Resign

Well, I did it. I turned in my resignation to the boss today. (Monday. It is technically Tuesday now.) I was a bit nervous about it, but just a bit. I was looking forward to it, also.

I got to the office about 12:30 or so. This is a good time because the morning crises are usually resolved and the afternoon drama hasn't begun. He was in his office and in a pretty good mood. He can be a lot of fun to talk to when he's not stressing over some emergency. And he isn't a man to stress unnecessarily.

I had printed up my resignation letter and sealed it in an envelope. I wanted to be able to leave it on his desk if he wasn't in. He opened it, read the first sentence, and looked up at me. "Why? What's going on?" I said "read the rest of the letter."

To give you the sense of things, I'll show you "the rest."

Thank you for the opportunities you have afforded me in this position. I have learned a lot about working with others, but more importantly I have learned a lot about myself. I have experienced great personal growth over the last three and a half years. This experience has been invaluable. You have been a wonderful supervisor and a joy to work with. I hope we can remain friends.

The time has come for me to seek other opportunities; to broaden my horizons and sphere of influence. I will forever be grateful to you and the school district for teaching me to exercise my ability to be a positive influence in the community.

We had a very good discussion. He honed in on the bit about being a positive influence. He told me that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have had a very positive influence on a lot of people, both students and district employees of one variety or another. Oh, yeah, that made me feel good!

And it went on from there. We touched on a lot of the things I wanted to tell him. Like how I know I do a very good job. I've helped him a lot by taking care of things within my ability to do so, leaving him free from those concerns. (A lot of the other drivers can't or won't do that) We talked about how he has given me a wide variety of experiences since the very beginning. The asshat threw me to the sharks my first day on the job! He put me as a monitor on one of the worst routes in the city! I was flabbergasted, overwhelmed, my naivete was shattered like a fragile crystal goblet thrown against a brick wall. I have driven many different routes, and have learned a lot from each one. Especially about myself. He has been good for me. I told him this.

I told him I feel as though my abilities are being underutilized in this job, that I want to be in a position where I can be more intellectually stimulated and challenged to further my personal growth and influence on others. He seemed to really understand, to sympathize. He was supportive, which pleases me. He could have handled it differently. He could have tried to cajole me into staying a little bit longer. But I'm very proud of myself because I averted that course by being very strong and confident about my decision. And as many of you know, I'm not feeling particularly strong and confident these days.

My resignation was very successful. I feel even better and stronger and more ready to face what lies ahead, whatever that may be.

Bawdy or nice?

Everyone else is doing it. And I was curious.

Well shit! I thought something would show up. I'm cleaner than I thought. I guess I'm pretty safe for work, huh?

4 things meme

This is one of the latest memes to make the rounds, and it looked like fun. So here's my contribution to the greater body of knowledge, such as it is:

Four Jobs I have had in my life: (that I was paid for)
Nanny
TV repair shop "receptionist" and scheduler
caretaker in a ward of severely handicapped young people (this was in 1980 when just about every special needs child was placed in a state home, before "special needs" was the proper word and shortly after the term "retarded" ceased to be appropriate.)
School bus driver (special needs, once again)

Four Movies I would watch/have watched over and over:
It's a Wonderful Life
The Birdcage
A Field of Dreams
Benny and Joon

Four Places I have lived:
Orlando, Florida
Macon, Georgia
New Bern, North Carolina
Easley, South Carolina

Four TV Shows that I watch:
um.... does Braves Baseball count?
how about The Weather Channel?
Mythbusters, though not regularly and not recently
World's Wildest Police Videos, again not regularly nor recently

Four Places I have visited:
Grand Cayman Island
Silverton, Colorado
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Chesapeake, Virginia

Four People who email me regularly:
Mama (usually sappy stuff I'm supposed to send to so many friends within so much time, which I delete)
Superman
Steve
Patrick


Four Favorite Foods:
chocolate
apples
cookies
pot roast with potatoes

Four Places I would like to be right now:
Charlottesville, Virginia
New York City
Flint, Michigan
on the Blue Ridge Parkway

Four Things I am looking forward to this year:
no longer driving the school bus
enlightenment
autumn
Light coming home from school for the summer

Four People who should post Four Things:
Brilliant or Something
Butch (because he's a new blogger and I want to get to know him)
and two other random people, make up your own list, or whoever wants to do this

George Santayana was on to something

Today's quote from A Word A Day is:

All living souls welcome whatever they are ready to cope with; all else they ignore, or pronounce to be monstrous and wrong, or deny to be possible.
-George Santayana, philosopher (1863-1952)

My prayer is that the younger generations are ready to cope with homosexuality, that sexual orientation will soon be a non-issue. This quote provides one possible explanation for why homophobia exists in its current form today. From my study I find things aren't as bad now as they were in western culture a generation or two ago. But there is a long way to go before we are not judged by our sexual orientation.

A brief history of my last 20 years – book eight

How we got here

Why we got here

What we're doing here

Book eight

Let's review, shall we? We've covered my history up to March of 2006. We live in this ugly little 3 bed/2 bath brick ranch in Greenwood, SC. The family consists of my husband and me, our two biological children, 2 adopted children, and one C, the sweet gay boy we took in when his mother kicked him out. Occasionally C's boyfriend S stays here, too.

Just for kicks and giggles, let's look at some of the things contributing to my stress level.

I hate living in this 3/2 brick ranch ugly thing in a neighborhood

There are 2 adults and 5 or 6 children aged 8-17 living in this 1600sq. ft. house

I drive a school bus, a regular route with large number of troublesome students

C lives with us now and needs a lot of attention

Everyone else still needs attention and is jealous of the time I spend with C

We are being sued by our ex-landlord

Sproing is having a LOT of trouble behaving himself in 2^nd grade

I am co-leading three different Girl Scout troops, 2 of which are outreach projects

I am working through a radical change in my fundamental belief system

That's as much as I can think of at the moment. As I look at it all written down it looks a bit overwhelming.

But wait! That's not all! If you act now you can receive additional Stress ™ for the price of your sanity! Operators are standing by.

Yes, things are about to get worse. I'm actually having trouble writing this down, reliving it in my mind. I don't want to write out the next bit. Deep breath. OK, into the breach…

One Monday evening in either late March or early April, S was at out house with C, and his mom had told him to be home by 8:00. Superman had taken Sproing to a cub scout meeting, which ended at 7:30. I was waiting for them to get home so I could take S home. I didn't want to leave Diva here by herself, or something. I forget the why of it all. Anyway, my scouts were late, and it was getting very close to 8:00. C and S and I got in the van and headed for S's home.

We drove out of our neighborhood and down the larger avenue toward downtown. As we approached the first major intersection we could see blue flashy lights and lots of unusual activity in the road ahead. I was about to turn down a side street to avoid the mess, but something in the back of my head told me to approach the intersection. As we got closer I saw a vehicle overturned in the road. Closer, and I realized it was a pick-up truck. A red pick-up truck. A small red pick-up truck. Sort of like the one Superman was driving. I pulled the van into the parking lot of a bank on the corner to get a closer look. My heart was still beating, my breathing still almost normal, because it could be a different truck. But when I pulled along side the wreck I saw on the tailgate of the truck the bumper sticker that identified our truck. At that point my heart stopped beating and I quit breathing.

I remember it all so clearly. I turned off the van and set the emergency brake. I opened the door and got out of the van. By then C and S had jumped out and were standing beside me. We walked toward the wreck and the law enforcement officer (deputy sheriff? police? state trooper? I don't remember that detail.) who was standing beside the mess. The boys were on either side of me, holding my arms, holding me up. I told the officer that was my husband's truck, he and my son were in it. He quickly told me they were alright. They had been put in an ambulance which was (for some strange reason unfathomable to me) parked behind the fast food place on the opposite corner of the intersection. I looked around the truck. I looked AT the truck. It looked bad. I picked up a couple of things that had been in the truck bed and were now scattered on the road. The boys stayed very close beside me. The officer asked me, urged me a few times to go to the ambulance to see my husband and son. So we got back in the van and drove to the restaurant parking lot on the other side of the street.

I vividly remember my thoughts during the previous scene. As I was trying to process the wreck, I was worried about how my actions would affect C and S. I was in mother mode. It was important to show them how to properly handle oneself in this situation. I had to be strong and level-headed to demonstrate responsible adult behavior in a crisis. Fucked up, I know. But whatever.

We got to the ambulance, I walked up to the back and the paramedics told me to get in and see my guys. I glanced very quickly at Superman, lying on a gurney on the left. I was checking for gushing bleeders, protruding bones, that sort of thing. The moment my head appeared in his field of vision, poor little Sproing reached out his arms and cried "Mommy!" He was lying on …something… on the right side of the vehicle. He was strapped to a backboard, his head immobilized in the soft helmet thing. I rushed right to him and held him as best I could. In their presence I was cool as a cucumber. I could tell right away that Superman was initially fine. I was aware that Sproing wasn't seriously injured as well. I held the boy for a moment. He cried. I soothed. I noticed that his shoe was perched atop his toes, not entirely on his foot. I lifted his shoe and asked him to wiggle his toes for me. He did. I might have had him move his arms again, I forget. I told him that he would be fine. I said the ambulance would take them to the hospital and I would be right behind them. I gave Superman a kiss and got out of the ambulance.

I was a bit calmer after seeing them. I was concerned about Superman because he has some problems with his back. He has a ruptured disk in his spine. He's a tall drink of water and back trouble runs in his family. But he was lucid and witty and I knew he'd live. I was OK to drive to the hospital, which I did.

We got there and we went in to see them. C and S walked beside me, holding me up every step of the way. Sproing had already been checked over by the time we got to there. He was fine. Not a scratch on the body. (He's had some emotional after-affects, though.) Somehow I arranged for a ride home for him. I don't even remember. Someone came and took him home.

The doctors wanted to run some more tests on Superman, so he stayed there another couple of hours. C and S and I stayed with him the whole time. I think C and S were afraid to leave me alone. S had called his mom to tell her everything, and she'd agreed to let him stay with us as long as necessary. He lived about 5 blocks from the hospital anyway, so he was within walking distance of home.

The immediate crisis was over and we all started to feel a bit more relaxed. So C and S began to do what comes natural to young lovers. Right there in the ER they started hugging and kissing. We were not in a closed off exam/treatment room. We were in a quite public area with nothing but a curtain available for privacy. But the curtain was open, I guess to let the nurses keep an eye on the patient. Anyway, the PDA was not well received. Things were kind of tense, and I was too emotionally and mentally distracted to handle the boys. Nothing really bad happened, but in my memory of the whole thing I'm pissed off at them for doing that. Water under the bridge.

Superman was discharged, we got S to his house and went home. Early the next morning I called my boss and told him I was unable to come in that day, explaining the situation. Sproing went to school that morning at his request, but we told him if he started feeling bad to go to the office and call us. When I took him to school I went in to tell the principal and office staff (including the school nurse) and his teacher all about the wreck. There was a picture on the front page of the local paper showing the truck upturned, wheels akimbo. The caption identified the truck's owner and driver at the time of the crash, none other than our Superman. Most of the school had seen the paper by the time I got there with Sproing so they already knew the news. We just filled in information.

I expected Superman to be very sore, but he was annoyingly chipper and spry. I was a total basket case. My nerves were shot to hell and back. We had to run a bunch of post-wreck errands; a trip to the insurance office, a check up with our family physician. Sproing called mid-morning and I picked him up from school. The whole day I was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

The following day I went to work. I felt a bit better. Superman was sore all over. This gave me great comfort. He was supposed to be sore. I was afraid something was wrong when he felt great the day after the wreck. He was off work for a few more days. I don't recall if he went in to work at all that week.

We were down to one car and 4 drivers (me, Superman, Light, and C) and people going in all directions. It was a pain. Shortly after that I bought my wonderful truck, Manny. That helped a lot, except that no one else knows how to drive Manny. Superman can do it; he knows how to drive a stick shift. But Manny doesn't work well for him. There are certain nuances of that truck that Superman just doesn't get. We also got a small old Nissan Maxima that I hated but everyone else liked. C wrecked it twice. Nothing serious, but a couple of fender-benders. Annoying, mostly. Transportation is always an issue around here.

So life resumed. Stressful and busy, things to do, people to take care of. Superman and Sproing recovered quickly. I went back to my daily routine, and life got back to our version of normal. But was I really alright?

What’s going on here, Java?

We are rapidly approaching the end of our spring break here in this school district. School resumes on Monday. Since I work in Pupil Transportation I will go back to work on Monday.

Except I won't, because I'm having a spot of vertigo. Well, it's more like a large smear of vertigo. For a spot of vertigo I wouldn't change my plans. When the vertigo colors outside the lines and gets rude, I need to curtail my activities. I'm having a lot of dizzy spells that almost send me to the floor. It is of course worse when I change the position of my head rapidly, bend over, stand up, or turn around. All of the aforementioned movements are major components of my job. If I get dizzy while driving a multi-ton bus through the busy streets of this city, it could be bad. So I won't be driving the school bus at all next week on orders from my doctor.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. And let me tell you why. I have wanted to talk to you about this all week, but haven't had the peace and quiet to write.

I have decided to quit my job.

This year was going to be my last year driving the bus; I decided that a while ago. But my intention was to work out the rest of the year. For the past few weeks, though, I've been getting more and more stressed, less and less able to fully function. I am constantly bombarded with demands for my time and energy. Yeah, I know, welcome to the real world, baby. But I am not entirely well.

I have some options and opportunities not afforded to some. My dear husband has a very good job and makes a decent salary. We are used to my income, too, but we can, I think, live without it. It isn't very much, anyway! Our money management skills need some work, that is a weakness Superman and I share. With some discipline and organization I'm sure we can manage without my measly paycheck. Of course if I'm not working every afternoon we don't need to put the young'uns in childcare. That's a big savings right off the top.

My life has undergone some big changes over the last 2 years. My sanity's only so-so. (Extra bonus points if you can name that reference!) I feel as though there are more big changes in the near future. More about that in a moment. My mind, my soul need the quiet opportunity to process these changes and to prepare for the future. This cannot be accomplished with the current level of demand on my time and energy. This week with everyone out of school I realized that I can't concentrate with the young'uns running in and out, asking questions and making demands all the time. So I decided to tender my resignation, giving two weeks notice on Monday. Now that I can't work all next week, this shakes it up a bit. I think I will still resign on Monday anyway, and maybe not be able to work out my notice.

Am I trying to explain or to convince myself?

The bus driving job has always been a temporary station in my overall career path. I never expected it to last this long, honestly. I have learned a great deal about a lot of things over the past almost 4 years, most notably about myself. I don't regret one moment of it.

But be honest with me, people, do I seem smart enough to do something more with my life than drive a school bus? I realize I have made a positive impact on a lot of people during my time on the bus. I'm glad for that. Can I make a bigger difference in another venue? One that utilizes my skills, abilities, and intelligence better than driving a bus? Probably. Lord I hope so!

Some of my depression might come from my over-qualification for this job. I try so hard to look for positives. I make excuses for my lack of mental stimulation. This happens subconsciously. I find myself lowering my expectations so that I'm not so frustratingly disappointed. And we wonder why I'm depressed! There are many good reasons to get out of this job. The approaching hot season is another one. Not as intellectual, more physical, but honestly folks, I have a really hard time handling the heat. These buses are not air conditioned, and it gets very hot in there when the temps rise above 80F. (I'm a weather wuss.)

Here's more about these big changes ahead. Right now I don't know exactly where I'm going. I have a burning desire to work directly with the homosexual community to enact change, to render aid, to provide support and education. That's a pretty vague mission statement, you know? I don't know how this will work out, but I am heading in that direction. For this I need to prepare. I need to set my mind toward the task. I need (want) more formal education. I need to find out what more I need!

This is going to require a lot of emotional growth from me. That's hard. I've been stuck in the backwaters of adulthood for 20 years. My recent blogging experience has been the first significant intellectually stimulating interaction with live adult people that I've had in a very long time. (Present spouse excepted) There are some issues for me to work on. I need to get comfortable being around groups of people again. Gotta fight the agoraphobia. I should learn how to behave myself in polite company. Those skills will serve me well. I have a lot of unrealized potential. So much so that I don't realize how much potential I have.

Am I justified in quitting my job right now? Am I being irresponsible in my obligations? Or am I being wise in managing my mental/emotional resources? Discuss.

Friday report

A topical approach

Dizzy

I saw the doctor yesterday about my latest episodes of the dizzies. A couple of months ago I was very dizzy, and that was caused by low blood pressure. I needed an adjustment in my blood pressure meds. It is different this time. I was hoping I'd get to go off the blood pressure meds all together, but such is not the case. This time I have a wicked case of vertigo. It's a good thing I'm not prone to motion sickness, as vertigo can cause nausea in those so afflicted.

I've had vertigo before, but not this bad. I'm frequently a little dizzy, and many of the meds I take can cause dizziness. This time it is knocking me flat! I turn over in bed and feel like I'm about to fall on the floor. I have to hold onto the walls and furniture when I move around the house. It comes and goes, waxes and wanes, but doesn't leave completely. For instance, when I got up this morning (after experiencing the radical turn over shift) I was pretty functional. Right now sitting on the bed with my computer in my lap I feel very dizzy. I just got up to use the bathroom, and woosh! Hang on!

I asked the doctor about driving. It seems a bit dangerous for me to be driving just now. He agreed. Actually, when I mentioned it he looked at me like I was nuts to consider that he'd even allow me to drive! Or that I would consider doing it. Of course I had driven myself to the office, and drove myself home, but haven't been behind the wheel since.

As you know, my job is driving. (Driving me nuts, but that's a topic for later.) The doctor wrote a note for work excusing me from work all next week. This week has been our spring break. So next week is my extended spring break. Pretty cool, no? Of course I can't GO anywhere. Whatever.

Who's in the house

This evening has been chaotic. Last night Sproing spent the night with one of his friends, and he's been gone all day. The day was unusually quiet. He still isn't home yet. However, Diva has a friend spending the night here tonight, and said friend is here. Light got home from college this afternoon for the start of her week of spring break. No, she's not a girl going wild on the beaches in Florida. She's home, going to be ferrying me around as I need it, looking for a summer job, and starting a garden in the back yard. Those are her plans. She's a smart, sensible girl. Just like her mother. (HA!)

Twitch is here, chattering as usual. Superman got home a while ago and has been plagued by requests for attention ever since. C is at work tonight, and S is being company for the rest of us. He also cooked a very nice dinner. And I'm looking for some peace and quiet. Again, HA!

Therapy

I went to therapy again today. Superman had to transport me. The therapist and I had a lovely chat over tea. I honestly can't remember a whole lot that we talked about. She gave me homework. I'm to come up with a list of fun, interesting, and/or distracting things I can do to occupy my brain when it starts telling me those bad things. You know the ones; I'm no good, I'm not worthy… that kind of crap. Like Wednesday when the negative voice was loud and I was not having much success doing the positive self talk over it.

So what are some positive activities I enjoy that can take my mind away from the negative? Let's discuss. One thing I like is to listen to my MP3 (it isn't an iPod, so I don't call it an iPod) player; classical music, Baroque stuff, some Beethoven occasionally, Vivaldi strings, Saint-Saens (Symphony #3 is glorious, especially the 4^th movement).

Manny, my wonderful truck, is really fun to drive through the countryside. I have to function on a higher level than I was Wednesday, though, in order to drive. One must be prepared for unforeseen eventualities. Wednesday was too much of a clusterfuck for that.

Another thing that brings me peace is drawing floor plans and house designs. Sometimes that is a wonderful outlet for me. Other times it is just frustrating.

Probably the best thing I can do is get lost in a good book. When the planets align I can do that. I must have enough function to concentrate on the written word, and occasionally even that is too much for me.

OK, I did my homework. Thank you for sitting so nicely while I got through that. If you have any other suggestions I welcome your input.

Dinner With a Movie Star

It's all Doug's fault. But I love him anyway. :-)
1. Pick a single person past or present who works in the film industry you would like to have dinner with. And tell us why you chose this person.
Jimmy Stewart! Why? Because I love the sound of his voice, I like so many of the movies he made, I've heard great things about his personal character.

2. Set the table for your dinner. What would you eat? Would it be in a home or at a restaurant? And what would you wear? Feel free to elaborate on the details.
Dinner, huh? I'm not good at that kind of thing. It would definitely be out, not in my home. That would scare him away immediately! We'd go to a quiet little restaurant with good food and reasonable sized servings (not too much, not too little). I'd wear clothes, definitely. That's about as much detail as I can muster for this question.

3. List five thoughtful questions you would ask this person during dinner.
What was it like working with Frank Capra?
How did you maintain your moral standards while living and working in Hollywood?
What are some of your favorite experiences from your career?
What was it like in the war? Tell me about your experiences in the armed service.
What would you do differently if you had a chance to go back?
How would you do in today's Hollywood scene?
Will you please talk to me some more? Because I love to hear your voice! (OK, that one isn't a thoughtful question, but I'd ask it, theoretically)

4. When all is said and done, select six bloggers to pass this Meme along to.
Nah, don't want to put anyone on the spot. However, if this looks like one you'd like to do, please take it and run with it!

5. Link back to Lazy Eye Theatre, so people know the mastermind behind this Meme.
(Whatever. Here it is folks, just following directions.)

Women over 40- Andy Rooney

60 Minutes Correspondent Andy Rooney (CBS)
As I grow in age, I value women over 40 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:
A woman over 40 will never wake you in the middle of the night and ask, 'What are you thinking?' She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 40 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do, and it's usually more interesting.

Women over 40 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated. Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. Once you get past a wrinkle two, a woman over 40 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off you are a jerk if you are acting like one. You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her. Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed, hot woman over 40, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year old waitress.

Ladies, I apologize. For all those men who say, 'Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’ here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage. Why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage!

Barely keeping it together

3:00 Wednesday afternoon

Bad day. Don't know why. Lots of cleaning going on in the rest of the house. Should be a good thing. And really, it is. But for some reason I'm not handling it well. The other members of the household seem to be adjusting very well. I think everyone else feels more comfortable with less chaos. I really like that my kitchen is clean. But I am so incredibly uneasy about something.

I tried to put a load of laundry in the washer. It's a mess in there, and I put a little bit of order to it Sunday, but the good that I did was undone. The hamper I filled with a load of darks was knocked over, the clothes falling out of it. I also put together a hamper of towels to bleach. It had un-bleachable things stuffed in it. The level of dirty clothes on the floor is up to mid calf again. I had it down to ankle deep, with spots of floor showing in one or two places. I completely freaked out about 3 minutes after going in there this afternoon. I started screaming at everyone.

I bought myself some milk yesterday. A small quart jug of skim milk. No one else in the house likes skim, and we never have anything as small as a quart in the fridge. I was able to have a bowl of cereal this morning. But when I came in from my therapy appointment an hour ago my little quart jug was sitting empty on the table. It is incredible how upset that makes me.

What in the hell is wrong with me???? Little shit like this, stuff that is, yes, annoying, is sending me over the brink. This stuff is annoying, but not that tragic. I ran into my bedroom, locked the door, and cried for 15 minutes.

Yes, I had therapy today. All went well. But I come home and go to pieces. I'm not handling things well.

And I'm very dizzy again. I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow afternoon. When I'm so dizzy it is hard to concentrate on anything.

10:00 Wednesday evening

Am I doing any better? I don't know. I'm not freaking out quite as actively as before, but I've been hiding in my room most of the day since I wrote the earlier bit. I went to the kitchen to have dinner with the family. I stayed long enough to eat, but came back to my hiding place as soon as I could.

Superman bought me another small jug of milk. I think this time everyone knows it is MOMMY'S milk, leave it the hell alone. He also bought a big jug for everyone else. I have high hopes.

Why do these little things bother me so much?

I don't even want to think about it anymore. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. I am going to survive this day. Look, it is almost over anyway. Tomorrow I will tackle a new day. Maybe I will be stronger.

Reconciliation

This is a follow up to this post, in which I document an incident where I defended my family, such as it is. If you recall, there was a 13 year old boy who said some disparaging things about my gay boys. I told him there is nothing wrong with being gay, but it is very wrong to insult anyone the way he did. I forbade the children from playing with him anymore.

Sproing really enjoys playing with this child. He lives in the house directly behind us and is hard to avoid. The boy also lets Sproing play with his video gaming system. Because I am such a mean mommy, I don't allow our children to have a video gaming system. Thus, Sproing has been strongly motivated to seek some reconciliation.

I told Sproing that if this young man, let's call him Adam, would come and apologize for his behavior, I would consider letting them play together again. Last Thursday Adam came over to talk to me. We sat in the back yard together on the picnic table and he gave me a very articulate apology. Then we had a chat. I talked to him for probably 10 minutes. We discussed homosexuality; I told him some of what I know about it, that it isn't a choice. I explained that gay people are just as normal as straight people. Whether they are gay or not there will be some people he likes, some people he's not particularly fond of. Sexual orientation has nothing to do with it. So he needs to give everyone a chance, get to know people as individuals and not pre-judge them on the basis of their sexual orientation, or anything else for that matter!

And so I gave permission for the children to play together again. They have been playing very nicely ever since. When C and S first saw him playing with the kids, each of them came to me all concerned. I explained. S was skeptical. C gave me "that look." I told them to wait and see, give the boy a chance.

This evening, after supper, Superman, S, and the kids played a game. Adam came over and joined in. I had to show you this. It is truly beautiful. This picture shows, from the left, S sitting on the floor, wearing his striped toque. Diva is next, rolling the dice on her way to winning the game. On the far right is Superman in all his balding glory, and there, between Superman and Diva sits Adam, participating in the game. Yes, S and Adam are playing a game together in our living room. Is this not the most beautiful sight? It fills my heart with joy.

On the other hand, I see in this photo 3 unfinished projects: the wall, the sofa, and the coffee table. If we're not counting the floor, where the carpet needs to be removed and new flooring installed. But that project hasn't been started, so we won't count it. Nah, lets just focus on the positive. They family is playing together beautifully! We are happy.

A brief history of my last 20 years book seven

How we got here

Why we got here

What we're doing here

Book seven

Now that C lives with us the house is even more crowded. After a week or two we started feeling the squeeze. There were no major blow-ups, nothing really bad happened. Everyone just got irritable.

C was suffering through a traumatic time in his life. He was still trying to get comfortable with the idea of being gay. He knew he couldn't deny it, but he was still working on accepting and embracing it. His years in the church made that more difficult.

His circle of friends was changing, as many of his old friends rejected him now that he was out. Of course having his mother reject him to the extent she did was very traumatic. He was living in a new home with lots of people in it. This home was very different from the one he'd been in. C is an only child, now suddenly he has 4 other "siblings" to deal with. Light has always been the oldest, now she has an older "brother." Light and C had been friends for a couple of years, but the friendship suffered for a while. They have since reconciled and are very close again, but it took at least a year to get that far. Light moving out of the house and into a dorm has helped, as has 2 more years of maturity for both of them.

C needed a lot of attention. He was uncomfortable with Superman, never having had a positive relationship with an adult male. I was extremely curious about what "gay" really is and had lots of questions for him. So we talked. A lot. Many times. Hours on end. And I still had to get up at 4:30 to drive the bus. I was very tired.

C and I spent so much time together that I didn't have much time to spend on anyone else in the family. I made sure to spend good quality alone time with Superman, and I hope it was enough. We are still happily married so I assume I did OK. The other kids were feeling pretty needy, and jealous of the time I spent with my "new baby." I was being pulled in lots of directions, and it was all very draining. I didn't mind. It was a labor of love, and I benefited greatly as well. That doesn't erase the fact that I was emotionally drained.

One of the issues that concerned me about C was his growing relationship with S. I thought the two of them were adorable and I encouraged them toward a healthy relationship. You know what it's like to fall in love. They were dreamy, distracted, and couldn't get enough of each other. As I said, adorable. However, they weren't always alone or in a private place when they were together. There was much public display of affection. Y'all, this is a small southern town. It is the 21^st century, but early yet. Greenwood isn't ready to see two boys hugging and kissing all over each other. Both of them were at the stage where they didn't care what others thought and wanted to prove a point, to teach tolerance through over exposure or something. I don't know. When the three of us were out together, I walked between them a lot. My warnings fell on deaf ears. Thankfully there were no major incidents.

Almost. There is now a court order preventing C from ever stepping foot on the campus of our county vocational school. S was taking a class there and C would drive him over. They sat in the car, spending as much time together as possible before S had to go to class. The deputy who is the school's resource officer saw some PDA and took out a warrant on C. She claims she saw a sex act. The boys swear they were just kissing. She's a bitch of the first order anyway, and neither of them is enrolled in the public schools now.

Speaking of sex, they needed to do that safely, too. I'm not referring to using protection, though I did encourage that strongly. They needed a safe place where they could be free to express their love intimately. (Sounds so flowery when I say it like that. Hehehe) Before C moved to our house that had been a problem. I was so afraid they'd get caught and bad things would happen. S was only 16, and I was afraid C would end up on the sex offender list forever. Turns out the age of consent in South Carolina is 16, but I still wasn't sure but what some homophobic lawyer or judge would find a way to make that charge stick. This is all worst case scenario stuff, but it's what mothers do.

So we discussed sex, specifically where and when. Not what or how, please! I wasn't ready for that information! With only a little bit of discomfort, I told them that our house, specifically C's room with the door locked was a safe place.

I was still a bit uncomfortable with the whole sex thing. It wasn't necessarily the homosexual part, but the idea that two unmarried young people were sexually active, and in my own house! It's a religious thing. I've been a fundamental Christian for over 20 years, y'all. These issues of faith don't change overnight. When I considered that the boys couldn't get married, that helped ease my conscience a little bit.

And I knew they were going to be intimate whether I liked it or not. I figured the best thing I could do in this situation was keep them as safe as possible. So we bought a keyed doorknob for their room to keep things secure and private.

Diva and Sproing presented another sticky issue. They were 8 years old and in the second grade. This had its problems and benefits. It's good for them to learn at such a young age that homosexuality is normal and nothing to get all crazy about. Considering that this attitude toward homosexuality is rare in our culture today, it was tricky getting them to know what to say and what not to say, whom to tell and who not to tell. Children talk without benefit of a filter for appropriate information. I told their teachers about the situation at home. I figured forewarned is forearmed. Both the teachers seemed pretty cool with everything.

Then there was the issue of TMI for the kids. I frequently had to remind C and S that there are things you don't do or say around young children. This continues to be an issue, though not as much as before.

C was living here, but S was still living at his mother's house. He spent a lot of time here, but usually went home in the evenings. Sometimes he would stay overnight. I don't recall there being any problems, though Light is better at remembering these details. C and I still talked. S and I talked a little bit, but he still didn't feel as comfortable opening up to me. He's not as forthcoming as C is anyway. He's had a tough life, and it has been hard for him to trust. I don't think he's seen a relationship last very long. Both his parents go through relationships in a most unhealthy way, IMHO. With the exception of his grandparents, I'm not sure anyone in his immediate family has stayed in a relationship as long as he and C have now. S has matured a lot in the last two years.

Coming soon in book eight: Even more stress, and its effect on my mental/emotional health.

a word, a quote, for your consideration

karuna (KUH-roo-na) noun
Loving compassion.
[From Sanskrit karuna (compassion).]
"Once we experience and feel this inter-dependence of all living beings, we will cease to hurt, humiliate, exploit and kill another. We will want to free all sentient beings from suffering. This is karuna, compassion, which in turn gives rise to the responsibility to create happiness and its causes for all." Suresh Jindal; Interdependence of All Living Beings; The Times of India (New Delhi); Nov 13, 2003.

When I do good, I feel good; when I do bad, I feel bad. That's my religion.-Abraham Lincoln, 16th president of the U.S. (1809-1865)

from A Word A Day, 21March 2008

I can relate to the word "karuna." I think it is one of my characteristics.

A brief history of my last 20 years book six

How we got here

Why we got here

What we're doing here

Book six

From the last episode:

One student on my bus was a very attractive tall but slight boy with long hair and penetrating green eyes. His name was S. … One day as the senior prom was approaching I heard him tell the girl in the next seat that he wanted to wear a dress to the prom; a green one that would set off his eyes. I had my suspicions. J … He had been in some trouble and was now one of "the usual suspects" with the administration at school. I thought he was adorable.

One of [Light's] friends was a [17 year old] young man named C. …he was gay. … He got a lot of flack from most of the kids in the [church] youth group and a big dump of grief from the youth group leader. Many of the kids at school only spoke to him to condemn him. … Though I didn't understand it very well, I wasn't willing to hate him for being gay. … He was out to most everyone else, he knew his mom would find out soon from someone at church, so he took a deep breath and shook up his mama's world.

Coming out to Mom didn't go well. She cried. He was breaking her heart. I'm sure this is very painfully familiar to many of you, my beloved readers. It pains me greatly that this is so. More than this I cannot say.

C pleaded with his mother not to tell his step-father. The relationship between C and his step-father was very tense, and had been for the 10 years they'd lived together. Unfortunately Mom did not honor his wishes.

When the step-dad heard the news, he told C that he had 30 days to get out of the house. Mom did not come to C's defense. (the bitch) After about 2 weeks she did give him some conditions under which he could stay. These included not going anywhere for any reason at any time other than school, work, or church (of course). He was not allowed to see any of his friends, talk on the phone to anyone, or use the computer, if I recall. C didn't like these terms. (duh)
Part of the reason for all these restrictions is that C had "met someone." Oh, boy.
Back to that in a minute.

It was around the time he came out to his mother that I became a part of C's life. Light had kept me abreast of the situation and I was distressed at his mom's response. Remember that I still thought homosexuality was a choice, and a bad one. But damn, woman, don't disown the boy! I was very concerned about C and was keeping Superman updated on the story as well. Because of the me who I am, I of course thought to offer him a place here. Superman and I discussed the theoretical possibility. There were lots of reasons not to take him in. We were a family of 6 living in a house that was too small for all of us. Finances were (are, always have been, might always be) tight. There were a lot of things going on in our lives taking a lot of energy and to take on another responsibility like this was going to take a LOT more energy. So of course I was all for it. That's the me who I am. But it was all still theoretical.

I told Light to bring the boy around. I wanted to talk to him. She knows what I am about and knew I only had the best in mind for him. I have no idea what she said to him, or how he felt about coming to talk to me. I really don't remember a lot of detail, or even the specifics of our first talk.

I remember the first time I actually interacted with him on a meaningful level. Light was at church and needed a ride home, so I went to pick her up. I parked in the lot right beside C's truck (I knew his truck. Can't remember how I knew it. Could just be a Java-truck thing.) Light came out to the van, and C was close behind her. He came over to my window as I was sitting in the van and I gave a very friendly greeting, and offered a hug. I hugged him and he just melted in my arms. (He's very snuggly anyway!) He buried his face in my shoulder and hugged me so completely. It was kind of strange, since neither of us knew each other except by reputation. But I knew the poor fella' was lacking some maternal loving, and it was so obvious from that hug that he needed it!

I begin to get to know C. I was still hesitant, then confused about whether homosexuality is "right." He was/is obviously a very nice, loving, sincere, sensitive young man. Even if he is gay! And I really like him. How can God create this wonderful person, only to condemn him? That made no sense. It was this confusion that led to research that led to a complete turn-around in my belief about the acceptability of homosexuality.

So now I know C. I was beginning to accept the whole gay thing. And I have figured out that S is gay. (Can you say "DUH?") Hmmm. C doesn't really know anybody else who is openly gay, as far as I know. He needs some support and encouragement from others going through the same crap he is. Wouldn't it be interesting for C and S to meet?

I was in the early stages of this thought stream when one afternoon on the bus I heard S behind me talking to another girl, telling her this story about meeting a boy at the library. It was an interesting story, and I jumped into the conversation with a comment or question. I don't remember what all was said, but I recall S was excited in his understated way about this interesting encounter. I pondered these things in my heart.

It was either that night or the next that I overheard Light telling her dad about C having had an encounter with a very interesting boy at the library. Ding Ding Ding! I asked her for specifics. C obviously was excited about meeting this boy. Light told me how C had been at the library to research how to start a Gay Straight Alliance (GSA) at the high school. He was back in the stacks looking for a book. He and this other young man were looking for the same book. They reached for the book at the same time. Their eyes met, sparkling, and a thrill of electricity rushed through him as their hands touched. … Well, no, it didn't happen that way, and that's not what Light told me. But it sounds good, doesn't it? They did meet each other while looking for the same book. She was giddy about C meeting another boy, though, and told me the boys talked for a long time that day. I asked her if she knew this other boy's name. Yes, she said, it's S____.

HA! I hooted, and told her the other half of the story. We loved it! Superman got the full story and he was excited, too.

The boys exchanged phone numbers, and over the next week or so got together a couple of times. Acquaintance soon turned to friendship which soon turned to infatuation. I suspect this change took place very quickly. Half an hour, maybe? ;-)

Back in mother's little world, she realized C had met someone. This is when the severe restrictions took effect. At one point in there she took him to a "Christian" counselor to try reparative therapy. He refused to cooperate. Good for him!

C also refused to abide by his mother's rules. He began to pack his things, but had no idea where he would go. I hadn't heard anything from him, and neither had Light, for a couple of days. I told her if he should call her, to tell me right away and let me talk to him. One Saturday he had left his house to search for packing boxes. He called Light while he was out, and she brought her phone to me. I asked a few questions, got the scoop on what was going on, and told him to come over to our house right away because we needed to talk. He hesitated, because his mom would blow a fuse. I said this was bigger than her anger, and I'd help him deal with that. So he came over.

The previous day I had suffered a terrible bout of the stomach bug. Saturday I was feeling not-so-sick, but completely wasted. I was in bed, trying to rest. C came over and sat at the foot of my bed and we talked for at least 3 hours. I know his mom had to be having a conniption fit. That was the first day, I think, that he and I really connected. He talked about everything, I asked questions, he cried a lot.

Superman was out somewhere that day. He might have had to work, I don't remember. He came home at around 3 in the afternoon, after C and I had been talking for hours. I sent C out of the room so I could talk to Superman. I gave him the scoop, and asked about C moving in with us. We discussed it briefly, but he knew that I really wanted (maybe needed?) for C to live here. And C needed it, for sure! Superman's heart was right there, too. He was a bit more concerned with the practical aspects, like where C would actually sleep, how we'd afford to feed him, that kind of thing. I wasn't worried about it at all, because I know these things always take care of themselves. It all works out. We adjust. (Perhaps they work out because Superman makes it so while I blithely ignore those details.)

Our discussion didn't last very long at all. I think it was less than 15 minutes when I called C back into the room and we asked him if he'd like to move in with us. I don't even remember the reaction, but the answer was yes.

Superman and Light took our van and followed him home. C parked his truck (actually his step-dad's), never to drive it again. He didn't like that truck anyway. We had gotten some more packing boxes down from our attic, and Light and C finished packing his stuff. They carried it all out to the van. If I remember correctly, Superman stood and talked with the step-dad the whole time. Step-dad spent the entire time telling Superman what a horrible mess we were getting into, how C was such a problem. Superman later told me that step-dad was a real dumbass. Yeah, that had previously been established.

So C moved in with us. I don't remember exactly where we put him. I think he took over Sproing's room and Sproing moved back in with Diva. They've been sharing a room since they were very young. The short time they had their own rooms they'd end up with one of them in a sleeping bag on the floor of the other's room. I didn't feel too bad about putting them back together.

Adding another person to a household means lots of adjustment. The house was more crowded, but it was mostly a very happy place. We all enjoyed a honeymoon period when the excitement and novelty kept us from getting on each other's nerves.

Stay tuned for book seven (hopefully to be posted a lot sooner than this one was!) in which the honeymoon wears off and the family feels the growing pains.

Pretty thoughts

I want to tell you about an interesting positive experience I had this morning. On Thursday mornings I drive a few of the special ed students to the vocational school where they get their hair done by the cosmetology students. I got to the high school a little bit early and went in to use the bathroom. (Two cups of coffee, then 2.5 hours on the bus first thing in the morning, and I'm heading to the bathroom!) As I washed my hands I looked at myself in the mirror. I usually don't pay attention to my reflection. Today I looked. I really like my eyes. Recently I've been wearing my contacts instead of the glasses, so my eyes aren't hidden behind thick lenses. I looked at my eyes, then the rest of my face and my hair. I've mentioned before that I have good hair. My face is pudgy, of course. One doesn't carry this much weight without it being well distributed throughout the body. As I looked at my face I realized that there is a pretty woman hiding in there. The fat conceals some of it (IMHO) but there is a hint of pretty. This is the first time I've considered myself anywhere near pretty in a long, long time. This is probably good progress.

But that's only the beginning of it. As I walked out of the bathroom one of the ladies who works in the office there at the high school came up to me and said "I just wanted to tell you how pretty you are." OK, kinda freaky, coming as it did 15 seconds after saying that to myself! She has seen me there at the school interacting with the students in that special ed class. She told me that I have something like an aura of beauty, specifically when I'm working with the students. Of course that's when she sees me. I told her I really love those kids, they are special in many ways. I guess it shows.
So today I have been pondering pretty thoughts in my heart.

I thought this would be more cheerful, but it turned out more depressing than anything

I mentioned a few days ago that I bought myself some new shampoo. It is "refreshing tangerine" shampoo. But it smells like peaches to me. That's alright, though, because I like the smell of peaches.

I have three new students on my bus this week. All of them are older boys who go to the alternative school in the behavioral program. I can't remember exactly what it's called, but you will all know exactly what I mean when I say they are in the last chance, bad boy program. (To be truthful there are a few girls in the program, but none of them ride my bus.) They are ...um... challenging. One of them is a boy I've had off and on for the past two, maybe three years. There isn't a lot of hope for this kid, I'm afraid. I HOPE he gets is act together, but it doesn't seem likely. A friend of mine, now a school teacher but who previously worked in the local women's prison, calls kids like this "Future Criminals of America." Sad. Sad because it is so often true.

These boys in the bad boy program only go to school two hours a day. They get out at 10:30, so I pick them up and take them out to the bottom of the county. This adds hours to my day, which means more money. But it fills my day, and breaks up my free time. I only have maybe an hour and a half between my on duty times. That isn't enough time for me to concentrate well enough to write, or think, or NAP!! I'd much rather have the time off than the money. But for right now I don't really have that choice.

Superman and I have been discussing things, and I've pretty much decided to quit driving the bus after this school year ends. I haven't told anyone I work with, and don't plan to. I'll let the boss know after school lets out for the summer, of course, but I'm not going to mention it to anyone before then.

I want to write a whole lot more about this, and about other thoughts that flow from this. But I just don't have the time to settle in and concentrate on it! It's 9:00 now, the kidlets finally went to bed and got quiet about 20 minutes ago. I need to be going to sleep right now! It is like this all day long. I'm very frustrated.

And I'm very tired. Tired in a few different ways. I'm tired of teenagers making promises to do things then leaving me in the lurch. (I'm pissed at S right now. Not going to go into it now. Don't have time or energy.)

I'm going to shut up now. The more I think, the things that come to mind that want to flow out of my fingers here are just getting more depressing. I'm tired of listening to myself whine about how confused and depressed I am.

art therapy

I may have mentioned I had a birthday party to attend last Saturday. The birthday girl's name is Elizabeth, and she is a student on my bus. I wanted to get her a little something. She's a silly thing, and likes to tease me by giving me incorrect information. She likes to tell me that her babysitter will not be at the house when we get there, or that her daddy is mad at me. All of this I know to be foolishness. So I tell her "Elizabeth, you are full of little red ants!" Which, of course, is nicer and more appropriate than saying she's full of shit, which she is. But I love her dearly.

Here I am working on the canvas bag I got for her. I'm using Sharpie markers.

Detail

Here's side one, a jar of little red ants.

And the other side has her name with a loose ant roaming along the Z.

I really enjoyed working on the bag. As unsettled as I was over the weekend, this little activity helped calm me down. I should do this sort of thing more often.

OK, back to business

Last night, after the situation with the neighbor kids and our family discussion, Sproing wrote a letter to his dad. I need to transcribe it for you, as it is a "must read." This is exactly how he wrote it:

[Sproing] My Story 3-17-08
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1.) Today my x (underlined 5 times) friends got into an arguement with my two gay step-brothers. I was mad at them I want to play (obnoxious 13 yr old)'s P.S.P., but I can't play or hang out with them anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2.) If I play with them and my mom cathes me I will get in big doo-doo. don't plan on going to go there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.) I wish I could sneek but my sister Is a tatle-teller, so NO!!! (underlined 3 times) I'm not going there ever again! to: DAD ---->

(on the back of the paper)

I'm FOR-REAL

This is evidence that we are doing something right, I think. I especially like how he refers to S and C as his gay step-brothers. (though that is not the accurate relationship)

This just in...

Evidently C and S had a lovely afternoon. And this is how I know.
It is bedtime for Diva and Sproing. Superman sent them into the bathroom to brush their teeth. From the bathroom we hear much giggling. Superman goes to check on them, and Sproing says "Look what Diva found!" There, nice and clean, on the edge of the bathtub sits a dong. Sproing says "It's a wanker!" then explodes in nervous giggles. Diva, I think for her father's benefit, says "It's gross!" But I know she was giggling just as enthusiastically as Sproing before Daddy walked in.
I must speak to the boys about cleaning up after themselves and putting their toys away.
My children are getting an invaluable education.

Successful end to an otherwise "less effective" weekend

First of all, I want to let you know that I have been working on book six. Life interfered tonight. You'll see what I mean in a minute.

This afternoon Superman and S took over the cleaning detail and got the rest of the family involved. Superman said that getting the young'uns to clean the living room was more difficult than herding cats. He would rather do it himself, but he put the kids to work on it.

S and Superman worked in the kitchen. They are doing a good bit of deep detailed work. To translate: it still looks bad in a lot of places, but a couple of parts are looking better than ever.

C did the hall bathroom. He wins the prize for succeeding against the grossest foe. It was truly nasty in there. It is still ugly, but it's clean. That bathroom needs a major re-do. At least it is clean now. I'm so pleased and proud.

And S made supper. He baked two chickens and fixed some veggies. It was quite good. He's been a busy boy today.

Here is where the day, and my attitude, shifted direction radically
The young kids had been working most of the afternoon, and wanted to go outside for a walk. That's what Sproing asked to do, anyway. He left out a few details, including that they were going to hang out with a few other kids from the neighborhood. These other kids are a few years older than Sproing and Diva, and not very nice. I didn't know anything about it.

About 7:00 the kids showed up and I told them they needed to stay home now, it was getting too late to be out. We didn't communicate well; I meant for them to come inside, they assumed they could play with the other kids in our yard. Somehow things turned ugly. One of the other boys started throwing rocks at C and S's window. S went outside to address the situation, and this one nasty hateful boy, probably 13 years old or so, got very ugly and said some insulting things referring to S and C's sexual orientation. S told him off, said to go away and never come back. By this time my young'uns were back inside and I made it clear they were to stay inside now.

Meanwhile, outside S was still trying to disperse the crowd. The other 3 children were standing with this outspoken homophobe, 2 of the three agreeing with him and adding their opinions. One little girl, much younger than the rest, didn't say anything. S came inside to tell me all about it. While he was talking to me we heard something else outside. He started toward the door and I got up and told him I needed to take care of it.

I went outside and called the children over to me in the driveway. At first they didn't move, so I made my statement again with a bit more emphasis. (Can't you see this playing out? I make it sound so sanitary the way I write it. It was kinda' ugly; not nice.) They began to approach the driveway as I continued toward them. We had a little discussion. I told them they were too old, except the little girl, to be hanging around with my children. Then I said "The people who live in my house are my family. All of them. And I love all of them as family. Yes, the boys are gay. There is nothing wrong with being gay. It is wrong, however, to treat people the way you did. It is wrong to say such ugly things to anyone. Ever. You will not be playing with my children anymore, and you are to stay away from this house." I said this firmly, with conviction, but I did not scream.

They stood there, looking at me with contemptuous looks on their faces. (except the youngest. She just stared at me as she had the whole time.) I said "Go on, get out of here; shoo." The mouthpiece of the group said something snarky about not being a fly, then they turned slowly around and very gradually made their way down the street. I stood in the driveway and watched as they slowly retreated.

I went back inside and we had a family pow-wow. Superman had to go into work this evening, but the rest of us were in the living room for a really good family discussion. I told Diva and Sproing that they are not to play with those kids anymore. We talked about persecution, being nice, respecting others, not allowing people to get away with saying such stuff, etc. I told them they could, if they felt comfortable about it, try to educate their friends about how homosexuality is normal and not an evil thing. Or they could not associate with people who persecuted others on any account, be it gay or racist or whatever.

We discussed our basic three rules. 1) Respect yourself, 2) Respect others, 3) Do the right thing. The young'uns get teased a lot because they are black and we are white. They get taunted because they live with "faggots." We talked about how that stuff is wrong, and we aren't to do it ourselves. I told them to have enough respect for themselves to not hang out with kids who do that sort of thing. Many times they, especially Diva, will hang around with kids who pay attention to them, but treat them badly. She seems so desperate to be liked, she's willing to sacrifice her self respect. (This came up in the psychological testing she had last year, too.)

The kids don't get along with each other. Any of them. (Well, except for C and S. They bicker some, but they get along with each other very well. But that's another thing entirely.) Sproing and Diva fight with each other, and are disrespectful and nasty to the older kids. Case in point, when Superman and I went out last night they called us repeatedly to tattle on each other. Oy. Twitch frequently treats the young ones badly. He cusses at them and gets physical when they don't do what he screamingly demands they do. And he doesn't understand why they don't respect him. Yes, I addressed that issue in front of the whole family. He "yes ma'am" 'd me. We shall see. Everyone needs to show A LOT more respect for everyone else!!!! Get a clue, y'all! I focused especially on Sproing and Diva taking direction from the older ones when mommy and daddy aren't available. They seem to think they can do whatever they want, say whatever they want to the others when we aren't here. It makes for a tense environment.

It was a good discussion. I didn't scream, no one argued, they asked a lot of questions which I addressed with respect. It was a very positive experience, all in all. I hope they feel that way, too. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, very cooperative, when we were finished. I told the young'uns to get ready for bed, and they got right to it without complaint.

I'm feeling good about this. I hope this sweetness and light attitude lasts a while. At least for a week. That'd be good.

Do Not Have Children - reason # 379

Twitch is 17. Diva is 10. Twitch outweighs Diva approximately 2:1. He is allegedly more mature than she is. She is immature for her age. Diva is a fairly typical prepubescent girl. She can do things that are generally annoying.

This morning I'm sitting on my bed reading the paper. Diva comes in to tell me about yet another fund raiser they are doing at school. Twitch comes in, stands about 4 feet from her. I don't even remember why he came to talk to me. She did some damned something to annoy him, most likely unintentionally (this time). He lifts his big booted foot and kicks her! Right here, beside my bed, with me watching!!!!! Oh. My. God! What the hell does he do when I'm not watching? (Don't even tell me, I don't really want to know.)

Superman and I get all over him, telling him It is WRONG to kick. Anybody! And he comes up with excuses like "but she is annoying! Sproing was hitting me, and being sassy." Pardon??? Sproing is being sassy and annoying, so you need to come kick Diva. There is NO WAY for that to make sense. There is no way for ANY excuse to make sense. It is just plain WRONG!!!

It is amazing how he kept trying to defend or excuse himself, and to redirect the conversation away from his responsibility onto the 10 yr. olds' responsibility. No, son, I am addressing you and your behavior now. This is not about them. This is ONLY about YOU! He loves for things to be only about him as long as it doesn't involve him getting into trouble.

I don't understand how the mind of a 17 year old boy works. I have my suspicions that it just plain DOESN'T work.

I'm not handling this well. I am in the midst of a minor breakdown right now anyway, and I can not handle this crap. I sent them all to church. Maybe they'll learn something, though I doubt it.

After they all left, S comes in, sits down on the bed beside me, and says "Well, now, let's start cleaning."

I threw him out. Should have thrown him out the window.

I've had a good cry now, and am on the verge of another one.

And how is your Sunday going?

Living in the maelstrom

Not doing well today. I think I'm feeling better then WHAM out of nowhere I'm not able to speak clearly, my hands are twitching, I feel the need to bang on something. (repetitive light pounding on some surface, or clapping my hands, or beating my head. Not to hurt, but to ... I don't even know. Maybe this is what Twitch feels like all the time. Poor guy!)

I'm getting teary for no apparent reason. Reading the words of encouragement in the comments on the previous blog ... gives me warm fuzzy feelings and makes me cry, but not really a good kind of cry. My sick "other brain" is giving me those "You are unworthy" messages agian. I recognize them for what they are. It's the illness talking. I'm not supposed to listen.

Let's try this: I know I am a worthy person. (But I don't know why, and truly, I don't believe that.) I have many fine qualities. (But I suck at so many things.) I can be very helpful and encouraging to other people. (I can't accept it for myself.) (No, overall I'm a failure. As C is trying to get me to say, I am "ineffective." That's the word I'm supposed to use instead of "failure.") (My life, it seems to be about 80% ineffective.)

I am sad. OK, more than sad. But for those of you who wonder about these things, No, I am not making plans. I'm not "there" right now at all. Don't worry about that. Yet. I'll mention it to someone if I start to go there. I know better.

Sorry to dump like this. Part of the reason this blog exists is to be honest and open about these feelings. As I try to heal. It might help. It doesn't feel very helpful right now. Having a bad day, nothing feels particularly helpful.

Superman and I are going out for a little walk. We're going to Lowes to look at bathroom sinks and tile. Our bathroom sink/faucet/pipes has/have sprung a leak somewhere. The whole assembly is old and nasty, so we're (he's) going to re-do it. I want this to happen. But today I don't know if I can make ANY decisions. I'm afraid the store might overwhelm me. Hell, sitting here on the bed still in my pj's is slightly overwhelming.

But I think I need to get out, to get dressed and move around a bit. We're going to try that. We are also going to try to drink some more water and eat a peanut butter sandwich. Maybe that will give the ol' body and brain a boost in blood sugar. I did have a good breakfast, good for me and especially good for Superman for fixing me eggs and bacon and toast. He's a super man. And he loves me all the time in spite of how I feel. I might be dead if not for him.

OK, here we go, on with the plan. I'll try to check in later. I'll also try to finish book six. It has been hanging over my head all week, and I REALLY want to get it posted!!! I just haven't had the time and/or energy to work on it. Very frustrating, I promise.

Late afternoon update:
Feeling a bit better now. I went all by myself to Wal-Mart. Had my MP3 stuck in my ears with Mountain Dulcimer music playing. That's how I was able to survive. Kept my blinders on, sort of. Got what I needed, except my prescription. Line was too long, couldn't do it.

Then I went to the fabric store to get a canvas bag. One of my students is celebrating her 18th birthday today, and I'm going to draw some little red ants on the bag and give that to her. She is silly, and often teases me with incorrect information. I tell her she is full of little red ants. So I'm giving her a canvas tote with little red ants on it. I need to draw the ants, because we leave for her party in about an hour.

Bad weather here today. I can hear the tornado warning siren wailing now. Overcast but still and dry just now, but an hour ago we had dark dark dark clouds, hail, strong wind, heavy rain. No swirly cloud, though, that we could see. I can hear thunder now.

I'm off to draw little red ants. Might update later, after the birthday party. I might even take pictures!

Late evening update:
I managed to survive the day. Superman and I went to the birthday party. It was loud, warm, crowded with people I mostly didn't know. I got a few pictures, though. I'll post them in a separate entry. We didn't stay at the party very long.

When we left the party Superman suggested going out someplace for desert and coffee, because neither of us wanted to go home. We got a few phone calls from the kids at home and ended up having to stop by the house to take care of some of that mess. It was a nasty bit of sibling rivalry, all of them being very ugly to each other, and it makes me sad to think about it so I'm not going to say anything more. Much, anyway.

Twitch is 17, Diva and Sproing are both 10. It seems to me, maybe I'm just naive, that the three of them could manage themselves without major trauma for 2 or 3 hours. Not today, anyway. It is such a drain on my personal emotional resources, this fighting, that it isn't worth the grief to go out for an evening alone with my husband. I don't need this crap.

Superman and I left home again after the kids were in bed, went to a local restaurant for dessert. It was nice enough. I was still disgusted about the kids. The dessert he ordered, a hot peach cobbler thing, was still frozen in the middle and was therefore kinda nasty. I had a good piece of cheesecake. We talked to the manager about the frozen hot cobbler, and ended up getting the whole tab erased. We tipped the waitress, 'cause she was a sweetheart, but aside from the tip, we had our dessert and coffee for no munny. The company was nice. He and I worked on a design I have in mind to make a tent in the back of the pick-up. That was the most fun part of the evening.

I'm home now, have had a shower and shampoo. (I bought some new shampoo today. It smells like tangerine. Why? I don't know. Do I like my hair to smell like tangerine? Well, that's a better smell than others I can contemplate.) I'm on the blogs, which is one of my happy places. So the evening is settling in nicely. I'm breathing, thinking sort of clearly, and not crying. Not a bad ending for a bad day. :-)

Stuff

I have a small gift for you. I've taken off the text verification for comments on my blog. I feel like the verification texts are taunting me. They are getting too long and too hard to read. With that many letters I'm even more likely to type in something wrong.

Had a rough day today. Saw my therapist this morning, and that was good. But we stirred up some hard stuff toward the end of the session, and things got kinda bad in my truck on the way home. Thankfully it isn't a far drive. I had to call in sick to work. I was in no shape to drive children around in a big school bus today. It was all emotionally exhausting. Any more I cannot say because I just don't know. I don't know what exactly is at the base of these anxiety attacks. I've got a couple of clues, but not a big picture. And right now I am just too tired. In a lot of ways.

I'm going to bed. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to work my brain again.

Circle of Happiness

Things that make me happy

Driving my truck, Manny

Blogging~ reading other blogs, commenting on other blogs, writing and posting on my blog

Sex

Learning new things, asking questions, finding answers

What makes Point & Shoot happy?

Miscellany

A worthy quote:
If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.-Desmond Tutu, clergyman (b. 1931)

There has been some discussion in the previous post about the term "bug ugly." I chose it for this application because I am intrigued by its assonance. Sometimes the term "butt ugly" is more appropriate, and there are other adjectival phrases concerning the designation "ugly" that one uses from time to time. In the case of this unfortunate vehicle, "bug ugly" seemed to be apt.

We had a terrible hormone storm last evening. The darling Diva, age 10, is starting to fall under the influence of puberty. The poor child (or rather, her poor parents) suffered utter despair because her daddy wouldn't help her bake a chocolate cake. Then she discovered a bag of her old dress-up play clothes I was throwing away and tried to sneak them back in the house. I saw her and directed her back outside with them. The world just about came to a stand-still. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. It matters not that she didn't take care of the dresses, left them on the floor to be stepped on or shoved under a bed. No, because "Light gave them to meee^eeee^ee." (^ = that sob-hiccup thing) When talking to Light later, she informed me that she'd already taken the dresses away from Diva for the exact same reason. I'm sure Diva remembers it quite differently. Throughout the evening much drama was endured by all. Superman let her fix a cherry cobbler he had planned to make for dessert, and that lifted her spirits considerably.

I am not looking forward to the next 6-8 years. At. All.

Coming soon, really, book six in my brief (HA!) history. I had a limited period of peace and quiet yesterday morning to either work on the history or check my blogs. I knew I'd have less restricted time later in the evening to do more. I chose to check blogs in the morning. The drama here last evening prevented any kind of contemplation (aside from infanticide) necessary to work on the history. So here we are, updateless.

The mood on the bus goes round and round

I'm getting used to having the monitor on the bus. He really is a friendly fellow. He talks about dirt track racing, and a lot about cars. The racing seems interesting. (I said this to Light earlier this evening, and she said "No, Mom!") But I especially enjoy the discussions about cars and trucks. He is a wealth of information at the very least. He's lived here all his life, knows a lot of people, knows history and reputation and other useful stuff.

Today we were discussing cars, used cars, buying cars, buying cheap cars, deciding what would be the most financially beneficial for an old clunker- stripping it down and making it into a race car, or buffing it up a bit and selling it as a cheap used car. Sometimes it's a tricky decision to make. I'd never thought about it before.

Twitch is 17. He still has a driving learner's permit that has now expired. He never asks to go out to practice driving. The only thing we have to drive now, anyway, is the full size van (very very large and hard to maneuver) or my beloved truck. Twitch despises my beloved truck. He also isn't keen on learning to drive on a standard transmission.

It would be extremely helpful if he had a car and a license and could drive himself to and from school, take his siblings to school in the morning, run errands for his darling mother, and have transportation to and from an eventual JOB!!! PLEASE!!! SOON!!! So I was discussing with my monitor the options for buying a cheap used car. He's got connections! He knows lots of stuff.

There is a car for sale now that he knows about. It is in excellent mechanical condition. This is like saying the blind date your cousin is setting up for you has a pleasant personality. Oh, yeah, it is bug ugly. We drove past it on the way back to the bus lot. The hood latch doesn't work, which the owner discovered after the hood flew up while she was driving down the highway. It flew open and hit the windshield, cracking the windshield badly. She should have suspected there might be a problem after she rammed the car into a tree in her yard, bending the front grill and hood area. But she remained clueless. The car needs window glass in one of the doors, too, because she did some dumbass thing to break that. There are a few other areas of body damage from various too-close encounters with stationary objects. (Not a good driver, methinks.) With a little bit of body work and some salvaged parts, this could be a very good (if ugly) car. And I think I can get it for under $300 if I move quickly.

My original purpose for this post was to say that I'm feeling better about having Mr. Monitor on the bus. But I seem to have gotten distracted. Oh, well. Par for the course.

Today's Delancey Place

I subscribe to a few daily email services of various types of information. Delancey Place is usually at least mildly interesting and sometimes fascinating. I thought today's entry was good, and want to share it with you. There is a link at the end to the Delancey Place home page, where you can find out more about it and subscribe if you'd like.

In today's excerpt--black and green tea:
"The earliest unambiguous reference to tea is from the first century BCE, some twenty-six centuries after Shen Nung's supposed discovery of tea. Having started out as an obscure medicinal and religious beverage, tea first seems to have become a domestic drink in China around this time. ...
"Tea is first mentioned [as an import from China] in European reports from the region in the 1550s. ... The first tea was green tea, the kind that had always been consumed by the Chinese. Black tea, which is made by allowing the newly picked green leaves to oxidize by leaving them overnight, only appeared during the Ming dynasty; its origins are a mystery. It came to be regarded by the Chinese as suitable only for consumption by foreigners and eventually dominated exports to Europe. Clueless as to the origins of tea, Europeans wrongly assumed green and black tea were two entirely different botanical species. ...
"Tea got its start [in England] when it became fashionable at the English court following the marriage in 1662 of Charles II to Catherine of Braganza, daughter of King John IV of Portugal. Her enormous dowry included the Portuguese trading posts of Tangier and Bombay, ... a fortune in gold, and a chest of tea. Catherine was a devoted tea drinker and brought the custom with her. ...
"It is not too much exaggeration to say that almost nobody in Britain drank tea at the beginning of the eighteenth century, and nearly everybody did at the end of it. Official imports grew from six tons in 1699 to eleven thousand tons a century later, and the price of a pound of tea was one-twentieth of the price at the beginning. ... [Consumption was actually greater than imports would indicate because of] the widespread practice of adulteration, the stretching of tea by mixing it with ash and willow leaves, sawdust, flowers, and more dubious substances--even sheep's dung, according to one account--often colored and disguised using chemical dyes. Tea was adulterated in one way or another at almost every stage along the chain from leaf to cup. ... Black tea became more popular, partly because it was more durable than green tea on long voyages, but also as a side effect of this adulteration. Many of the chemicals used to make fake green tea were poisonous, whereas black tea was safer, even when adulterated. As black tea started to displace the smoother, less bitter green tea, the addition of sugar and milk helped to make it more palatable."
Tom Standage, A History of the World in Six Glasses, Walker, Copyright 2005 by Tom Standage, pp. 178, 185-189.

To visit our homepage or sign up for our daily email click here.

What's happening on the bus

As most of you know I drive a special needs school bus. There are two students in wheelchairs on my roster, and about half a dozen other kids with varying degrees of learning disabilities and behavior problems. Most of the special needs buses in our district have another adult on the bus to assist with the students. They are called bus monitors.

No, not that kind of monitor!

For most of the school year last year I had an elderly gentleman as my bus monitor. He and I got along just fine when it was just the two of us on the bus. I did not like the way he dealt with the children, though, and he would get into a screaming match with me in front of the students if I suggested to him that he should ease up on the kids. He was ridiculously strict. He was a grumpy old man. He left the bus toward the end of the year, sometime in April I think. Things went so much better after he left. I began to enjoy my job once I was on the bus alone (well, me and the students, of course)



The boss has been making some noises recently about placing another monitor on my bus. He and I have discussed it a few times over the past two years. He knows my preference, but he also knows I am flexible. A couple of weeks ago he brought it up again, and I told him I was fine without a monitor, but if he wanted or needed to assign a monitor, then that's OK, too.



So he did. Last week I got a new monitor. He's a fella just a couple years older than me, who loves kids and has a very friendly disposition. He was driving a bus, but had some health issues come up in December and can't drive for a while. The boss wanted to give him some work, so I have a new monitor. I thought about mentioning it on here last week, but just didn't want to yet.



He is much nicer to work with than the old grump. He's pleasant. He likes to work and has been sweeping the bus out regularly, which is nice (and something I don't do as often as I should).



But frankly I'd rather be alone. This guy talks too much. And just today he was telling me about Valentimes Day and the heat that escapes from a chimbly. Ugh. I can be kind of a snob when it comes to English usage, and I try to be patient and not get upset. This guy is sitting in the seat right behind me chattering away about all manner of things. Using poor grammar and usage and pronunciation. And he misuses the word "which." Which if he says it once more, a small part of my brain will begin to deteriorate. Which he was telling me about some car problems he's having. Which which which. Which Witch? At least he doesn't have any speech impediments, like just about every kid on the bus does.

Last Friday I casually mentioned that I had a few friends that I've meet online, and it came up in the conversation that many (most) of you are gay. I didn't purposely bring it up, and I forget now what the context was. But I was thinking it might be time to spring the "gay thing" on him. He took it pretty well. He's a good ol' boy, likes to hunt, and races cars on a dirt track. I wasn't sure how he would react to the information that I am involved with homosexuals and gay rights and all.

Today it came up in the conversation that there are two young gay men living in our house. We were able to have a reasonable discussion about that. He admitted he feels uncomfortable around someone he knows is gay, but doesn't have any specific gripes against homosexuality in general. I was able to tell him a few things that the general homophobic community doesn't know, like it isn't a choice, and homosexuals have a lot more similarities than differences with the general population. And that most of the problems gays and lesbians face today are a direct result of homophobia. I feel it was a good conversation. I am satisfied that I've said my peace.

But I still wish I was alone on the bus.

South Carolina makes progress in LGBT Civil Rights

Shocking, I know

Good news out of Columbia, South Carolina!

Columbia SC Passes Trans Rights Bill
by 365Gay.com Newscenter Staff
Posted: March 5, 2008 - 5:00 pm ET
(Columbia, South Carolina) Columbia, South Carolina on Wednesday became the first municipality in the state to enact laws protecting gays and transgendereds.
City Council voted unanimously to pass the ordinances prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity in housing and public accommodations.
“We have passed one of the most comprehensive bills in the country, in one of the most conservative states in the country," said C. Ray Drew, Executive Director of South Carolina Equality, which pressed for the laws. "South Carolina, and states like ours, represents the front lines of our battle for LGBT civil rights in this country.”
The legislation was introduced by council members Daniel Rickenmann and Tameika Isaac Devine. It passed with little debate.
"When we work together and respect each other, we can make Columbia an even better place to live,” Rickenmann and Isaac Devine said in a statement following the vote.
Columbia now joins two other cities in the Deep South that have passed comprehensive anti-discrimination ordinances: New Orleans and Atlanta.
Harriet Hancock, longtime activist and Board Member of the SC Gay and Lesbian Pride Movement, said, “These ordinances represent the single greatest advance in civil rights for the LGBT community in the history of our state.”
Hancock was the architect of a 1991 city ordinance prohibiting discrimination in city employment on the basis of sexual orientation.©365Gay.com 2008