was at work the next day and I told them that any calls for me I was to be immediately notified so I could take it. The call came at just after 6pm and the nurse said, "We don't know how you knew but yes, you're pregnant. Barely 2 weeks but the test came out positive. Congratulations." and I just cried. My boss was quite concerned and when I told him he gave me a hug and the rest of the night off.
My pregnancy was uneventful thank god, I didn't even vomit once but was really tired almost the entire first trimester. I mean not being able to work tired 'cos I was falling asleep standing tired. That's pretty damned tired! I got through it though. One thing I remember from the pregnancy test morning was waiting for 7am so I could call my mother and tell her she was FINALLY going to be a grandmother. She laughed and said just the day before at work she'd said she gave up on ever being a grandma...little did she know! So my pregnancy went well, the ultrasound was a hoot 'cos he just laid there and showed his winky so we'd know he was a he...made the tech laugh. "He really wants you to know he's a boy." He said. I was thrilled because if I had to be honest? I soooo wanted a boy! Being a tomboy my entire life I was unsure I'd be able to raise a girly girl and was utterly convinced (and still am) that I'd have had a girly girl. So I had a boy, 23rd October 1998 at 3:23pm, he weighed 7lbs 9oz and measured in at a whopping 23 inches long. They didn't show him to me right away, he was a c-section because when I'd had a late pregnancy ultrasound he seemed to be well over 10 pounds so we'd planned the c-section. However we didn't plan for me to bleed out. I have absolutely no memory of this, I didn't even learn of this for the next 2 years until friends of ours had their first baby and my husband told me! Personally I think it was the doctor's job to tell me I nearly fucking died giving birth! So I had PJ and an hour later when they put him in my arms...I looked at the face of the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. My baby boy. Instantly and without a doubt I was in love. There was nothing I'd not do for this baby, nothing I wouldn't protect him from and I'd always be in his corner. I never knew such a love could even exist, I understood my own mother in a second in a way I couldn't have until I held my own child. There is nothing like the love a mother has for her child.
As PJ grew that love grew of course, I watched the baby turn into a toddler with enough personality for 12 toddlers and then I watched that toddler turn into a kid. I'd say he was an average, normal American kid but my PJ has never been average or normal a day in his life and I've not raised him to reach for that. He is exceptional. To me. To his family. When he was little and didn't know a word for what he was feeling he'd just make one up. He was never hungry, he was empty. He was never thirsty, he was drinky. He was a ham, a comedian and a poet at 3 years old when he'd take his dad's microphone and sing lyrics he was making up as he went, and his mom was on the sofa writing it all down. I have to say some of what he said was beyond his years, way beyond. When he was 7 he wrote 3 songs that I still have, that contained emotions that should have been well beyond him. One song in particular made my heart ache. He's always been artistic and I always thought that he'd be a musician but at 6 years old he discovered Star Wars, George Lucas and movies. Since then, even though he wrote poems/lyrics, he was determined to be the next George Lucas. He's been writing his own sci-fi show or film (he's not decided which yet) since he was 6 years old and the things he's come up with? Massive. I find it impossible that the person I gave life to was this talented. I always knew he was special. He's turning 13 in less than a week and plans on going to university, he's torn between Columbia College here in Chicago and Northwestern University, which is said to have an excellent film program. He is determined to be a huge star, a movie star first and then a director. However he says if the acting doesn't work for him he won't be that upset, he'll just make films. I look at this young man, puberty has taken him over in the past year, growing him over 6 inches, deepening his voice, putting hair where there wasn't hair a year ago, and am amazed at how utterly convinced he is of his future. How hard he works towards his future. For Christmas I'm buying him a video camera, put his feet well and truly on the road to success.
To say I'm proud of my child is ridiculous because it goes much further than that. He's a good kid, a good person with a huge heart, a brain he uses and the ability to meld the two...something most adults cannot do. He's more politically savvy than 99% of the adults around him, has his own opinions on everything from religion to politics to what we're gonna have for dinner and no, McDonalds is not happening tonight. :o) He is a most impressive young man, I'm not nearly as together at 44 as he is at nearly 13 and it's just not fair! lol I mean I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up!
So I sit here and look at this beautiful creature that I'm told is my son and my entire being is filled with an emotion so much stronger than love that there isn't a word strong enough to describe it. How I've raised him as well as I have is a marvel, because I'd never have believed 13 years ago that I would be a good mom much less the best mom in the world (PJz words, not mine)! He's not perfect, nobody is, but in my eyes he's as close to perfection than any human being has a right to be. I'm proud of myself that he's not afraid to tell me everything going on in his life, that's going on in his head, and sometimes it's hard to hear. He's just like most kids who are different, he's gone through being bullied but now since he's so big everyone leaves him alone, but he remembers how it hurt to be bullied and he refuses to let anyone around him be bullied. I saw online today that a beautiful teenage boy killed himself last Friday, because he was gay and felt he had nobody, that is the last thing I want for my son, to feel alone like that. My heart cries for that boy because he was wrong, it DOES get better. We've mostly all been there, felt that pain, been bullied, and we got through it. I'm not making any judgement on his parents, my heart hurts for their loss, I just wish he knew they'd understand and would have done anything to help him. I've told my PJ since he was a toddler that there is nothing that the two of us cannot make it through, that I'm always in his corner, that I'd fight for him until the day I die and beyond. I mean I've pounded this into his skull over and over again and when in fifth grade he came to me because the bullying had gotten so bad he was considering suicide, he saw how fierce his mom is in defending him. At the end of that school year he had enough confidence to push the bully onto his ass and to tell him if he ever gets in his face again he'll get worse than being pushed onto his ass, the kid believed him and has not even looked at him wrong since. I cannot even allow myself to think what would have happened 2 years ago if he didn't know to come to me when he was being bullied because I'd help him, and I refuse to allow myself to go there. He made it through that. He doesn't care over much for Lady Gaga's music, a few songs here and there he likes, but he says he appreciates how she stands up for kids who are being bullied and how strong of a message she has for them. He's convinced she's saved more lives than she'll ever know about. I love Lady Gaga for fighting for kids like my son, who are bullied, and don't have someone in their corner to fight for them. Plus she makes some good, butt-wiggling music too!
So here's PJ, in 7th grade, taller than me with a voice as deep as his dad's. I look at him and am filled with pride, love and awe. I birthed me a beautiful baby boy who is turning himself into a spectacular human being and that I will not take responsibility for because whilst I may have laid the ground-work for it, he's done the hard work, made the right decisions and continues to try to be the best person he knows how to be. He doesn't care who sees him hug me in public, kiss my cheek in public and say I love you in public...I'm his mom and he loves me and wants the world to know it. How lucky am I?!!
04 October 2011
Fat Jokes are FUN!!!
These days decent people don't make fun of someone because of a disability, or their sexual orientation, or the colour of their skin...and that's good because you must really be a disgusting human being to do those things, but it's still not only acceptable but encouraged to make fun of fat people. Late night comedian's do it, tv sitcoms do it, drama's do it, everyone does it. It's cool, right? I mean it's not like people with weight problems have feelings or at least the don't have the right to have feelings you realise this, right? I mean fat people are only fat because they can't control themselves! Sure they all, every single one of them, just sits in front of a TV and shove food into their mouths! None of them have medical issues, none of them are on medication that cause weight gain, none of them have issues that they're dealing with because of something that happened to them or the fact that they're depressed, nah they just can't control themselves. Every single one of them fat asses just can't control shoveling in the food. The thing is? I'll bet most of the fat people that you know have one of those issues, if not more, that I just named, you just don't see beyond the fat. Like being gay, I don't think many (or any) people desire to be fat, they don't make a concerted effort to be overweight. I really can't picture a human being choosing to be fat, unhealthy and miserable. I think the miserable is the underlying issue as to why people are fat. There are people out there who are not having of a lot of money and see food as a reward so they over-eat but is that true or are they eating emotions? I think 99% of the time they're eating anger, depression, feelings of not being good enough because they're not having of the material possessions they deem worthy. I also think that it's not so much the material possessions they crave but something else, something deeper, they just don't have a way of figuring out what they really do need or they're so depressed they don't care.
So you have fat people who are fat because they eat emotions and lets face it, if you're miserable you're gonna eat good tasting food and maybe you can make broccoli taste good enough but it's never going to be as satisfying as ice cream. There are studies out there that say people do eat for comfort, that there are reactions in the brain and through out the body that tell us comfort food is needed and will be like a great, big hug. Who doesn't need a hug every now and then? Then realise that there are people out there who need not only that hug but even more and the only way they have of getting what they need is through food. I mean lets face it, we have to eat in order to live so we cannot avoid eating. Quite a large number of us are, at least part of the time, slaves to the taste buds and we want to put things in our mouths that taste good. There are good foods out there that are not harmful that taste good, fruits for one, but lets face it, they're not as plentiful or affordable as the bad, really good tasting stuff. That's another thing, the good-for-you-foods are usually quite a bit more expensive and some people just can't afford to buy a lot of them. I remember watching a show about how some of the poorest people in this country live on Mountain Dew and how it effects their health in a negative way that most of us who may drink that soda once in a while (personally I hate the stuff). It rots the teeth for one, it's so full of sugar and caffeine it's not even funny, it gives me heart palpitations just thinking about it. McDonalds is much more affordable than a regular, sit-down restaurant and kids are always begging to go there and how many actually order the salads they offer? Ok I do, and often, but I also get french fries 'cos lets face it, NOBODY makes french fries like McDonalds!
I know it all comes down to moderation, you can pretty much eat whatever you want as long as you eat it in moderation and you exercise. Again, if a person is depressed they're so not giving a shit about moderation or getting in a good workout, they just want that bag of potato chips. Stressed out people aren't going to go for a run after they eat a tub of ice cream. It's not about self control, it's about giving up. Yes, believe it or not there are folks out there who are so miserable they just don't care anymore, they've given up. They won't actively suicide but they'll eat themselves to death.
Then there are medications that either make you gain weight or make everything you put in your mouth taste bad, except for ice cream and cake. I know this as a fact, I've been on steroids for injuries and packed on the pounds and I've had medications that made even soda taste horrible, I could only eat spaghetti and ice cream, everything else made me vomit. I didn't have to be on those meds for a long time but they're only two examples and taking the weight off is always way harder than putting it on. Using myself again (as I'm overweight) as an example, I have no health insurance, I have no doctor so I am unable to get monthly blood tests to control an under-active thyroid. The summer of 2009 I tried to lose as much weight as I could for my upcoming trip to England. I've dreamt of going to England my entire life and the reason I was going was to see a band I'd dreamt of seeing live since 1984 (Spandau Ballet) but never got to because they never toured America. I did not want to go out there, meet all these wonderful people I'd met via the internet and see Spandau Ballet the way I looked so I got serious. I exercised, I ate nothing that tasted remotely like ice cream or chocolate and I made sure I snacked on healthy fruits and veggies. I worked out for an hour a day, six days a week. I walked for at least 45 minutes every day. I did this for over a month and ended up gaining 2 pounds. Talk about falling into a funk! All that for what? To GAIN weight? Sure it could have been muscle weight but I gotta say I honestly did not feel any better, no healthier, so I figured why continue. I let myself down. Which in turn depressed me even more. Now I have all these wonderful memories of the trip of a lifetime and it's drenched in shame. Because I looked horrible. Because society has made me feel that I'm worthless and have no self control. Most of the time I just ignore all that shit society puts on me, I don't think we all have to be super, model skinny, but some times its just impossible not to get down. I can't seem to lose weight because I'm not on medication to help control my thyroid. I can't afford medication or a doctor because I'm not insured. Of course that's another rant but it has a lot to do with a lot of problems in this country at this time. I'm not that unique that I'm the only one having this problem. My job is incredibly physically challenging, that alone should help keep me in some sort of shape but has absolutely no effect. Pulling and pushing hundreds of pounds, lifting heavy linens and bending and stretching and constantly walking for miles should have an effect but it doesn't. I have a great friend who's lost a lot of weight and she said once she got her metabolism working she was able to eat decent sized meals, enough to fill her up, and still continue to lose weight. That's my problem, my metabolism doesn't exist because the thyroid controls that, and mine doesn't work. But it's ok to make fun of me, to make jokes and to point and laugh, you see I have no self control. Even though I can diet, I can exercise and I can eat right but all to no or very little effect. But that's my fault. All my fault. Not really saying it's not but there are some things out of my control, like in this economy finding a job that will not only pay the bills but provide health insurance at the same time are just everywhere. ::sigh:: Oh well, I keep soldering on, what else can I do?
It's just shit that people still think it's ok to make fun of fat people when they don't know why those people are fat to begin with and even if it's from a lack of self control, even if it's from a strange desire to be fat, why does hurting someone make so many other people laugh? Even normally decent people, people who care about others and put their money where their mouths are, find it ok to make fun of fat people and I just don't get that. I'm even guilty of this! How gross is that! I guess it's true that most people in the world can only feel good about themselves when they put other's down. Really sad isn't it?
So you have fat people who are fat because they eat emotions and lets face it, if you're miserable you're gonna eat good tasting food and maybe you can make broccoli taste good enough but it's never going to be as satisfying as ice cream. There are studies out there that say people do eat for comfort, that there are reactions in the brain and through out the body that tell us comfort food is needed and will be like a great, big hug. Who doesn't need a hug every now and then? Then realise that there are people out there who need not only that hug but even more and the only way they have of getting what they need is through food. I mean lets face it, we have to eat in order to live so we cannot avoid eating. Quite a large number of us are, at least part of the time, slaves to the taste buds and we want to put things in our mouths that taste good. There are good foods out there that are not harmful that taste good, fruits for one, but lets face it, they're not as plentiful or affordable as the bad, really good tasting stuff. That's another thing, the good-for-you-foods are usually quite a bit more expensive and some people just can't afford to buy a lot of them. I remember watching a show about how some of the poorest people in this country live on Mountain Dew and how it effects their health in a negative way that most of us who may drink that soda once in a while (personally I hate the stuff). It rots the teeth for one, it's so full of sugar and caffeine it's not even funny, it gives me heart palpitations just thinking about it. McDonalds is much more affordable than a regular, sit-down restaurant and kids are always begging to go there and how many actually order the salads they offer? Ok I do, and often, but I also get french fries 'cos lets face it, NOBODY makes french fries like McDonalds!
I know it all comes down to moderation, you can pretty much eat whatever you want as long as you eat it in moderation and you exercise. Again, if a person is depressed they're so not giving a shit about moderation or getting in a good workout, they just want that bag of potato chips. Stressed out people aren't going to go for a run after they eat a tub of ice cream. It's not about self control, it's about giving up. Yes, believe it or not there are folks out there who are so miserable they just don't care anymore, they've given up. They won't actively suicide but they'll eat themselves to death.
Then there are medications that either make you gain weight or make everything you put in your mouth taste bad, except for ice cream and cake. I know this as a fact, I've been on steroids for injuries and packed on the pounds and I've had medications that made even soda taste horrible, I could only eat spaghetti and ice cream, everything else made me vomit. I didn't have to be on those meds for a long time but they're only two examples and taking the weight off is always way harder than putting it on. Using myself again (as I'm overweight) as an example, I have no health insurance, I have no doctor so I am unable to get monthly blood tests to control an under-active thyroid. The summer of 2009 I tried to lose as much weight as I could for my upcoming trip to England. I've dreamt of going to England my entire life and the reason I was going was to see a band I'd dreamt of seeing live since 1984 (Spandau Ballet) but never got to because they never toured America. I did not want to go out there, meet all these wonderful people I'd met via the internet and see Spandau Ballet the way I looked so I got serious. I exercised, I ate nothing that tasted remotely like ice cream or chocolate and I made sure I snacked on healthy fruits and veggies. I worked out for an hour a day, six days a week. I walked for at least 45 minutes every day. I did this for over a month and ended up gaining 2 pounds. Talk about falling into a funk! All that for what? To GAIN weight? Sure it could have been muscle weight but I gotta say I honestly did not feel any better, no healthier, so I figured why continue. I let myself down. Which in turn depressed me even more. Now I have all these wonderful memories of the trip of a lifetime and it's drenched in shame. Because I looked horrible. Because society has made me feel that I'm worthless and have no self control. Most of the time I just ignore all that shit society puts on me, I don't think we all have to be super, model skinny, but some times its just impossible not to get down. I can't seem to lose weight because I'm not on medication to help control my thyroid. I can't afford medication or a doctor because I'm not insured. Of course that's another rant but it has a lot to do with a lot of problems in this country at this time. I'm not that unique that I'm the only one having this problem. My job is incredibly physically challenging, that alone should help keep me in some sort of shape but has absolutely no effect. Pulling and pushing hundreds of pounds, lifting heavy linens and bending and stretching and constantly walking for miles should have an effect but it doesn't. I have a great friend who's lost a lot of weight and she said once she got her metabolism working she was able to eat decent sized meals, enough to fill her up, and still continue to lose weight. That's my problem, my metabolism doesn't exist because the thyroid controls that, and mine doesn't work. But it's ok to make fun of me, to make jokes and to point and laugh, you see I have no self control. Even though I can diet, I can exercise and I can eat right but all to no or very little effect. But that's my fault. All my fault. Not really saying it's not but there are some things out of my control, like in this economy finding a job that will not only pay the bills but provide health insurance at the same time are just everywhere. ::sigh:: Oh well, I keep soldering on, what else can I do?
It's just shit that people still think it's ok to make fun of fat people when they don't know why those people are fat to begin with and even if it's from a lack of self control, even if it's from a strange desire to be fat, why does hurting someone make so many other people laugh? Even normally decent people, people who care about others and put their money where their mouths are, find it ok to make fun of fat people and I just don't get that. I'm even guilty of this! How gross is that! I guess it's true that most people in the world can only feel good about themselves when they put other's down. Really sad isn't it?
03 October 2011
Evil in Movies
I do believe that in the seventh and final season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer she did a google search for Evil in movies or something like that, today may have been a part of that somewhere, but it pretty much describes what I'm gonna babble on about right now, as Bon Jovi is singing on my tv (via Netflix). Weird combo yes but I used to consider metal bands in the 80z to be evil so I suppose it's fitting...and seriously I think Jon Bon Jovi has some mojo going on 'cos he's just way sexier now than he ever was back in the 80z. WAY sexier.
Anywhooo I just finished watching what I consider to be the absolute scariest film ever made, a film I still can't watch in the dark when I'm by myself. It's none other than The Exorcist. Now I was only about 6 years old when this film came out but I remember the adverts for it on tv, the black screen with the song (Tubular Bells) playing and the girl screaming "Mother, make it stop!" which was seriously enough to freak me out back then. That song is still creepy even though I do have it on my iPod (I love Book of Love's version muchly), but it evokes goosebumps galore! I remember my cousin had snuck in to see it, he wasn't that much older than me, maybe 13? I can't remember and I haven't spoken to him in ages, but he snuck in and I remember him telling my mother it was the scariest thing he'd ever seen, that people were passing out and vomiting and seriously, I guess if I put myself back then in the early/mid 70z it would have made me at least scream hysterically. As it is the first time I ever saw it was when I was about 13 and it was on tv, we had a little tv in our bedroom, me and my brother, and I thought I'd be cool by watching it with the lights off and the door shut, all by myself. Well shit it took 2 seconds of seeing her possessed before all the lights went on, that door flew open and I was glued to my mother's side! I did go back and finish watching the film, from behind my blanket with the lights on mind you, and then I spent the next 2 weeks sleeping with my mother! lol That movie scared me more than anything else had ever even begun to scare me and it's left it's marks on my soul...it still scares me. I'm also addicted to all paranormal shows on tv, some are good and some are crap, but I find myself watching them all. I compare this addiction to being a junkie 'cos it's like I'm chasing that first time, how scared I was when I was a kid that first time I saw that movie, and I have to say that whilst some films have scared me none near as much as The Exorcist though I gotta say, Paranormal Activity 1 and 2? Well I made the mistake of watching the first one in the dark first of all, that was quickly fixed when I made my son turn the lights on...nothing scares my kid by the way, he's gonna be 13 in a couple of weeks and he's seen a lot of scary shit and I'll get to that in a bit, so scary films are nothing to him. Not when you've been through what he's been through. Anywhooo those 2 films got me good, especially the 2nd one. I didn't know what to expect with either film and I gotta say the first one was very smart, very well thought out and very well done. Nothing too in your face, you have to use your imagination for a lot of it which is what gets me every time 'cos I have a great imagination, much better than most movie makers anyway. The ending of the first one had me and my son watching 3 hours of comedies to get over it, lol, just so we could sleep. It bugged him, that first film, which is saying A LOT! The second one I didn't know exactly what the film was about but having seen the first I knew what to expect sort of and it was pretty much the prequel to the first one. I figured I'd watch it @10am on a very sunny, warm day so I'd have plenty of time to get over it...when the film was over I was so freaked out I had to phone my best friend and keep her on the phone for over 3 hours! lol I'm honestly NOT a wimp when it comes to films, I'll watch anything scary and nothing ever scares me. Blair Witch bothered me but again it was mostly letting your imagination fill in the blanks and again that's what gets me. So when my son got home I told him every single thing about the film and we watched it together later that night and it didn't scare him at all and it didn't bother me as much second time around so I chucked it up to knowing what was gonna happen, for both of us. 'Cos ordinarily my son would have freaked out, especially at the end of that film. So now I see Paranormal Activity 3 is coming out 2 days before my son's 13th birthday, we figured we may as well go see it in the cinema this time and this film is the prequel prequel to the first one...apparently why the first two films happened. I'm hoping it tells us that the scary bitch from the first film gets caught, exorcised and put away somewhere 'cos this whole thing with her still being out there? Again with my imagination that's not really welcome. I mean sure I know it's not a true story, but it plays on my fears.
I have demon phobia which ok I figure is a decent thing to be phobic about if you think about it. I mean they're scary things, demons, right? I sure as fuck don't want to meet one! Not even in passing, even though sometimes I think my cats are demon possessed when they start running up the walls...but that's a different story. :o) I wonder if I'd be so afraid of this subject if I had never seen The Exorcist? Or if I'd been older when I saw it for the first time maybe? I wasn't as sophisticated as my son is at his age, I was very easily frightened. It's a scary subject. I guess it takes faith in God to believe in the devil and demons, it makes sense. For a while I questioned whether or not there was a God but I never stopped believing in the fact that if the devil doesn't exist, evil does. Can you have one without the other? I suppose you can, I mean there is good in the world so you need an opposite right? I mean we've all witnessed evil, 9-11 pops into mind for proof of evil. But is that just the evil men do? Or is it deeper than that? Now I'm sure there is tons of stuff to study both online and off but really I prefer to come to my own conclusions and sometimes you just gotta have it...faith. When it comes down to it I just have to admit I have faith. There has to be a God, because I'm pretty sure there's a devil so the devil has to have a counter-part doesn't it? That would be God. Now I'll tell you right now I'm not a bible believer, I cannot believe in something that was written over 2 thousand years ago in a language that's been lost to us for at least that long, and I can't take something seriously that constantly contradicts itself. I was born and brought up Catholic but have left that faith because of how utterly evil I find it to be. All organised religion is evil if you ask me, they're all demanding absolute faith and they're all killing in the name of God and I'm pretty sure God isn't thrilled about that. I never understood that, war over religion. It's like "My God's better than your God." crap, like 2nd graders do on the playground ya know? Except those 2nd graders don't end up killing loads of people, torturing people, just because they believe differently. The Catholic Church is so beyond it's usefulness it's not even funny anymore. The very second it was proven that not only have there been loads of priests and nuns who have sexually and physically abused children for decades, the very fact that those priests and nuns were then hidden within the Church instead of punished for taking the most valuable thing a child has, their innocence. I cannot wrap my head around how horrible these kids felt to be having a priest who you're supposed to trust at least as much as your parents if not maybe a bit more in some families, is hurting you in a way no adult should hurt a child and then you've got the guilt that the Church is so good at pounding into children....it's just a circle jerk if you ask me, from start to finish. That trust is slaughtered, faith is slaughtered and perverted and what does that child have to turn to after that? How can those kids believe in anything after that? I dunno, I just know it's fucked up. So I lost all respect for the Church but not my faith. I can't blame God for what men do, however it never happened to me now did it? My son has honestly struggled with trying to figure out what religion he wants to have in his life, that he can believe in because he does believe in God, he just refuses the Church and that is not because of me I swear. My kid makes up his own mind, always has. Sure he takes my opinion into mind but in the end he has different beliefs than I do and I think that's wicked cool. I have a feeling he's going to follow Buddhism which again, wicked cool because he needs that peace that I believe that religion will bring to him. I'll sign him up tomorrow if he chooses. He's still mulling it over because he's really into Hinduism as well. He had a little girlfriend when he was 4 and 5 whose parents were from India and Hindu and they had a big influence on him at a young age. Not so much because of the religion but because of the warm, wonderful people they were. I loved the family myself, they were intelligent, warm, welcoming and loving. I've honestly not many people like them. I remember watching the little girl's dad playing with PJ as if he were his son...he couldn't have been more loving if he were my son's father. It was just part of who they were and my son is convinced it has a lot to do with their religion. He's studied both Buddhism and Hinduism a bit and likes both a lot. My kid astounds me with the things he thinks about sometimes, things I think about as an adult that no way would I have thought about as a kid!
Anyway, got a bit off topic there, sorry, it happens because my brain goes a lot faster than it should sometimes and it goes off in different directions than how I expected it to go. So ok I think maybe I wouldn't be such a paranormal junkie if my best friend in high school (and still to this day:oD ) didn't live in a haunted house. Now when we were in high school strange things started happening like plates or silverware suddenly reappearing in the sink after they'd been washed and put away, one thing that did not happen in her mother's home was that dishes were ever left in the sink. No way. They were washed, dried and put away immediately. Period. Make that exclamation. It just never happened. So when these things would end up back in the sink after they'd been put away it was freaksome. I remember we did a bit of research into the area where she lived and it does state that in the area were some Indian burial ground which is such a massive HOLY CRAP moment it's not even funny but the one thing that stuck out to me was that in the 20's and 30's Al Capone dumped dead bodies all over that area so I mean HOLY CRAP! That's pretty heavy! After high school she met some jerk who she moved in with but when she broke up with him her parents wouldn't let her back home for a bit, until she proved that she was finished with the guy so my mother let her stay with us. She lived with us for about 6 weeks give or take but when she did move back home she said things were a lot worse than they had been before, she'd actually seen the thing. Now some of the stories go like this...back in high school the 2 dogs they had would just get up out of a dead sleep and go bark incessantly at a corner of the ceiling in the front room, they'd refuse to go into the basement on their own and the one dog was practically unable to walk and would get up and walk to the front room just to have all the hair on it's body stand up and he'd just bark like crazy. It was always centered around the front room and the basement. Now I didn't go over there much when we were kids, but when we would I gotta say that basement was creepy though it shouldn't have been 'cos it was fixed up and stuff, but it was just....creepy. Plus the dogs just wouldn't go down there. When she'd moved back in with her parents they'd started going on camping trips at the weekends so she'd be home either alone or with her younger brother who was no help and on drugs and shit so basically even when he was home she was alone. She begged me to stay the night and eventually I agreed. I will admit I wasn't completely sure the house was haunted but she was freaked out enough to not want to be alone so I said I'd stay over. Now we spent most of the night in her room, we'd been drinking cranberry juice (no vodka thankyouverymuch) but it had gone bad so we dumped it out, cleaned our glasses, dried them and put them away, I swear to god we did. There was no more cranberry juice or anything so we just went back to her room. I remember feeling cold spots in her room but I honestly just figured it was cold outside so she had drafts from her window, even though they would be far from the windows, still it was a possibility. I still think it's possible that it was just drafts but it's improbable. I remember going to bed finally, me closer to the door 'cos I jokingly said if I saw anything in her room that night I was gonna be out of there like a shot. I remember joking and looking around her room saying "Nope, no ghosties yet!" until the one time there was something in the corner, right next to the fucking door. It wasn't that tall, it was hooded and it has yellow glowing eyes. I swear to god. To this day I get teased 'cos the best way to describe it is that it looked like a Jawa from Star Wars. Fuck even my kid teases me about it, him being a massive Star Wars geek and all. @@ Anywhoo it was fucking there in the corner, right by the fucking door and I nearly shit myself. I remember pulling the covers over my head and asking her if she saw it, she said yes it was there and described it exactly the same as I'd seen it and I hadn't told her what it looked like to me. Then my rational brain said it was this, it was that, it wasn't glowing eyes, it was the read out of her clock radio reflecting in the mirror but when I peaked, the thing was still there, yellow eyed and the fucking radio clock face was a blue anyway. So damn it. I made her switch with me and I called a friend of ours...I shook so hard that I moved that bed like the bed in The Exorcist moved. I can honestly say that to this day and before that day I've never been that afraid. Not ever. I was afraid for my life, for my soul, for whatever else my imagination was supplying for me at that moment. Thank god it was spring though 'cos the sun came up around 4:30am...I stayed under those fucking covers for hours, scared out of my mind, actually contemplating jumping out of her 2nd story window that no way would I have fit through 'cos they were really small windows that didn't open anyway...I'd have killed myself because her room was over the driveway and it sloped downward...but I was willing to give it a try I was so afraid. Just when I'd actually convinced myself 2 broken legs were better than that thing grabbing hold of me or her the room was brightening and I got up the nerve to check the room...the thing was gone. As I got up and got dressed she woke up and we discovered our glasses were back on her dresser, filled with cranberry juice, which was impossible as there was none left in the house. You never in your life seen anyone get out of a bed, into clothing and into her car as fast as I did! I was out of there in 20 seconds flat! I remember my hand shaking so hard it took forever for me to get that damned key into the ignition and that I was still so afraid that I had to stop driving when I was a couple blocks away from her house. My mind was already making excuses for everything that happened that night until I took a deep breath, took hold of my steering wheel and said out loud "You know what you saw, you know what happened, it was real so just fucking deal with it." and then went home. I never spent the night at her house again and believe me, she asked me too. I believe money was even offered but alas, my shit was staying away from that house at night. I remember not that long after that, at a weekend, since I wasn't staying over I decided to talk with her on the phone until she felt comfortable enough to sleep. Her parents were home, the dogs were home and her brother was home and everyone was asleep and there was this fucking.....moan that she said was coming from the front room, it was so loud that I had to take the phone away from my ear and it actually woke my mother up...but nobody in her house woke, not even the dogs. That was freaksome! I remember nearly shitting myself at that sound, no human throat could make that sound, honest! It was inhuman! We wonder to this day, because her parents don't live there anymore, if anything happens there now. That experience changed my entire life I have to say. I know I always had thought it would be so fucking cool to see a ghost or something, to have proof that these things exist but you know what? It's pretty much just really fucking scary. It's not cool. Not even a little bit. So it amazes me that these people actually go out there looking for proof of this sort of thing. I mean I don't have a clue what the fuck that was in her house, it could have been a demon, it could have been my imagination but I don't think it was. I don't think I'd go into another house that I knew for a fact was having issues to find proof, though sometimes I talk a big game that I would. Her mother in law's home is haunted but whatever is there isn't violent or anything and I guess I'd go and stuff but she doesn't want it riled up or angered and I respect that. It's her home, she has to live with these things that are there. No way can she come home with me! lol (BTW....sidenote here...my god JBJ is HOT!!!) She's taken a few photo's in the house but nothings shown up. There's this cemetery by her house, my friend's, and we've gone there at night a lot to take photo's and stuff. Mostly it's just spooky fun. I mean I bring my son and I wouldn't bring him somewhere I thought would put him in danger, it's a real old place and it's not...active. However earlier this year we went on one of our little trips and things were different. First of all it's an old cemetery, most of the graves are from the 1800's but suddenly there were 2 fresh graves and they gave off weird vibes. Now I'm not saying I'm sensitive or anything but we all felt strange and we felt a great desire to get the fuck out of there and that was a first. When we passed the gates and were crossing the street something happened that scared me as bad as her bedroom had all those years ago, I heard a growl. It scared me so bad it made me laugh the second I landed back in my skin 'cos I jumped out of my skin you see. Nobody else heard it, just me. I looked back real quick but didn't see anything so I just chalked it up to an active imagination and a dog. WTF the dog came from is beyond me. Especially when I saw the next day, in the shine of the sun, that where I heard the growl come from there was no way a dog there 'cos it wasn't anybodies yard or anything. It's hard to explain, you'll just have to take my word for it. That scared me even more. I mean it scared me down to my soul. There are just times in life that you know that while you can't explain something, it happened, it was there, you heard it...that was the second time that happened to me. Soooo I suppose this is also why I'm addicted to all this paranormal crap.
I guess it makes sense that if I believe evil exists, that the devil and demons exist, then it serves that God and maybe even Angel's exist. Can't have one without the other can you? It's a strange thing, believing in things you can't see unless they want you to see them. However it is what it is. There's no denying for me that what I saw was real, I saw it. I heard what I heard. I know evil exists. I have no doubts. Which brings me to another point...The Exorcist....what parents in their right minds, would let their beautiful, young, innocent daughter make such a film as that? There is no fucking amount of money in the world that would convince me to let my son make a film like that! NO WAY! I think that film ruined Linda Blair's life, I mean what has she done since that? I think I remember her saying she had to go into therapy after and who wouldn't! Just the way they made her look is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life! I to this day see pictures of her from that film and it scares the shit out of me! I don't like seeing it! Hey she was in an episode of Supernatural a couple seasons ago...and she looks good! I always thought she was so pretty and she's not aged at all really, she looked amazing. She was great in the episode which makes me a bit sad for her, I think that film stopped her from really being a big star, however there's not many people alive that don't know who she is. You say her name and people know the film she was in. The Exorcist never really scared my son, the freak, but even he says it's a freaky film. We just watched it tonight actually. Funnily enough it is one of a few films I will never own, never have as part of my collection. I love collecting dvd's, I love having films at my beck and call. The Exorcist, both of the Paranormal Activity films, Poltergeist...those will never be part of my collection.
Speaking of Supernatural the tv show...so unimpressed with the killing off of Castiel and Misha Collins. I will admit to being slightly obsessed with Misha, I find him infinitely interesting, hilarious, unique and quite sexy. I won't say he was the only reason why I watch the show 'cos I've been watching since the first episode, but the series got real good in the 4th season when he entered the scene! I'm really bummed out. Good thing it's such a brilliant show and that Jensen and Jared are gorgeous enough to keep my attention. NO seriously, the show is brilliant and they're brilliant actors, I'll not say I only watch it because of the habit of gorgeous men being cast...hell Jim Beavers is handsome! I think you have to be good looking to be on that show. Even the women are gorgeous. Freaky. Ok I'm done yammering. Probably didn't get half of what I wanted to say down but what can you do? I'm tired, it's nearly midnight and I just put on a film via Netflix. I couldn't live without my Netflix and instant streaming....
Oh and about my son...When we lived in our townhome he always swore he saw a shadowman and that it chased him. He used to tell me it was sitting in the bathroom staring at us (my bedroom and bed was directly in line of sight of the bathroom). I never saw anything in that place but when I was pregnant with him and alone in what was to be his bedroom I was on the internet, the door was closed and suddenly it started shaking, the doorknob, not the door. Like someone was trying to get in. But when I went to check it there was nobody there and my then husband was downstairs fast asleep with the dog and both cat's with him. I don't know what that was but I pretty much dismissed it. I don't know if I really believe there was something in that home, but I do believe my son believes there was. He was terrified of the dark, absolutely terrified and the weird thing is the second we moved in here and he knew it was ok he's no longer afraid of the dark. He said the shadowman was afraid of me, that I was stronger than it. I do remember that the last time we went to get the rest of our stuff after we moved he really freaked out because he said shadowman was really angry and he was coming up the stairs. He was so upset he ran out of the house and wouldn't come out of the car until we left. I did get a really bad feeling about the place that day, it was weird. I guess in the end I do believe him.
Anywhooo I just finished watching what I consider to be the absolute scariest film ever made, a film I still can't watch in the dark when I'm by myself. It's none other than The Exorcist. Now I was only about 6 years old when this film came out but I remember the adverts for it on tv, the black screen with the song (Tubular Bells) playing and the girl screaming "Mother, make it stop!" which was seriously enough to freak me out back then. That song is still creepy even though I do have it on my iPod (I love Book of Love's version muchly), but it evokes goosebumps galore! I remember my cousin had snuck in to see it, he wasn't that much older than me, maybe 13? I can't remember and I haven't spoken to him in ages, but he snuck in and I remember him telling my mother it was the scariest thing he'd ever seen, that people were passing out and vomiting and seriously, I guess if I put myself back then in the early/mid 70z it would have made me at least scream hysterically. As it is the first time I ever saw it was when I was about 13 and it was on tv, we had a little tv in our bedroom, me and my brother, and I thought I'd be cool by watching it with the lights off and the door shut, all by myself. Well shit it took 2 seconds of seeing her possessed before all the lights went on, that door flew open and I was glued to my mother's side! I did go back and finish watching the film, from behind my blanket with the lights on mind you, and then I spent the next 2 weeks sleeping with my mother! lol That movie scared me more than anything else had ever even begun to scare me and it's left it's marks on my soul...it still scares me. I'm also addicted to all paranormal shows on tv, some are good and some are crap, but I find myself watching them all. I compare this addiction to being a junkie 'cos it's like I'm chasing that first time, how scared I was when I was a kid that first time I saw that movie, and I have to say that whilst some films have scared me none near as much as The Exorcist though I gotta say, Paranormal Activity 1 and 2? Well I made the mistake of watching the first one in the dark first of all, that was quickly fixed when I made my son turn the lights on...nothing scares my kid by the way, he's gonna be 13 in a couple of weeks and he's seen a lot of scary shit and I'll get to that in a bit, so scary films are nothing to him. Not when you've been through what he's been through. Anywhooo those 2 films got me good, especially the 2nd one. I didn't know what to expect with either film and I gotta say the first one was very smart, very well thought out and very well done. Nothing too in your face, you have to use your imagination for a lot of it which is what gets me every time 'cos I have a great imagination, much better than most movie makers anyway. The ending of the first one had me and my son watching 3 hours of comedies to get over it, lol, just so we could sleep. It bugged him, that first film, which is saying A LOT! The second one I didn't know exactly what the film was about but having seen the first I knew what to expect sort of and it was pretty much the prequel to the first one. I figured I'd watch it @10am on a very sunny, warm day so I'd have plenty of time to get over it...when the film was over I was so freaked out I had to phone my best friend and keep her on the phone for over 3 hours! lol I'm honestly NOT a wimp when it comes to films, I'll watch anything scary and nothing ever scares me. Blair Witch bothered me but again it was mostly letting your imagination fill in the blanks and again that's what gets me. So when my son got home I told him every single thing about the film and we watched it together later that night and it didn't scare him at all and it didn't bother me as much second time around so I chucked it up to knowing what was gonna happen, for both of us. 'Cos ordinarily my son would have freaked out, especially at the end of that film. So now I see Paranormal Activity 3 is coming out 2 days before my son's 13th birthday, we figured we may as well go see it in the cinema this time and this film is the prequel prequel to the first one...apparently why the first two films happened. I'm hoping it tells us that the scary bitch from the first film gets caught, exorcised and put away somewhere 'cos this whole thing with her still being out there? Again with my imagination that's not really welcome. I mean sure I know it's not a true story, but it plays on my fears.
I have demon phobia which ok I figure is a decent thing to be phobic about if you think about it. I mean they're scary things, demons, right? I sure as fuck don't want to meet one! Not even in passing, even though sometimes I think my cats are demon possessed when they start running up the walls...but that's a different story. :o) I wonder if I'd be so afraid of this subject if I had never seen The Exorcist? Or if I'd been older when I saw it for the first time maybe? I wasn't as sophisticated as my son is at his age, I was very easily frightened. It's a scary subject. I guess it takes faith in God to believe in the devil and demons, it makes sense. For a while I questioned whether or not there was a God but I never stopped believing in the fact that if the devil doesn't exist, evil does. Can you have one without the other? I suppose you can, I mean there is good in the world so you need an opposite right? I mean we've all witnessed evil, 9-11 pops into mind for proof of evil. But is that just the evil men do? Or is it deeper than that? Now I'm sure there is tons of stuff to study both online and off but really I prefer to come to my own conclusions and sometimes you just gotta have it...faith. When it comes down to it I just have to admit I have faith. There has to be a God, because I'm pretty sure there's a devil so the devil has to have a counter-part doesn't it? That would be God. Now I'll tell you right now I'm not a bible believer, I cannot believe in something that was written over 2 thousand years ago in a language that's been lost to us for at least that long, and I can't take something seriously that constantly contradicts itself. I was born and brought up Catholic but have left that faith because of how utterly evil I find it to be. All organised religion is evil if you ask me, they're all demanding absolute faith and they're all killing in the name of God and I'm pretty sure God isn't thrilled about that. I never understood that, war over religion. It's like "My God's better than your God." crap, like 2nd graders do on the playground ya know? Except those 2nd graders don't end up killing loads of people, torturing people, just because they believe differently. The Catholic Church is so beyond it's usefulness it's not even funny anymore. The very second it was proven that not only have there been loads of priests and nuns who have sexually and physically abused children for decades, the very fact that those priests and nuns were then hidden within the Church instead of punished for taking the most valuable thing a child has, their innocence. I cannot wrap my head around how horrible these kids felt to be having a priest who you're supposed to trust at least as much as your parents if not maybe a bit more in some families, is hurting you in a way no adult should hurt a child and then you've got the guilt that the Church is so good at pounding into children....it's just a circle jerk if you ask me, from start to finish. That trust is slaughtered, faith is slaughtered and perverted and what does that child have to turn to after that? How can those kids believe in anything after that? I dunno, I just know it's fucked up. So I lost all respect for the Church but not my faith. I can't blame God for what men do, however it never happened to me now did it? My son has honestly struggled with trying to figure out what religion he wants to have in his life, that he can believe in because he does believe in God, he just refuses the Church and that is not because of me I swear. My kid makes up his own mind, always has. Sure he takes my opinion into mind but in the end he has different beliefs than I do and I think that's wicked cool. I have a feeling he's going to follow Buddhism which again, wicked cool because he needs that peace that I believe that religion will bring to him. I'll sign him up tomorrow if he chooses. He's still mulling it over because he's really into Hinduism as well. He had a little girlfriend when he was 4 and 5 whose parents were from India and Hindu and they had a big influence on him at a young age. Not so much because of the religion but because of the warm, wonderful people they were. I loved the family myself, they were intelligent, warm, welcoming and loving. I've honestly not many people like them. I remember watching the little girl's dad playing with PJ as if he were his son...he couldn't have been more loving if he were my son's father. It was just part of who they were and my son is convinced it has a lot to do with their religion. He's studied both Buddhism and Hinduism a bit and likes both a lot. My kid astounds me with the things he thinks about sometimes, things I think about as an adult that no way would I have thought about as a kid!
Anyway, got a bit off topic there, sorry, it happens because my brain goes a lot faster than it should sometimes and it goes off in different directions than how I expected it to go. So ok I think maybe I wouldn't be such a paranormal junkie if my best friend in high school (and still to this day:oD ) didn't live in a haunted house. Now when we were in high school strange things started happening like plates or silverware suddenly reappearing in the sink after they'd been washed and put away, one thing that did not happen in her mother's home was that dishes were ever left in the sink. No way. They were washed, dried and put away immediately. Period. Make that exclamation. It just never happened. So when these things would end up back in the sink after they'd been put away it was freaksome. I remember we did a bit of research into the area where she lived and it does state that in the area were some Indian burial ground which is such a massive HOLY CRAP moment it's not even funny but the one thing that stuck out to me was that in the 20's and 30's Al Capone dumped dead bodies all over that area so I mean HOLY CRAP! That's pretty heavy! After high school she met some jerk who she moved in with but when she broke up with him her parents wouldn't let her back home for a bit, until she proved that she was finished with the guy so my mother let her stay with us. She lived with us for about 6 weeks give or take but when she did move back home she said things were a lot worse than they had been before, she'd actually seen the thing. Now some of the stories go like this...back in high school the 2 dogs they had would just get up out of a dead sleep and go bark incessantly at a corner of the ceiling in the front room, they'd refuse to go into the basement on their own and the one dog was practically unable to walk and would get up and walk to the front room just to have all the hair on it's body stand up and he'd just bark like crazy. It was always centered around the front room and the basement. Now I didn't go over there much when we were kids, but when we would I gotta say that basement was creepy though it shouldn't have been 'cos it was fixed up and stuff, but it was just....creepy. Plus the dogs just wouldn't go down there. When she'd moved back in with her parents they'd started going on camping trips at the weekends so she'd be home either alone or with her younger brother who was no help and on drugs and shit so basically even when he was home she was alone. She begged me to stay the night and eventually I agreed. I will admit I wasn't completely sure the house was haunted but she was freaked out enough to not want to be alone so I said I'd stay over. Now we spent most of the night in her room, we'd been drinking cranberry juice (no vodka thankyouverymuch) but it had gone bad so we dumped it out, cleaned our glasses, dried them and put them away, I swear to god we did. There was no more cranberry juice or anything so we just went back to her room. I remember feeling cold spots in her room but I honestly just figured it was cold outside so she had drafts from her window, even though they would be far from the windows, still it was a possibility. I still think it's possible that it was just drafts but it's improbable. I remember going to bed finally, me closer to the door 'cos I jokingly said if I saw anything in her room that night I was gonna be out of there like a shot. I remember joking and looking around her room saying "Nope, no ghosties yet!" until the one time there was something in the corner, right next to the fucking door. It wasn't that tall, it was hooded and it has yellow glowing eyes. I swear to god. To this day I get teased 'cos the best way to describe it is that it looked like a Jawa from Star Wars. Fuck even my kid teases me about it, him being a massive Star Wars geek and all. @@ Anywhoo it was fucking there in the corner, right by the fucking door and I nearly shit myself. I remember pulling the covers over my head and asking her if she saw it, she said yes it was there and described it exactly the same as I'd seen it and I hadn't told her what it looked like to me. Then my rational brain said it was this, it was that, it wasn't glowing eyes, it was the read out of her clock radio reflecting in the mirror but when I peaked, the thing was still there, yellow eyed and the fucking radio clock face was a blue anyway. So damn it. I made her switch with me and I called a friend of ours...I shook so hard that I moved that bed like the bed in The Exorcist moved. I can honestly say that to this day and before that day I've never been that afraid. Not ever. I was afraid for my life, for my soul, for whatever else my imagination was supplying for me at that moment. Thank god it was spring though 'cos the sun came up around 4:30am...I stayed under those fucking covers for hours, scared out of my mind, actually contemplating jumping out of her 2nd story window that no way would I have fit through 'cos they were really small windows that didn't open anyway...I'd have killed myself because her room was over the driveway and it sloped downward...but I was willing to give it a try I was so afraid. Just when I'd actually convinced myself 2 broken legs were better than that thing grabbing hold of me or her the room was brightening and I got up the nerve to check the room...the thing was gone. As I got up and got dressed she woke up and we discovered our glasses were back on her dresser, filled with cranberry juice, which was impossible as there was none left in the house. You never in your life seen anyone get out of a bed, into clothing and into her car as fast as I did! I was out of there in 20 seconds flat! I remember my hand shaking so hard it took forever for me to get that damned key into the ignition and that I was still so afraid that I had to stop driving when I was a couple blocks away from her house. My mind was already making excuses for everything that happened that night until I took a deep breath, took hold of my steering wheel and said out loud "You know what you saw, you know what happened, it was real so just fucking deal with it." and then went home. I never spent the night at her house again and believe me, she asked me too. I believe money was even offered but alas, my shit was staying away from that house at night. I remember not that long after that, at a weekend, since I wasn't staying over I decided to talk with her on the phone until she felt comfortable enough to sleep. Her parents were home, the dogs were home and her brother was home and everyone was asleep and there was this fucking.....moan that she said was coming from the front room, it was so loud that I had to take the phone away from my ear and it actually woke my mother up...but nobody in her house woke, not even the dogs. That was freaksome! I remember nearly shitting myself at that sound, no human throat could make that sound, honest! It was inhuman! We wonder to this day, because her parents don't live there anymore, if anything happens there now. That experience changed my entire life I have to say. I know I always had thought it would be so fucking cool to see a ghost or something, to have proof that these things exist but you know what? It's pretty much just really fucking scary. It's not cool. Not even a little bit. So it amazes me that these people actually go out there looking for proof of this sort of thing. I mean I don't have a clue what the fuck that was in her house, it could have been a demon, it could have been my imagination but I don't think it was. I don't think I'd go into another house that I knew for a fact was having issues to find proof, though sometimes I talk a big game that I would. Her mother in law's home is haunted but whatever is there isn't violent or anything and I guess I'd go and stuff but she doesn't want it riled up or angered and I respect that. It's her home, she has to live with these things that are there. No way can she come home with me! lol (BTW....sidenote here...my god JBJ is HOT!!!) She's taken a few photo's in the house but nothings shown up. There's this cemetery by her house, my friend's, and we've gone there at night a lot to take photo's and stuff. Mostly it's just spooky fun. I mean I bring my son and I wouldn't bring him somewhere I thought would put him in danger, it's a real old place and it's not...active. However earlier this year we went on one of our little trips and things were different. First of all it's an old cemetery, most of the graves are from the 1800's but suddenly there were 2 fresh graves and they gave off weird vibes. Now I'm not saying I'm sensitive or anything but we all felt strange and we felt a great desire to get the fuck out of there and that was a first. When we passed the gates and were crossing the street something happened that scared me as bad as her bedroom had all those years ago, I heard a growl. It scared me so bad it made me laugh the second I landed back in my skin 'cos I jumped out of my skin you see. Nobody else heard it, just me. I looked back real quick but didn't see anything so I just chalked it up to an active imagination and a dog. WTF the dog came from is beyond me. Especially when I saw the next day, in the shine of the sun, that where I heard the growl come from there was no way a dog there 'cos it wasn't anybodies yard or anything. It's hard to explain, you'll just have to take my word for it. That scared me even more. I mean it scared me down to my soul. There are just times in life that you know that while you can't explain something, it happened, it was there, you heard it...that was the second time that happened to me. Soooo I suppose this is also why I'm addicted to all this paranormal crap.
I guess it makes sense that if I believe evil exists, that the devil and demons exist, then it serves that God and maybe even Angel's exist. Can't have one without the other can you? It's a strange thing, believing in things you can't see unless they want you to see them. However it is what it is. There's no denying for me that what I saw was real, I saw it. I heard what I heard. I know evil exists. I have no doubts. Which brings me to another point...The Exorcist....what parents in their right minds, would let their beautiful, young, innocent daughter make such a film as that? There is no fucking amount of money in the world that would convince me to let my son make a film like that! NO WAY! I think that film ruined Linda Blair's life, I mean what has she done since that? I think I remember her saying she had to go into therapy after and who wouldn't! Just the way they made her look is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life! I to this day see pictures of her from that film and it scares the shit out of me! I don't like seeing it! Hey she was in an episode of Supernatural a couple seasons ago...and she looks good! I always thought she was so pretty and she's not aged at all really, she looked amazing. She was great in the episode which makes me a bit sad for her, I think that film stopped her from really being a big star, however there's not many people alive that don't know who she is. You say her name and people know the film she was in. The Exorcist never really scared my son, the freak, but even he says it's a freaky film. We just watched it tonight actually. Funnily enough it is one of a few films I will never own, never have as part of my collection. I love collecting dvd's, I love having films at my beck and call. The Exorcist, both of the Paranormal Activity films, Poltergeist...those will never be part of my collection.
Speaking of Supernatural the tv show...so unimpressed with the killing off of Castiel and Misha Collins. I will admit to being slightly obsessed with Misha, I find him infinitely interesting, hilarious, unique and quite sexy. I won't say he was the only reason why I watch the show 'cos I've been watching since the first episode, but the series got real good in the 4th season when he entered the scene! I'm really bummed out. Good thing it's such a brilliant show and that Jensen and Jared are gorgeous enough to keep my attention. NO seriously, the show is brilliant and they're brilliant actors, I'll not say I only watch it because of the habit of gorgeous men being cast...hell Jim Beavers is handsome! I think you have to be good looking to be on that show. Even the women are gorgeous. Freaky. Ok I'm done yammering. Probably didn't get half of what I wanted to say down but what can you do? I'm tired, it's nearly midnight and I just put on a film via Netflix. I couldn't live without my Netflix and instant streaming....
Oh and about my son...When we lived in our townhome he always swore he saw a shadowman and that it chased him. He used to tell me it was sitting in the bathroom staring at us (my bedroom and bed was directly in line of sight of the bathroom). I never saw anything in that place but when I was pregnant with him and alone in what was to be his bedroom I was on the internet, the door was closed and suddenly it started shaking, the doorknob, not the door. Like someone was trying to get in. But when I went to check it there was nobody there and my then husband was downstairs fast asleep with the dog and both cat's with him. I don't know what that was but I pretty much dismissed it. I don't know if I really believe there was something in that home, but I do believe my son believes there was. He was terrified of the dark, absolutely terrified and the weird thing is the second we moved in here and he knew it was ok he's no longer afraid of the dark. He said the shadowman was afraid of me, that I was stronger than it. I do remember that the last time we went to get the rest of our stuff after we moved he really freaked out because he said shadowman was really angry and he was coming up the stairs. He was so upset he ran out of the house and wouldn't come out of the car until we left. I did get a really bad feeling about the place that day, it was weird. I guess in the end I do believe him.
29 September 2011
Just stopping by...
So ok I'm giving my brain a rest...not that it's tired or ever used much just that nothing is going on really. Many things make me crazy but I'm sick of thinking about them and tons of things turn me on but I'm sick of those as well. I need new hobbies... Anyhoo, it's not that I don't want to blog, I just suck at it and have nothing to say...
10 September 2011
11 September 2011
My brain is sorta scrambled right now, as I try to convey here what is in my head and what is in my heart. Of course 10 years ago that day was horrific, the single most terrifying day of my entire life, but to say those words doesn't do it justice. I was convinced we were at the brink of a world war, that the world would never be the same again. I kept asking myself "Is this why I brought this beautiful child into the world? Is this the world I wanted him born into? Is he about to die a toddler?". I, like everyone else in this country and around the world, knew things would never be the same, they could never be the same. There is no way that, down to a person, anybody who saw even 10 minutes of what happened that day could go back to a normal life or what passed for normal before that day. We're a stronger people now, our eyes have been opened and we know for a certainty that yes, we're strong but we're not anymore invincible than any other country in this world. It was in how we reacted to the attack that I think separated us from the rest. I don't say that with blushes or excess pride, I really think we came together as a people and overcame everything that the terrorists had tried to do. Yes lots of people died but they didn't die in vain. We remember them, we honour them, we teach our kids about their bravery. We cried together, we mourned together and we became a stronger nation together. I'm still convinced going to war with Iraq was the lousiest thing to ever happen, especially as it was done under pretense and lies, but this isn't that sort of blog I want to do tonight. I want to honour those who lost their lives and the families they left behind, especially those children who were born that never knew a parent because he/she died that day for no damned reason other than because the devil himself thought he was going to send us a message. Sure we got the message, how do you like hell? Was it a good homecoming? I'm not an overly religious person but there are things I believe in with all my heart and one of those things is knowing that that bastard, who will not be honoured with me typing the letters of his name, is burning in hell...even if it's a metaphoric sort of burning.
The things that have stuck with me from that day are how otherwise ordinary human beings turned into honest to God heroes right before our eyes. It happened with every firefighter in NYC who charged towards the one area in the world that everyone else was desperate to get away from. It happened when an airplane was taken back and crashed into the ground instead of our country's capital or the White House. It is in the policemen/women who tried, with their last breath, to save just one more person. It was in the firemen/women and police from all over this country who packed a suitcase, hugged their family farewell as they headed towards ground zero to assist those who needed their help in the massive clean up. My pride knew no bounds watching Chicago firemen pack up their lives and go to help their brothers and sisters in NYC when they needed that help more than they needed that next breath. I listened to a guy yesterday on my local news special say how he went out there to help, himself a fireman, and how he had to call it a day on New Years Eve that year, he simply could not take anymore. He took more than I ever would be strong enough to take.
For me I have to say I was maybe most humbled by the ordinary men who, on Flight 93, took back their destiny and said to their murderers "We will not die how you're telling us to die, we will die to make sure nobody else but us dies.". Those men could have sat horrified in their seats and let the terrorists do what they had planned to do but they didn't. They weren't trained to be heroes, they came into it naturally. Like I always say, "Their mama's raised them up right.". I feel it deep in my soul the loss their families must still feel, the pain and anger, but they can go to bed at night knowing this world is a better place for their son's. Can you imagine if that plane would have crashed in to our biggest symbol of freedom, the White House? That day was horrific enough, we did not need to have that happen too. I can honestly say I do not think I'd have it in me to do anything other than cry in that sort of situation. Those men will forever be the biggest heroes of that day.
I know the tears will flow tomorrow, they've been flowing since yesterday, it's only natural. But let there come a time in the coming day when we dry those tears and those of the people around us and remind the rest of the world what it is to be an American. Lets remind the world why so many come to this country to start a fresh, new life. We owe it to those who died that day, not because they deserved it or because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time but because they died American. Lets never forget the sight of people jumping from 70+ floors up in the WTC building's because they retook their destiny back from the evil, twisted terrorists who only knew how to hate. They are jealous of us, of what we have, but instead of striving for what we have they seek out to destroy it. We can't let them win or forget what it is to have Americans as enemies.
I wonder what sort of remembrances will continue every year after tomorrow comes and goes because lets face it, sure we remember D-Day but we don't really think of the horror of that day do we? I wasn't even alive, my mother wasn't even alive when that happened, it's a concept that, until 2001, was unfathomable. Unfortunately we learned really damned quick what they felt watching Pearl Harbour being attacked so lets make sure that every year we honour our country and...well US! We deserve it, we're great, we're American!
02 September 2011
My little part of the world
In my little part of the world I'm living in an apartment that is the perfect size for me and my son. 2 bedrooms, mine is huge and his is perfect for him, as big as his bedroom was when we lived in our house. Townhouse, whatever. The livingroom here is massive, so much room, a decent sized kitchen but not enough counter space (watching HGTV as I do I could totally redo the kitchen to incorporate enough counter space without making the space smaller, there's so much dead space), and a small bathroom that does bum me out. I do love my place though, after all, it's mine. It's the first place that was ever JUST MINE. I can decorate how I want (or I could if I wasn't broke) and it's all up to me to make it a home for my son and me. I think I'm doing a good job, I mean sure it could be cleaner but is that really the end all, be all of existance? My son loves our place, he's comfortable and he's happy. That's all that matters to me, good roof over his head, nice clothes in his closet and a lot of them, food in the refrigerator (though that's getting harder to maintain as he eats EVERYTHING all the time). He's got the basics I suppose, but I think there's so much more to parenting than just providing the basics. The basics will get you through but do you really want your kids to grow up and say "Sure, my mother provided the basics but that's all."? I sure don't. I want a home that's less than perfect, a bit messy and the place my son will think of longingly when it's cold outside and he's walking home from somewhere. I still get that feeling when it's cold outside, that I want to be home where it's warm, young again with my mother waiting with hot chocolate. She didn't do that all the time but when me and my brother were outside playing in the snow? Hot chocolate. And it's something that has stuck with me through my entire life, that feeling of love in that mug. Or if it was cold out and we were coming in for lunch she'd make us the mug 'o' soup and have hot tea for us, so when we finished we'd be fortified and warm enough to return to the snow! I always worry that my son won't have those sorts of memories, that I'm not providing him with memories he'll revisit when he's a father, when he's grown and not living with me anymore. When he's rich and famous (and he will be, I have absolutely no doubt about that) and winning that Oscar for his latest film (either as an actor or a director) I want him to say he wouldn't be where he is if it wasn't for his mother. I'm serious, I want the kudos. Especially that first one, then after that he can still mention me but then he can add like my mother and step dad, his uncle and maybe even his dad. ;o) But I want that first one all to myself. We've already had this talk and he's agreed to it. lol
My son. My pride. My joy. My love. I knew going into this whole mother thing 13 years ago that I'd love my son (we knew he was a boy right away) but I have to admit that I was still very unprepared for the intensity of that love, for the depth and all encompassing love that I have for him. There is literally nothing I wouldn't do for him, I'd die for him if I had to. I am the proverbial mama bear when it comes to him and while I know he's not perfect, just don't let me hear anybody else say he's not perfect. The most amazing thing has been to watch him grow, to go from one stage to the next, to see him learn all the things I was afraid he wouldn't or make that worried that he wouldn't. We all worry about our kids, us mum's, it's just what we do. My mum still worries about me, she even worries about me crossing a street as if I was 7 years old again. @@ lol It's a mother's prerogative to worry like that, I get that now. I watch my son with awe as he goes now from being a boy to being a young man, he's taller than me now, his voice has mostly changed (he shocked all his friends when he went back to school and his voice was so deep and different) and he's just man-shaped and hairy! lol We've got the zit's on the run thanks to his dad and he's figuring out what sort of style statement he wants to make. He's not a baby anymore. I have a hard time with that sometimes, not always but just once in a while I want my baby back. That bouncy, giggly, happy 4 month old who told me stories in his baby babble and laughed and laughed when I'd ask him to tell me more. But then that's offset by him being able to wipe his own butt and him being able to make most of his own food when he's gotta have a snack and especially in the mornings on my day off when he can and does get himself up, showered, dressed and fed for school! I'm so very proud of him, he's always been mature but it was this summer that he showed me that I can honestly count on him. When, back in June, I hurt my back real bad at work, I was dependent on him for a lot of things, like walking. That boy never fussed about having to stop doing whatever it was he was doing to help me, he never rolled his eyes at what I needed from him, he was there 24/7 and for that he'll never, ever know how incredibly proud of him I am. It's good to know I can count on my kid to do what's right, what needs to be done. He loves me. I'm his momma. He's never really called me mommy, he's always called me momma. Not so much now, unless he's being sweet which he does a lot, mostly now I'm mom which is fine, because that's what I am...PJ's mom. That's not all I am but it's what I am best.
I am not one to blow my own whistle, in fact it's always pissed off my mother how she sees me as unfair to myself I always am, how hard on myself I am, but I tell her I'm not, I'm just a realist. I'm honest about me. I don't do many things right, or well, or at all, but my kid? THAT I do well. I do that perfectly. I couldn't ask more of my son than what he is, he's a good kid, he's got a good head on his newly broad shoulders, a big heart and he mixes them both very well. He's intelligent, he's quick, he's funny as hell, he's talented and he dreams big dreams for himself that he vows to make come true. That's why I know someday he will be thanking me when he receives that Oscar, I know he will because he know's he will. He has absolutely no doubt in his entire body that he will be the next George Lucas, that he will accomplish exactly what he's set out to do since he was 6 years old. He works hard at it now, the planning for his shows and films, he's been writing them since he was 6 and he makes them better as he gets older and more talent. He's dreamed himself a damned huge dream but honest, if anyone can make a huge dream come true? My PJ can, and he will! Just you wait and see!
My son. My pride. My joy. My love. I knew going into this whole mother thing 13 years ago that I'd love my son (we knew he was a boy right away) but I have to admit that I was still very unprepared for the intensity of that love, for the depth and all encompassing love that I have for him. There is literally nothing I wouldn't do for him, I'd die for him if I had to. I am the proverbial mama bear when it comes to him and while I know he's not perfect, just don't let me hear anybody else say he's not perfect. The most amazing thing has been to watch him grow, to go from one stage to the next, to see him learn all the things I was afraid he wouldn't or make that worried that he wouldn't. We all worry about our kids, us mum's, it's just what we do. My mum still worries about me, she even worries about me crossing a street as if I was 7 years old again. @@ lol It's a mother's prerogative to worry like that, I get that now. I watch my son with awe as he goes now from being a boy to being a young man, he's taller than me now, his voice has mostly changed (he shocked all his friends when he went back to school and his voice was so deep and different) and he's just man-shaped and hairy! lol We've got the zit's on the run thanks to his dad and he's figuring out what sort of style statement he wants to make. He's not a baby anymore. I have a hard time with that sometimes, not always but just once in a while I want my baby back. That bouncy, giggly, happy 4 month old who told me stories in his baby babble and laughed and laughed when I'd ask him to tell me more. But then that's offset by him being able to wipe his own butt and him being able to make most of his own food when he's gotta have a snack and especially in the mornings on my day off when he can and does get himself up, showered, dressed and fed for school! I'm so very proud of him, he's always been mature but it was this summer that he showed me that I can honestly count on him. When, back in June, I hurt my back real bad at work, I was dependent on him for a lot of things, like walking. That boy never fussed about having to stop doing whatever it was he was doing to help me, he never rolled his eyes at what I needed from him, he was there 24/7 and for that he'll never, ever know how incredibly proud of him I am. It's good to know I can count on my kid to do what's right, what needs to be done. He loves me. I'm his momma. He's never really called me mommy, he's always called me momma. Not so much now, unless he's being sweet which he does a lot, mostly now I'm mom which is fine, because that's what I am...PJ's mom. That's not all I am but it's what I am best.
I am not one to blow my own whistle, in fact it's always pissed off my mother how she sees me as unfair to myself I always am, how hard on myself I am, but I tell her I'm not, I'm just a realist. I'm honest about me. I don't do many things right, or well, or at all, but my kid? THAT I do well. I do that perfectly. I couldn't ask more of my son than what he is, he's a good kid, he's got a good head on his newly broad shoulders, a big heart and he mixes them both very well. He's intelligent, he's quick, he's funny as hell, he's talented and he dreams big dreams for himself that he vows to make come true. That's why I know someday he will be thanking me when he receives that Oscar, I know he will because he know's he will. He has absolutely no doubt in his entire body that he will be the next George Lucas, that he will accomplish exactly what he's set out to do since he was 6 years old. He works hard at it now, the planning for his shows and films, he's been writing them since he was 6 and he makes them better as he gets older and more talent. He's dreamed himself a damned huge dream but honest, if anyone can make a huge dream come true? My PJ can, and he will! Just you wait and see!
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