‘Normal’ childhood? - Part Three - The Bat and the Broom

Be sure to read part one and part two before this one

At the ripe age of about 9, and after causing some sort of stink at the dinner table, I was sent to my room while everyone else finished their dinner and had their ice cream.

Now, we lived in an old Victorian house and my room, the one that I shared with B1 was on the top floor …the converted attic.

Sitting up there sulking on the edge of my bed, wondering if I could coerce B2 to sneak me up some ice cream after dinner, I was startled by a freaking bird flying right through my open window. As it zipped back and forth around my room, spinning in circles, seemingly very disoriented, this ‘bird’ swooped down and got its feet caught in my hair.

Pause for image of said hair. (and maybe a bit of laughter)

Completely freaking out, running in circles, yelling for my mother and flinging my arms up to try to dislodge this hair intruder….I hear my mother yelling up the stairs, “I told you to be quiet up there…or you’ll stay up there all night!”

Continuing my cries for help, my mother stormed her way up to my room, cursing me enough so that I did not know who to be more scared of…this beast clawing at my head…or the one about to bust through my bedroom door with a belt.

A second later my mother burst though my door, with belt in hand and a lung full of air to scream at me. Upon seeing the flapping, tangled mess that was once my head, she screamed, “BAT!” and swiftly ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Shocked that A. It was a bat in my hair and not a bird…and B. that my mother would run out and just leave me there. I continued screaming and running around the room. A minute or so later she barged back into my room…armed with a broom. She march straight at me and began bashing me on the head with the broom…worried more so about hitting the bat than the structural integrity of my cranium. Once she successfully knocked the bat loose from my hair she dragged my whimpering body out of the room (as if I were a wounded soldier being saved by a war hero) and slammed the door once again.

After pleading with the man that lived next door, the bat was evicted from my room. The story ends with a haircut appointment for me early the next morning.

As the stories are seemingly endless…I’ll continue with another next time – Military Training

Kids Are A Reflection

As a parent, I can say that I find it funny how much you can tell about the parenting by the attitude of kids. I truly think that when you encounter those smart-ass kids with disrespectful attitudes and a filthy mouth…it is the parents’ fault. Those bratty kids that whine and can’t do a damn thing on their own…parents’ fault. The kids failing at school…parents’ fault. The trouble makers, the bullies, the sissies, the druggies and the sluts…all the parents’ fault. Yes….there are exceptions, but for the most part I think that much of the above can and could be quickly sqashed if the parents act quickly and tend to their kids the way a parent should.

This also goes the other way. You know when you meet that kid who seems 5 years older than they really are. The one’s that consistently say please and thank you. The one’s who do well in school. The ones that surround themselves with decent friends. The ones who enjoy being home as much as going out with friends. The ones who, by nature, offer respect to elders and don’t talk back.

You meet those kids and suddenly wonder what you could do to get your kids to act more like them…”Have I done something wrong? Why doesn’t my kid act like that?”

Yes…you guessed it. I am talking about Mariah and her kids. For any parent…or Mother for that matter, there is no better compliment than someone telling you how great a job you have done in raising such well rounded and wonderful children.

I am saying this to you Mariah. You have done the impossible. You’ve raised 4 great kids who all have the ‘good’ qualities that I mentioned above. No matter how you feel about yourself on any given day. Know that you have successfully out-parented 90% of the nation.

Happy Mother’s Day M-Cool !!!!!!!!

Sidelines, Soccer Moms and Blood

Standing at the sidelines feeling completely “in” the game. I watch every movement by the players on both sides. My arms, legs and body move and twitch with the game involuntarily. As I pace up and down the sideline with the action, I tune out the clusters of chatty moms that seem to surround me.

My voice overpowers that of both coaches and the rest of the parents combined. I shout out moves and plays to the player with the ball. I bark at players to ‘open up’ and call for the ball. Forgetting about the scores of sibling children buzzing up and down the sidelines…and the moms cheering for their sons to play well. Here I am…shouting at the top of my lungs, “Take him down!” “Use your body!” “Flatten him!” I call out to my son as loud as I can, “Cody….take that kid out!”

Now I know that my voice carries and I am sure that everyone at the field can hear my aggressive and brutal orders. After catching disapproving glances from parents…on both teams, I tone it down a notch. I continue pacing up and down the field…intent on mot missing a beat. As I pass by a group of moms, sitting in their little folding chairs…talking about a sale at Macy’s or the latest debacle at the grocery store….I can’t help but to stop and say something crass…or at least uncalled for. Today it was, “Um, you are at a Lacrosse game…not the nail salon. Enough gossip…Watch the game.”

I know, I know…these are the parents of the other kids on the team and people that I spend a lot of time with. I really do not mean to be offensive, but how dare they not be as into the game as I am? I have secretly gone over to the players at halftime and broke out a wad of cash while announcing that I will pay $5 for every opponent that they take out of the game and $3 to see blood oozing out of anyone on the other team.

I know that some of the parents…and the coach have heard me…I am now starting to fear that everyone thinks that I am completely psychotic. Yes, I have been warned by referees before and almost been asked to leave games.

Yes, these are 12 and 13 year old boys. Yes, this is a team sport. Yes, the coaches are working hard to have the kids learn sportsmanship and to advance their skill with their sticks. I just can’t help myself…if you can’t outmaneuver your opponent…take his ass out!

It seems obvious that…I am in my own little sideline world, mostly due to the fact that when I go to games now and get my chair set up…the rest of the parents set up about 15 yards down the field from me. I suppose my pacing up and down, screaming at the top of my lungs for blood may interfere with the moms just wanting to see little Johnny get his first goal.

3 Fucking Years!!!!!!

You ever have something that you really want to do (for many reasons) and you just can’t seem to get it done…no matter how hard you try?

Well that is MY LIFE!

As you all know…I married the wrong bitch-ass, cunt, troll, psycho person the first time around. We separated in September of 2005 and the divorce proceedings started shortly afterward.

Now…3 FUCKING YEARS LATER…I still can’t seem to get the freakin troll off my back!

I love my two young boys (who live with their motherfucker) to death…but I want the legal issues to be finalized so that there is no more back and forth and we can all move on.
I fell in love with Mariah (Insane Mama) and her kids…I want to marry her, but I can’t until my divorce is finalized.
I want to be able to get along ok with mongoloid cunt…but she is a nasty, backstabbing piece of shit…and I have to say that I’ve had some pretty evil thoughts about her…and her well being…and continue to find myself smiling after each thought.

How can a divorce case last more than 3 years when there is no fight over money or property? Well…let me tell you:

She has ‘changed’ lawyers 4 times…each time the new one would be granted a continuance.
She has come to every court appearance with long lists of accusations, which the judge (by law) has to examine.
She makes a point to state at every opportunity that she will not agree to, but is willing to ‘discuss’ overnight visits down the road…knowing that that is what I want…so we have to go back to court and fight again.

On another note….but about as frustrating…I had this throat problem since last December, where I irritatingly clear my throat every 5 minutes or so…EVERY DAY!!! At first I thought that I was just a bit sick, then tried some random over the counter meds that by reading them I thought might work. Then I went to see my Dr. who told me that it must be an allergy….although the allergist and blood work up that I had done said that I am not allergic to anything. My doc put me on Zyrtec D and the shit stopped…after about 2 weeks…but in the meantime…I got a cold and now, although not clearing my throat…I can’t get rid of my hacking cough. Just another thing that I just can’t seem to have ‘closure’ with.

TALK ABOUT PEEING IN THE WIND!

My Sister Is A Ninja

I going to take you all back to Durham , NH…the year is 1976. I live with my mother, stepfather, 3 sisters, 2 brothers and our Golden Retriever Cinnamon. As you can imagine…the house was ‘hectic.’ Between us siblings…someone was always fighting. For the most part it was pretty amusing. I’m second oldest, I have an older sister, so I caused, instigated or was the bully in many of the fights. Some fights were physical, some emotional but they were ALL quite the show.

I have a memory of my youngest brother so mad at me(just for making fun of him) he swooped up the iron fire poker and chased me all over the house…until I was able to maneuver into my parent’s room (the only room in the house with a door that locks.) That made no difference because about 5 seconds later, after I hear some banging…I see the tip of the fire poker as it is smashing through the door. I had to jump from the second story to avoid that encounter.

On another sunny New Hampshire day…my middle brother and sister were going at it. I don’t even remember what it was all about…but what I do remember is that IT went on ALL day. At dinner that night, while our mom was still in the kitchen about to bring out our food, the two of them started up again. My brother was sitting at one end of our long table and my sister on the opposite side, in hopes that the arguing would cease. My brother kept egging her on and jabbing at her…That is until…out of nowhere, she picked up her fork and threw it (ninja style) across the table…the fucking thing hit my brother square between the eyes…and actually stuck there for 4 or 5 seconds…til we heard it clanking to the floor. ALL of us (mother included) just sat there, stunned, jaws on the floor…and wide-eyed.
After that night…we all thought twice about pushing middle sister too far. That was a scary little 8 year old.

Double Update

This, my dear friends, is, I’m sure going to shock you. I am going to write TWO, SHORT, updates in one post. Now mind you, this is something that I’ve never tried before…and I urge you not to try this at home…unless I am successful – then everyone should do it.

Crap, off–base again. Sorry.

Ok, the first topic of my double-header is my birthmother. Now most of you know the situation, but if not please catch up on all seven posts.
1. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/vomit-call.html
2. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/vomit-call-continued.html
3. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/nothing-like-little-monday-morning.html
4. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/meeting-my-birth-mother-for-first-time.html
5. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/meeting-my-birth-mother-part-2-0f-2.html
6. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/no-matter-how-brief.html
7. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/07/abandoned-for-second-time.html

Now, I took all of your advice and sent her another email on Tuesday the 8th ….and have yet to receive any reply. I have talked with Insane Mama about it and at first she reiterated some of the things that you guys said; maybe she is digesting, maybe she needs some time, maybe she is dealing with other important things, etc. I understand that…BUT…If you reunite with your birth child and then you get (not one but) two emails from him…wouldn’t you at least reply with something like, “I need a bit of time …I will contact you when I can.” Or something like that. The NO RESPONSE is what is killing me…not the does she want to stay in contact stuff. I can deal with rejection…it is the being ignored part that hurts.


The second subject of this post is my step father. I wanted (and wanted to give you) an update on my stepfather’s progress after his operations (see below prior posts if you came to this party late)
1. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/06/dad-number-3-not-natural-or.html
2. http://ipitw.blogspot.com/2008/07/dad-number-3-update.html

Now I have called two days in a row to get an update and have not gotten any response. What the fuck? Now both mothers are dissing me?

I will give you an update as soon as I get one.