Eradication.

I miss Jorden.

I can watch his videos now without crying. Yesterday Emma and I lay in bed watching him tell me "NO!" when I asked him to wake up 'Ga'. We hugged each other and whispered how much we missed him.

We laughed at his faces and snuggled closer together.

I am afraid to think of him, afraid of what he is doing and how he is.

There is no signs that he was here. He has been eradicated from our home.

In desperation.

Out of fear that feelings will bleed out of my heart and I will fall.

An empty bottle of his rolled out from beneath my bed when I was looking for my shoe the other day. When I saw it I froze....

I think I figured it would disappear.

I clenched my eyes shut against the sting of tears that bit at my eyes. I willed my heart to slow.

I picked it up, and without looking threw it in the trash.

I received a picture of him from my secret Santa, his very first school pictures.

He was perfect in it. I remember I made him where a turtleneck t shirt OVER his sweater vest that day until right before he went in.

His little hands clenched in his pockets and he smiled big at the camera. I was standing behind her and to the left. I remember saying "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese Jorden, Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeese!" While she snapped away.

I was so excited about his pictures.

I clapped my hands and kissed his fat cheeks when he was done.


Even as I right this, my throat tightens and my eyes blur. I gulp repeatedly to get through it.

When I opened my gift and I saw what was inside, tears threatened. I touched his face, my fingers cool against the glass. I put it away and went to find Brandee.

She was in the infant room.

"Help me." I said to her. A smile frozen on my face.

"Oh!"  She knows what these words mean.


"I need you to help me." I repeated.

"Oh...okay...Tonight we are making cookies with the kids, and singing Christmas carols by the fire...Tomorrow we are having pizza and painting ornaments with the kids. I am so excited to see what Emma is going to make...."

I can feel the sadness fade.

I can feel it leak back into whatever place it came from.

"Don't forget! Then we have to go Christmas shopping! We have so much to do. And wrapping. We need to make a list of things...."  she continues

My tears dry.

My throat losens.

My smile hitches.

And "I am okay."

".....You are okay?"

"Thank you." I say.....and I mean it.

Merry Memory!

When everyone started talking about a Christmas program for this year, we all decided that we needed somewhere bigger to do it. There is no way that we can house all of the parents and guests in our classrooms.

So we put our feelers out there, and finally Juan decided that we should do it at McSwain.

We had been practicing our play and songs for weeks, I myself have read 'Chicken Soup with Rice' to my class every day since the first day of school. I KNEW that if we had a program, that I would want to perform it.

Why???

....I dunno. It was cute.

SO Mrs.O started making costumes and Brandee and I started practicing. Right away I knew Mason would be perfect for the boy. Cuz....well he is wicked cute. And that is reason enough. Plus I knew he wouldn't be shy.

I had try-outs for the Narrator part, but I knew I wanted Ava to do it. She reads the story EXACTLY as do.

After three weeks of practice every single day with 34 children,  Brandee and I were exhausted, the kids (I am quite sure) wanted to kick us, and I had my daughter and Mandy frantically making confetti sticks for the whale part.

The night of the show, it was a blur.

A Crazy hazy blur. But I do know that when the curtain closed and Brandee, Juan and I were frantically trying to remember which child goes where, I noticed movement to the left.

And there on the floor Mason lay on his knees. He spun and he spun in a circle.
Around and around and around.

It made me laugh and I stopped Juan to proclaim what a memory this was.

He looked at mason, laughed and gave me the "You are crazy look" before rushing off to help Brandee.

It WAS crazy. And lovely...and Lenas snowman nose came off, brandee practically frisbee'd the mason pot on stage, and we totally LOST all of the confetti sticks that Emma and Mandy had made.

But it was perfect, and funny, and a memory that will always stay with me.

My weekend with Chewy.

I have learned that between work life and home life there is not much time for any other kind of life.... Which, is fine by me.

However I tend to try and eke out every drop of happiness in the world.

Leech every smile from passerby's and drum out a laugh from between a perfect strangers lips.

While shopping this last Saturday, I brought along my Chewbacca. He was gifted to me by a parent at work, and I have quite fallen in love with him.

So Saturday found me in the backseat of Mandy's Chevy, Chewbacca clutched in my arms.
We were shopping. For Christmas. Nice right?

Brandee and I were shopping warriors....At least, this is what I told myself. (It sounds much better then shopping procrastinators.)

The rain sprayed the windows and sloshed against the tires, but Chewy and I were safe and dry.
We battled the crowds at the mall, and stood in line at aeropostle...A store, my daughter loves. The crows were ridiculous, but we could only laugh and breathe and hum Christmas music beneath our breath.

We left the mall pretty happy with ourselves, only to find a 30 minute wait to leave it. I was hungry, and when I whined that I was hungry, Mandy offered me sunflower seeds.

"It's all I got."

I accepted. Popped a cheek-full of saltiness in my mouth and contemplated my fellow shoppers out of the dark tinted window.

They were grumpy.

THEY were really really grumpy.

So, I did the only thing that made sense to me. I popped Chewbacca out of the back window and using my fingers, I made his little furry arm wave to them.

He "turned" his GIANT head and watched people drive up next to us. He growled and waved and hopped about.
And soon enough the grumpy shoppers began to smile.

They began to laugh and point and wave.

In fact, you would be surprised to know how great the numbers are of grown ups, who will wave at a stuffed animal.

(it's alot)

A car pulled up along side of us, and the back window slid down. A man popped half of his body out of the window and screamed to Chewbacca "Jump little Chewy JUMP!!!! I will catch you!!! Come on buddy....JUMP!"

But Chewy shook his head and shyly waved instead.

He waved back and slid his thin body back inside. Everyone laughed, and I did too in the backseat.

All along McHenry and Tully and um....another street..Chewy waved and people laughed...But always waved back.

In front of Target, Best Buy and TJMAX people laughed, and waved and in one case, pulled their child closer, because they probably thought I was a child molester luring children with my fuzzy big headed beast.

INSIDE Best Buy  a man who worked there wore a jacket that said "Zombies WERE people too" He stared at my Chewy.

"You wanna hold him?"

"I really really do." he said

So I handed him over.

"Squeeze him...he's squeezy."

And he did. He helped us with everything we needed.

On Sunday evening, after an entire weekend of shopping we were all BEAT. I left my house, once again with brandee and Mandy. The plan at the end of the day was to pick up dinner, a movie and wrap presents.

My soul was tired. I had slept on and off in the backseat between stores, while the rain poured on the car. It sounded so lovely to me.

The splatter of the rain, and the swoosh of the wipers washing it away. Splat swoosh splat swoosh....
I lay in the backseat, lightly sleeping. My hoodie pulled tight against my head.

The door opened and Mandy stood there. She held an umbrella for Brandee and I, and quite honestly I felt like a celebrity. I felt like I should be wearing an incredibly short skirt with nothing underneath, and when I exited the car the paparzzi would burst bulbs at me and my vagina would be on US WEEKLY the very next day.

But alas, there was only wind and two smiling faces when I excited, who probably did not understand why I yelled "VAG SHOT!" when I exited the vehicle.

Regardless, mandy cradled us in umbella while we battled the raging rain.

Inside Target Mandy DEMANDED that Brandee and I try on footie pajammas. "Okay" Brandee said.

"I DONTWANNAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" I whined

"Yes. You will. SO there." Mandy exclaimed. And picked out blue footies with sharks for feet.

Brandee giggled and I said "FINE! But you are the meanest person ever." Then I Harrumphed. (Which was quite impressive.)

Brandee and I took numbers at the changing room and went next door to each other.
 As soon as I slid my foot into the shark I started to laugh.
                                ...and laugh....
                                                    And laugh!

Until my body shook and my legs crossed so that I wouldnt pee all over my blue shark footies. I opened the door and leaned against the wall. Mandy started to laugh and Brandee came out looking all cute in her pink owl footies. I  looked like a blue burrito.

The blue fleece clung to every nook, and indeed...every cranny too.

I laughed and laughed and started to dance. I did the running man and the Gundum style.

(A picture DOES exsist)

The lady in the front laughed and told us we were selling the footies for her.

I loved Mandy a lil bit more for making me do it, and hung the shark P.J's back up.

 AT the end of the evening, as promised we stopped by blockbuster. I held chewbacca in my arms as we perused the movies. My face was stuffed against his fur and I  inhlaed his happy smell. I missed my babies, and couldnt wait to them to come home.

We finally decided on two movies and checked out.

As we were leaving a man, who looked like a boy and a woman who looked like a stuck up snatch were having a conversation about footie pajammas.

"No...I swear they do exsist. And they're are nice ones too!" he insisted.

The girl shook her head in disgust.

Brandee informed the boy and the snatch that we had indeed, just tried on footie pajammas.
She shook her head once again and proclaimed. "I just think that there is a time that you just have to GROW UP."

"Really?" I asked her and held up my Chewy. I squooshed his tummy and he growled at her. She didn't even crack a smile.

We left, and I looked back. She frowned and continued talking to the man/boy.

I felt sorry for her. How sad.

It was raining again, so I stuffed Chew into my jacket. I pulled my hood up and dashed next door to TOGO's. YUUUUUUUUM.

As we entered, a girl rushed forward and held up her hand "Im sorry. BUT NO DOGS ARE ALLOWED IN HERE...okay?"

I was confused.

I pulled out Chewbacca and held him up. "Butitsjustchewbacca." I exclaimed

"oh....OOOOH!" and she laughed.

The whole time she made my sandwhich I stared at the pimple on her face. The.WHOLE.Time.

Until Mandy saved me and sent us back in the car to keep warm.

We went back to Brandees and watched pitch perfect while we wrapped. We laughed and butt danced. (That's the kind of dancing you do while you are wrapping a million gifts)

At 10:00 we bucked back up and headed out to pick up Emma in Oakdale.

That night I crashed into bed, with both Chewy and Emma beside me.

I cannot sleep.

\\
I cannot sleep.

I watch the Christmas lights flicker on the face of my child. She sleeps so sweet, so soft... so genuinely.

I hold my breath and switch positions. I do not want to wake her. My fingers slide through a strand of her hair, and even this is infused with life...with the electricity of youth.

My mind races through pictures and stories and news flashes.

The christmas lights become the flash of a siren and I am transported.

 "Six-year-old Jesse Lewis had hot chocolate with his favorite breakfast sandwich — sausage, egg and cheese — at the neighborhood deli before going to school Friday morning."

"They were supposed to be for the holidays, but finally on Friday, after hearing much begging, Charlotte Bacon's mother relented and let her wear the new pink dress and boots to school."

"The images of Olivia Engel will live far beyond her short lifetime. There she is, visiting with Santa Claus, or feasting on a slice of birthday cake. There's the one of her swinging a pink baseball bat, and another posing on a boat. In some, she models a pretty white dress; in others, she makes a silly face."

Every Christmastime, we move a bed our to the living room. We do this because it has been tradition since 2008 AD (After Divorce) ...we cuddle beneath the tree and fall asleep dreaming of the Grinch, Elf or Olive.....The OTHER reindeer.

This morning I watch my daughter sleep, and my lips move in a prayer.

I know we all hold our children closer. I am not the only parent watching their child breathe easy beside them.

My mind cannot stop going to the place where 20 mommies lost their babies. Where 20 fathers grieve their child.

It is unnatural to lose a child. In any matter, and in any event.

I know those mommies and daddies hurt. The very breath in their lungs burn. They wake from dreams and walk a nightmare. I know they cannot swallow past the tears that clog their throats.

I want to DO something. I want to rub a back or hug a neck. I want to make sense of it all. I want to erase the fear from the faces of the children that I see, in the paper, walking hand on shoulder.

Frightened, scared. Confused.

Children live in a bubble. It is one built of love and constructed of trust. It is thick and it is strong and it was placed there by parents who love them MORE then they love themselves.

Parents who would give their own breath to fuel the body of their child.

Children love everyone. They trust everything, and believe in the magic that we place before them. Just as they should.

But now...these children who have cowered and been covered by the shaking bodies of their teachers, Who have been clutched to relieved parents chests, thier hair cried upon....will they still believe?

In the power of magic. In the word of adults. Will they still give trust where it is undeserved?

Will they wake in their sleep and cry out for their friends lost forever...

I can almost hear the hit of knees. Thousands upon millions as they fall upon them to pray.

The slap of trembling hands and the utterance of words.

Prayers.

Millions of them. Said in whispers and whimpers. Given in strong voices and weak alike.

I know we pray, and we ask why. And this question will never be answered. How can it?

Why the fuck did this happen? To the most perfect. The innocent. The silly.

How do I explain this to my children...My mind races and naturally calms. It calms and tries to make sense of it all....But It cannot.

It cannot fathom the reasoning behind this. Because there is none.

Addiction.

I stumbled out of bed this morning and reached for my can.

Shit.

It was empty...... EMPTY!

(In my mind I sounded EXACTLY like chewbacca right then.)

I looked at Karma who was at my feet. My eyes were bleary..I would rub and rub but alas, this blearyness is a side effect (I am SURE) to the empty can, now clutched to my chest.

"Karma. WHY is the rum always gone?" I asked in a bad.... BAAAAAAD Jack sparrow accent.

Karma did not know, hence she flopped onto her back and proceeded to try and itch it on my kitchen floor.

I stared at her, I swear for 3 minutes straight....or...maybe I fell back asleep...I dunno.

"Oh no." I whispered to the quiet house with two sleeping children inside. "I'm ganna have to go out and get more."

I threw on clothes that I found in random places, covered my top side with a jacket of some sort and left the house.

It was foggy. I kept blinking my eyes, because I figured something was wrong with them. But no....Fog.

I started the car and squinched down in the seat, Regina Spektor sang on the radio about ball eyes and lip mouths and I sang with her. Waiting impatiently for my windows to defrost enough to drive. I contemplated walking, but...fuck that.

Finally!!! I had exactly 3 inches of window that I could see out of, and I put it in reverse. Muttering to myself that I almost had it...be patient.

 It was only a block away. As I parked I noticed a man standing outside the building, three feet away. I did not care.

He approached me and I growled at him.

"Hey!" He said. Oh my god he was SO offended, and I paused...."Did that growl sound like chewbacca to you?" I asked. My throat harsh with just woken upiness.

"No." He scowled.

I growled again and pushed past him to go inside. It was warmer there, so I didn't have to clutch my jacket around my body.

I stood on the welcome mat and blinked my eyes.

I rubbed my eyes.

I looked around.

I threw my head back and moaned...

"I Neeeeeeeeeeed coffeeeeeeeee!"

I whined to anybody who would listen.

"Oh my god!" The lady behind the counter said. She came around and walked me over to the coffee place. "Here!"

"But...but...I don't want that one. That one is stupid I dont like it."

She laughed.

I pointed to the coffee that had a sign on it OUT OF ORDER!!!! It proclaimed.
That out of order sign practically bitch slapped me. Im just sayin.

"I want that one, but that one is gone. It is all gone and that one is all i waaaaaaaaaant."

She laughed again and shook her head "That one is fine."

"But...there is a sign."

"Ignore the sign. I make it. It is good."

I pushed back my hood, and grabbed a big honken cup. I started filling it. The lady stood there next to me....I dunno why. "Do I look pretty?" I asked.

Her eyes slid over my fucked up hair, with three bobby pins shooting up from my scalp, my running eyemakeup, and my clothing.

I looked down.

I wore Shanes fleece superman pajammas. The legs were two feet two long, so I was walking on them. I wore a bright green polkadot shirt, and an old Bobby Jack hoodie. I dont even know where it came from.

"Yes...you do." and she walked off.

I don't know WHY I ask people that all of the time, when I KNOW I look like hell on two fleeced legs, but I always do.

I guess I am waiting for someone to tell me the truth.

No one ever does, except Brandee.
But she is mean and plus a bully.

My cup was full and I sugared it and creamed it. I stuck a straw in the top and sucked back an inch of it.

I sighed.

I am addicted.

At the register the lady was laughing at me.

"Did Shane get a part in the play?" She asked while she rung me up

"Yes...your son?" I said around the straw in my mouth.

She nodded.

I have been coming to this store since Shanes first day of Kindergarten. We use to get a slurpee every day. Now he is a senior in highschool. Im old and I know, NOT CUTE when I first get up.

I leave the store and the man is still standing by my car.

I open the door with my hand, but push it open with my body, whining the whole time. "ooooooopen!" I say to the hunk of metal.

It does.

I drive home, and Karma greets me at the door. I think she has figured out why the run is always gone.

Blinders..

On Thanksgiving, I sat in front of my computer twice, my fingers poised over the keys.

The Facebook asked me, rather nosey-ly I might add.

It was the day to post what we are thankful for....I would leave the chair and return several times. What am I thankful for?

 There is an elephant in the room on each of my days. On every morning upon waking and finding yet another baby shoe to trip on. On seeing Mrs. Maria at work, The sadness in her eyes mirrors my own.

In the empty backseat and the empty highchair. It sounds cold, I know, to ignore the fact that Jorden is gone. I can ignore it or embrace it and as of yet the thought of embracing the gaping hole inside of my heart is unbearable. Instead I bury it down...so deep down inside of me that it is muffled and cannot be heard, felt or touched.

I will take it out again when the pain as lessened and I can analyze my feelings as well as the reasoning behind the human beings who would do this.

My Daddy taught me, Your mind can play tricks ON you, or play tricks FOR you. And as of yet I am enjoying the tricks the mind plays for me. The numbing of my heart is automatic....It cannot be healthy. But there it is.

I am not the type to wallow. In grief, in depression or in the act of dispair.

I have to focus on something....anything...

I am thankful to those friends who helped me focus, when my eyes could not.

I am thankful for the place that I work. ( don't tell my boss) I love my job and I love all of the children housed in my classroom. My little tiny snotty squishes. Who make me laugh when I forget too.

I am thankful for friends who help me every single day. To laugh, to worry...to find the next thing to look forward too.

I am MOST thankful for Shane and Emma, who constantly amaze and thrill me with their humor, wit and laughter.

I am thankful for everything good. Every scrap of goodness that can come out of this world. I say a silent 'Thank you' for. The blink of a christmas light, the laughter of a child. The kiss between two people, even if I do not know them.

A smile, a new movie, and exciting event in someone elses life..... Feeds me happiness, Joy and Hope. I latch on to it like a succubus, drinking heavily and coming away fulfilled.

Handerpants...

I don't know how my sons head got so big.

I really don't. But it is.

I don't know how the time has flown by so incredibly fast. He is a senior. A SENIOR. In highschool.

WHAAAAAT?!

Yesterday afternoon he stumbles out of bed at noon. He sits at the edge of my bed and stares at the TV. I was walking past him, picking up laundry from the floor. (YES my floor. Who has time to make it in the hamper really?)

 Shane is intensely funny and most of the time I stare at him and my heart expands in my chest.

I shake my head, and thank whatever divine powers gave him to me and make a snarky comment about his waking up so late.

There is no way that my parents loved me as much as I love my children.

Emma is a beauty/genius who most of the time outsmarts Shane and I.

Our family unit is strong, funny and unabashedly...embarrasing for all of our friends.

Yesterday Shane's best friend (And EVERYONE KNOWS my favorite) walks through the door. I had just changed from my purple blouse and skirt, AKA my funeral attire, and layed down on the couch with Emma.

In my hand I held the remote, and because Jorden is not here this weekend BOTH doors were open, and there was a breeze wafting over my body.

Happiness.

Jose walks in, and I remember that I promised to take the boys to the Halloween store. My body tries to sink into the couch, but alas...It cannot because of the fatness.

"Hi JOSE!" I say in happiness.

"Hello Family. I wanted to make sure you were here."

I inwardly sigh, because at the moment the couch is THE most comfortable place in the history of the world. EVER. And my soft squishy daughter was laying on top of me. Her head against my left breast and her arms snuggled around my fat.

The T.V was paused on some ghost story and our toes, prior to Jose walking in, had been curled in fear.

"Let me go change." I say in excitment. (Who says patience is the most important thing to learn whilst parenting? Methinks it is fake happiness)

We get into the car.... Shane is nice and lets Jose sit in front. He squishes in the back with Emma. They immediately start hand slapping and arguing. "STOP FIGHTING!" I say.

I hear them whisper threats back and forth to each other while I talk to Jose in the front seat "Jose...what did you do yesterday?"

"Um..I worked."

"Seeee Shane? Jose worked! Why haven't you worked yet??? ....Jose do you have an F like Shane. Shane just got an F and it about broke my heart."

"Um...no...I have a C though."

"A C!!! What I would give for a C."

"MOM!...Uh...SEE JOSE! I am abused. Listen to my mom. I am going to call CPS and tell them my mommy abuses me and stuff."

"Oh go ahead. You are mean. You are a real bad bad boy!" I exclaim. "But I am just saying. Jose what did you do this morning?"

"Uhhhhh...." His eyes flick back and forth. I hear Shane utter "oh noo." In the backseat

"I uhhhh went to acollegetourthismorninggg." All in one sentance. Like he didn't want me to hear it.

"A College tour?! Shane! Why aren't we going on college tours?"

"Oh shit." Shane mutters behind me "Jose...just...stop making my mom like you more then me."

Which is just UNTRUE. Shane is perfect to me. He is hilarious and tall and a genius on stage. He has made lasting friendships and last week while getting shots at the doctors he asked the nurse if they would give him superpowers, simply because he would like to fly.

I just like to fuck with him.

We went to the Halloween store, and as we walked up I asked Jose if he was embarrased going out with Shane whilst he wore Handerpants and pajamma bottoms. He assured me that Shane was cool no matter what he wore, as long as he was comfy. (See why he is my favorite???)

While inside Emma started running around the store bumping into poor old ladies SIMPLY because I was slowly stalking her with a faceless mask.

We left and Shane decided he wanted a crash test dummy skin suit. "WHAAAAT!???" I say. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? No. NO you cannot have a skin suit."

"But I want it and you should get it for me because you love me and you are the best mommy in the world."

"No."

"BUT..."

"NO! Your wanger danger will show."

He laughs. "It will not. I will wear underwear."

"It doesn't matter! You can wear underwear and it will STILL show." I keep walking to the car.

"Jose...jo...jose...are you okay?" I hear shane laugh and say.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH JOSE!" I shout over my shoulder.... I keep walking (thinking about my couch and my daughter and scary shows. I look back once more.

Jose is hunched over laughing.

He cannot talk.

"See shane. Look what your winger dinger does." I mutter.

"Uh! It is not my fault! You did it. oooooh my mommies mad at me." He starts laughing with Jose and they get into the car.

Jose hunches over to the right and is still laughing. I ask him if he is okay. He nods.

"OOOOOOH! Baskin robbins!" Shane exclaims. "Can we have some?!"

"NO!" I say

"Ohhh mommy, just one scoop?" Emma asks

"Okay."

Shane laughs because Emma made me change my mind so fast, but really? Who says no to icecream? Communists thats who.

We converge on the parlor and Emma picks mine out. Jose chose cookiedough on a cone and shane (Wearing his handerpants no less) chose sherbet.

I give shane half of my mississippi mud icecream and my heart glows.

Because this is why I wake up extra early every day. Because of my babies. Who I love more then anything and everything.

Who make me glow with pride (F or not) and laugh at their  humor.

They are getting too big TOO fast. It has passed in a blur. In a minute increment of time.
Too fast.

Grief.

Grief surrounds me.

I can feel it thicken on my skin and attach to my heart.

It diggs into my memories and flashes of my father flicker beneath my eyelids.

Grief.

Time heals.

These are the words I say to Brandee and Dawn, both down a father in the month of October. Two similar lives, two men who lived each day for their daughters. They are gone, and I am at a loss for the right words to say.

What do you say?

How do you hold a friend?

What can soothe the ache that burns inside thier soul?

Nothing....just time.

At Dawn's daddies funeral service I just wanted to lay myself over her.

I wanted to protect Dawn. I wanted my shoulders to sop up her tears.

I sat behind her at the service and rubbed her back. I don't know if she felt me. But I was praying the whole time for her. I want time to speed up and her heart to heal.

I wanted to make her laugh and watch her eyes alight.

I wanted to spend more time with her then my work schedule allowed....

Yesterday I walked into Brandee's dads celebration of life. I wore purple in his memory and quickly pinned together a Harley flower to my shirt. One that I made because I am so broke that I figured I would get artsy.

Brandee and Mandy meet me outside. They do this because they know that I am uncomfortable. We go inside and Brandee rushes to the bathroom to "put on her face", And I see her daddys Harley there, in the bar. It sparkles beneath the lights, and the leather handlebar tassels swing to and fro as each person walks around it.

My eyelids tingle and I press my hands to them. They burn and I cannot stop the tears that well up from beneath my lids.

"You okay Beanie?" Mandy asks, a questioning look on her face.

"Yeah. Yes. I am fine." I shake my head and dab away the tears that threaten to fall.
I cannot let them.

How silly of me to cry.

How weak, when I need to be a source of strength.

How dare I cry. What kind of a friend is that?

I shrug and Brandee approaches. She see's my tears and moans "ohh...ooooh....Beanie is crying.." And she wanders off the other way.

My eyes keep catching on the shine of the Harley.

It reminds me of my daddy. 

 I can see him straddle his bike and feel the fear and excitement in my heart as I scramble up behind him.

I can feel the thickness of his waist and feel the flannel of his shirt beneath my cheek as we start to move...as the rumble fills my small body.

I can smell the fumes and old spice in my nose. Feel my fingers grasp the loops in his pants....

Mandy puts a Margarita on the table in front of me. "Drink up Beanie." She says with a smile, and I lay my head on her for a second.

The day moves and my tears dry. By the time I leave I have recieved immunity from my memories.

I look down....

On my hand is drawn a turtle.
One that bears a heart in the center of her shell.
My turtle is a she.
Her name is Angie and just yesterday morning she has ended her fight (And what a fight it was) with Cancer.

She leaves behind a little girl Emma's age. It makes me cry. It makes me sad.

I rub the turtle on my hand as I drive home to Shane and Emma. I spend the day with them and they make me laugh.

They beg me for icecream, and I give in.

Brandee and Mandy bring me food left over from the service. I tell my children that they are eating funeral food tonight.

Mandy farts in the back window, right in Shanes face.

Brandee laughs.

Time will heal.

At Emmas birthday party last week, Spencer hold himself up. He moves along the couch and flashes his dimples at his momma.

Dawn laughs.

Time will heal.

But until then, know that I am here. And I will hold you, and make you laugh. I will dry your tears with my hair and kiss your head.

I love you. And even though every beat of your heart echos an ache. The ache will come less and less. Laughter will accompany your fathers name, and time indeed...will heal your hearts.

Don't look at me.

" I just can't look at you." A parent said to me today.

I responded by nodding and blinking back tears. " I can't look at you either...." 


Tomorrow is my last day with the Pre-K class that I started with at Buhach Preschool.

I want to cry and snot and hold my little beasts close. I want to wipe my snot in their hair and have then scream in disgust.

I want to take out my rubber chicken and tell them I am going to beat them with it.

I will probably do all of that but the snot rubbing. That may piss off my kids.

I remember my stomach turning with nervous, meeting them the first day. I remember thinking that there was NO way that I could love these kids, the way that I loved my babies back at KincerCare.

My class was small when I first started. About 10.  These I call my OG Pre-K'ers.

THEY will throw me my shoes when a tour is walking up my porch. Because 80% of the time I teach shoeless.

THEY will know what I mean when I am about to talk to a parent and I walk over to them and say "Nose?" ....They will answer Yes or No. And this, or course, is a booger check.

THEY will lay beside me on the floor of my class, our heads touching, while we discuss where the cracks in the ceiling came from.

THEY will march on our porch with me and sing the "Mr.Juan is old song."

THEY will sing "We will rock you" with me, while standing in line to pee.

 THEY will sing the "I love Gordie" song to Jorden through the crack in my wall.

This afternoon when a mom came and picked up her son, She immediately started to cry. "I just am so happy you came here Beanie...It's going to be okay, right? We will be okay....just...I cannot look at you right now."  And she put on her glasses, whispered "see you...for tomorrow..." and walked out.

I do not know if these kids have had a teacher who honestly LOVES them. Who worries about their first day of kindergarten and if they have slept properly the night before. Who misses them when they are absent and loves to give them squeezies every day.

I KNOW that we will all be okay, but regardless...tomorrow I will cry... I will miss them come Monday and I will never ever forget them.

This morning I.....

5:30 am...

This morning I froze butt nakid at the end of my bed with one leg up. my arm over my face fat flying EVERYwhere...

For some reason I felt that Jorden was a T-Rex and that If I did not move...he would NOT see me.

This did not work, and soon enough I was tucked next to him in bed, pretending that I was asleep ALL ALONG and that I had accidently gotten nekid and showered.
He tucked himself against me and burrowed his hand in my hair. Like "Yeah bitch. That is what I thought"

 6:00 am... 

This morning I Cheered on Jorden while he pee pee'd in the potty. It was a complete accident, and it scared the fuck out of himself, but I still did the "Wee Wee" dance for him. It is a wicked awesome dance....just ask baby.

 6:25 am...

This morning, while applying my mascara, I noticed Jorden (who was in the bath) stand up...look down and omit a battle cry while he swung his backscrubber at something in the water.

I interrupted just in time.

It was poo. And he was about to beat the.....shit....out of it.

6:30 am...

This morning I gagged while I shoveled corny poop, from the bathroom to the toilet. Jorden cheered me on all the while saying "Bye bye poo poo!!!!" and waving furiously.


This morning I chased a nakid baby, who was chasing Karma and yelling "Kargo! Kargo!"  Karma tore across the bed and stepped on Emmas hair. Emma didn't flinch.



And then it turned 7:00

I didn't love you then.

Two months ago I started my new job. I was scared. Nervous. But my heart led me.

The first day in my new classroom was, to say the least....interesting.

Every time I called my students Squish face, Hunk of love or squoosh, they looked at me strangely.
By the time circle time  rolled around one asked me "Do you NOT know how to say our names? My name is C-O-V-I-N."

"No, I do know how to pronounce your names, I just prefer to call you squish face."

"Oh...um...okaaaay?but...WHY?"

"Because I am your teacher and I want too... and In my class you never ever argue with the teacher."

"Okay then."

At circle time I sat on the floor and stared into 6 strange new faces. "Hello children. I am Mrs. Beanie."

"Beanie?...like...a bean?"

"Yes."

"Is that your real name though?"

"Yes."

He stared at me and half smiled "I have never heard of that name before."

"Well, I have never heard of the name Covin before either. But now I have...and so we move on."

During circle time I sang and the children stared. Half heatedly clapping, all the while glancing at one another.

I felt like I was in another dimension.

"What do you want to do today children? What shall we learn about?"

"You're the teacher...that is sorta up to you."

hmmmmm...

When a 5 year old talks to you like he is 35 it is...unnerving. quite.

We moved forward and I spent the remainder of the day observing the kids and watching their mannerisms.

They didn't seem to have a sense of humor. I tried joking....nothing. I tried making silly faces...Nada....I made up silly songs that rhymed quite brilliantly....ZILCH.

On the way home, I stared at Brandee. "I quite feel like city mouse visiting country mouse." And She agreed.

But here's the thing...these children...were POLITE. Asking to please be excused before leaving the table, These kids were SIMPLE...Singing the 10 little Indian song with happiness. A song I had not heard since my OWN childhood.

I did not want to ruin them. What if I sang a silly song and they turned into beasts who punched their friends in the crotch and flipped me the bird.

They were innocence. Raised....differently, almost as if they were in a different time. A simple time. Where a good time was making sand angels and playing badmitton.

Two weeks passed by and when one certain child  came into our class the whole class greeted him as such "GOODMORNING HUNK OF LOVE!" I smiled, and so did his mom.

A month passed and a child asked "Beanie...is it Friday yet?"

"Nope...almost"

"Oh gooood. Cuz I wanna do the booty shake Friday dance."

I smiled.

When Star Wars Day came, I announced that we would be making star wars masks and reenacting light saber fights. They stared. "What is Star Wars?"

I gasped. I clutched my chest "You do not know what star wars is children?"

"No."

"Your parents have done you a great disservice."

Just then my hunk of love arrived. The children told him it was star wars day and he grinned. "OH YEAHHHHH!" he achieved a fist pump and after telling him that they had never seen star wars, I instructed him to teach circle time while I furiously traced out Darth Vador masks.

Within 30 minutes the children asked me if they could use markers as light sabers. "Absolutely...but if Mr.Juan comes, you hide them."

"Agreed." My hunk of love nodded

I have made every single one of my students hug me every single day. "Why do you need hugs so much?" one asked me "Because you are children, and YOU need hugs...every single day."

"We do?"

"Indeed."

Two months into my new job, and every single day...is a happy one. The children fight over who gets to sit next to me at lunch. They bring me star-wars stickers and fill me in on the episodes they have watched now.

They gladly march on the wooden porch and sing yet another song about Juan.

They hold up their fingers and believe that they become invisible.

They answer me when I ask them what they want to learn about today.

They sing with me at circle time and laugh at me when I snort.

My cabinet is filling up with star wars coloring pages made for me, with love.

They hug me, without me asking, and tell me I am pretty. 

When a new student came and accidentally called me "Mrs. Beemie." Covin corrected him "It is BEANIE...not Beemy...get it right!"

"Covin. Be nice. Remember how YOU reacted to my name my first day?"

He smiles shyly. "Well yeah...but that was different."

"How so?"

"I didn't love you then."

Repeat after me!

I love how children will repeat what I tell them too..


OH the power I wield in my hands. SOME people my be happy running a country or deciding on budgets, but ME? I'd rather be in charge of what children do and say. It is much, much funnier.

"Children..when Mr.Juan comes in, hide behind your fingers. It will make you invisible."

He enters the room and pauses. All 9 of my children (and myself) are giggling and holding their fingers in front of their noses, amazed at this new superhuman power that I have given to them

He stares, knowing that we are doing SOMEthing...he just doesn't know what.

"He can't see us kids! see? our fingers make us invisible" I repeat.

"OH! My gosh. where IS mrs. Beanie and those kids!" and he walks out.


************************************


We sit in circle time. Our legs folded and our hands resting in our laps. I am reading to them and they are avidly listening. These kids love stories.

A fly lands on one child's head. He waves his hands about.

It lands on another child's nose. He waves his arm and scowls at the slooooowly buzzing fly.

I am losing their attention, and it PISSES me off. So I pick up a thin book and scowl at the fly. I stalk it and hold my breath. WHACK!!! .... the fly is dead. I scoop it into a cup to feed our ants later, and the children exclaim "WOW! Did you just see Ms. Beanie!!! How did you DO that!"

"I, children, went to a super ninja fly killing school....it's very exclusive. When you grow up. maybe you can go too."

They sit and stare at me. One whispered to the other "When I get big Imma go to that ninja fly school too!"

************************************

 

"Mrs. Beanie, why do you call me gorgeous face?"

"Well...ummm...cuz you are cute?"

"I am?"

"Uh...yeah!! Didn't you know?"

he smiles

The next day when he walks in 10 kids sing loudly "Goodmorning gorgeous face!!" His mom smiles.


************************************

Buh bye Beanie.

When I made the decision to leave Kinder care, it wasn't easy. Kinder care has been my home for almost 5 years. Some of the school age children, I potty trained. I feel as deeply embedded in the 43 year old tiles as anyone.

It is something I thought hard about, Asked the opinion of others, held family meetings about and weighed out the pro's and cons.

I am not about to blather via the internet WHAT it was that pissed me off so. Sorry. I can't do that.

I will tell you that I reached out to the one other person that I have wanted to work with. And as it happened, he wanted to work with me as well. (I kinda already know that he loves me anyway)

My list of questions was long, and after speaking to Dawn I decided that for ME... My best choice was to gracefully bow out. Kinder care is going a new way and Beanie did not want to follow.

That last day was hard. I held Kingston on my lap as he begged me not to go "But...Beanie. I really don't want you to go. But...will you come BACK?"


"Ummm. no Kingston. Maybe to visit I will."

"Well then I don't like that Beanie, and it makes me very upset with you."

"I am sorry. I love you. You will see me on your mamas facebook."

"Yeah" He nods his head (Which was once so gigantic and now, sadly, is proportionate to his body.)

"Maybe you can come back on Thursdays, because on Thursdays I am in a good mood."

I just kissed his normal size head, which he HATED and squooshed him into my arms.

The HARDEST part was leaving Deanna. My co-teacher. Because I love her and she loves Jesus and has a big booty and laughs at EVERYthing that I say.

She didn't want to hug me goodbye. I had to chase her down. I tried not to cry, but when her arms wrapped around me. I couldn't help it.

She whispered through her tears "There is only one Beanie...and now we don't have you anymore...he does."
And I cried.

And even though I have now moved and I do love my new students, and my co-teachers are nice. I miss all of my babies and Deanna every single day.

Poop eye...

On Tuesday of the week before last, it felt like there was something in my eyeball. The left one. The BELLSPALSY one.

I kept blinking and squinting and bending low to ask my children if they saw something floating about in it.

"Nope."


"Yep. I see your eye Mrs. Beanie."


" What exactly should I be looking for here?..."

When I got home, I took my eye wash that I own and flushed my eye with it. (It felt real real good.) but alas. My eye still scritched and scratched.

SOMEtimes, when I am over tired, my bells palsy eye will get sorta dry. I can't explain it. When it happens. I just basically have to moisten it or go to bed.

Wednesday: when I woke up. My eye was swollen and it would not open so I pried it open. My eyeball was red. It was crusty. "Fuck" I murmured to my reflection.

I texted my boss: "Brandee farted on my pillow...either that or a ghost punched my eyeball while I slept. I cannot come into work."

I felt fucking ridiculous missing out on work because of a fucking eyeball, but if it WAS pink eye. It is contagious.

I called my sister, asked her to google 'pink eye remedies' and picked up something at Walgreens. I wasn't concerned. I just knew that this would go away soon.

Mandy brought me medicine that day. She woke me up while I was in bed and gave it to me. Standard pink eye prescription.


Thursday: I wake up and run to the mirror. SURE that my eye will miraculously be better. I have medicine now!


Nope.
Fuck no.

It is worse.

My eye is swollen and red andblahhhhhh.

I want to cry. But I call out instead. I spend the day in my bed with an icepack firmly attached to my face.

FRIDAY: (Otherwise known as Wear ANYTHING you want day) Otherwise OTHERWISE known as, the day beanie can feel her soul is free because she gets to wear what she wants and feel like a damn princess at work....but i digress...

....My eye was glued shut. And if there any lid to my eye before...now it was gone.
I wanted to cry, but I doubt that would help.

I called everyone I could and told them that Brandee ruined my life because she farted in my eye with her gigantic booty. Everyone was aware that this was ALL HER FAULT.

My eye now hurt and I fisted gigantic baggies of ice into my eye all damn day long. (I automatically feel like ice makes everything better.)

I tripped over EVERYTHING. I ran into the walls. and by this point I had not seen Jordan for 4 days.
By now Beanie was pissed. My eye ball....really??? regardless, I made it over to pick up Jordan. 4 days is too many days for me....

SATURDAY:     It's bad. Now it is seeping. My undereye is so swollen, I now look like I have a Goddamn pussy for an eye.

This is the day of the huge rummage sale...I slap on some glasses. I go and start to help set up. Each time I bend over, my eye POURS out...i dunno...something gross.

My entire face is swollen now, and to be honest, I'm freaked out because it's my palsy side. And anything that happens on that side, just freaks me out.

Brandee shows up and takes a look at my eye. Which is swollen shut and leaking. I put my glasses back on my face and try to seperate clothing.


"I reeeeeally want you to go to the hospital Beanie."


"Noooo. I'm fine." I lift my glasses "Don't you think it looks a teeny bit better?"

"No. No I don't"

I figure hey. Maybe this moving around is leaking out the bad stuff. Ill walk it off. Yeah. that's it!
Soon I realize the futility in this. I'm exhausted. My face hurts. My eye hurts. Something is wrong.

I agree to go, only if Mandy goes too, and makes sure everyone is nice to me at the hospital, because I have no insurance.

We leave. Pick up Mandy and head in. The staff at Memorial medical center were indeed, very nice.

We sat in the waiting room. Brandee on her phone, Mandy on her ipad thingy, and me wiping my eye with a towel that I kept in a ziplock. I kept making Mandy look at me "Mandy, am I still beautiful?"

"Yes. Beanie, you are always beautiful."

I knew she was lying because my eyeball had turned into a cunt. But then again. She is a lesbian. Maybe they go for seeping cunt eyes. But I knew, she just loves me and wants me happy. So everytime I asked, she would tell me yes.

You know it's bad, when the doctor walks in and says "I'm sorry that I am staring." and then snaps a photo of your face....I'm just saying.

When they numbed my eye I was scared. When he UV lighted it, making brandee hold the light. It kinda freaked me out. When he scraped my eyeball with a q-tip thingy, I went to my happy place.

One that DIDN'T involve cunt eye or Uv lights. One where penises were swinging around and talking to me. Dancing and hopping on their soft squishy ball feets.

Soon it as over, and the doctor proclaimed that I have never had pink eye at all. I had scratched my cornea and then had an allergic reaction to my drops. He said I would get a shot of antibiotics, some steroids and a better eye cream.

I was relieved.

Mandy rubbed my arm while the nurse put a shot in my buttocks.

And on Monday I went to work. My eye had reopened but I couldn't make up it. I was barefaced Beanie, and I scared my children I think. They all said they wanted to see my pink eye. Because Mr.Juan said I didn't never ever wash my hands after I went to the bathroom and so I have poopeye.

I wanted to kick him.

By Tuesday I could wear light makeup.

By Wednesday I was good to go.

Now I am always scared of something getting lodged in my eyeball. Sand, weeds.... testicles.

So I have decided to wear sunglasses every day for the rest of my life.

A day with Emma ARCHIVE 2/2007

My backs been bad. But we needed food.

and really...whats a mom to do?

Friggen pop a few pills and haul her ass to the store that's what.

Moms don't get to get jacked up o vicodine and sleep for a week...oh nooooo.

okay..okay...I'll leave that lie there.

Now. Emma and I were perusing the isles of WINCO. I do believe we were in the cereal isle. It is Emma's turn to pick out the cereal, last time Shane picked out raisin bran...which she hates.

She is looking for the pirates of the Caribbean cereal.
She is having no luck.

She sighs, tosses her waist length hair behind her back and grabs up a box of fruity loops.
Her eyes meet mine.

"This isn't exactly what I want.." she shrugs "it'll do tho.." And with a heave she chucks the box into our overflowing basket.

I reach down and graze her bangs with my fingertips.

"It's okay baby..maybe next time." i softly say.

I smile as i take in her cowboy boots, jeans and grey short jacket.

She's a doll. Toph and I are such proud parents of our two twerps.

We get to the end of the isle. Winco is busy today. We stand still as baskets wiz past.
I feel like frogger. I lean down to say this to Emma, and as i do her face lights up and she sucks in a breath.

I raise my head so that i could see what she is seeing.

It's the Winco Midget.

I spotted him there about a month ago....maybe two.
Everyone knows that Dawn is frightened of them, and i use him for cell phone picture fodder as much as possible....

Emma sees him and her eyes alight. her cheeks turn Rosy and she inhales a breath....Lord knows what she is going to say.

I reach down and mumble her mouth with my hand. As i do i make this noise with mine "Mhhumishnobby"

She looks up at me, and gently pulls my hand from her mouth.

She is puzzled.

I can tell by her eyebrows. Her facial expression says this "What the fuccccccck are you up to now you strange woman?"

Lord knows that you can never tell with me.

She glances at the wee man again.

Once again. Her eyes alight...she inhales...I reach down again. "Mhhumishnobbyyyyy"

I pull her around the corner.

I squat down to her level.

"Emma....what were you going to say?" I am trying my best to hold in my giggle.
If you know my daughter then you are aware of her...wordings.

If you do not know Emma then i truly feel sorry for you. She is a gift.

I say "Emma Elizabeth...what were you going to say?" I say this as i bite my left cheek. HARD.

She is looking bewildered.

"Mama...was gonna say Look there..look momma...and ELF!"

I pulled her to me so fast that her head jerked back a tiny bit.

I buried my hand in her hair and my face in her neck and i laughed and laughed and laughed.

I smothered my laugh with her jacket.

I could feel her grin against my forehead.

I could feel her tiny hands pat my back.

I lift my face. My mommy meter is going off at an alarming rate.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

There is a lesson to be learned here.

I stifle my laugh (okay okay i fricken TRY to stifle it)

"Emma remember when mommy told you that every person comes in different sizes?"

She nods.

"Small Tall fat..fricken bony ?"

She nods again.

She smiles.

She has a dimple in her left cheek. It charms me for a moment.

That wasn't an elf love...It was a midget."

"ooooooooooooooooooo"

I nod.

"Like the ones dawndee is scared of?"

My head goes back and i laugh. This laugh comes from my uterus. It is deep and long. It makes her smile and giggle at me.

I stand up. "Yes love. Like that. Only midgets are just regular people in smaller packages."

She nods. And understands. I cannot stop laughing tho. I set her up with some toys in an aisle and I frantically call dawndee. I snort my way thru it.

I hang up.

Lets go love.

And off we go to shop.

We near the end of this isle and Emma slows. She stops. she looks to the left and then to the right.
Her long hair sways.

"What in the world are you doing Em?"

She turns around and grabs the basket. She leans in and with her thumb and pointer finger she squishes down.

"I'm looking for the midget." She says with a wide smile and glowing eyes.

"I wanna squish him"

*sigh*

Later...

Emma is picking out yogurt. I am trying to explain to her that even tho trix yogurt and gogurts are both on sale...gogurt has two extra yogurts inside and so it is the better deal....

Yeah...

I know...

It bored her to near comatose too.


She is sitting on the edge of the icebox where the yogurt is kept.

She sits up straight..she sits up tall. her face alights. She smiles. A dimple pops out at me.

She turns to me.

"mooooom" she whispers. but not at all quietly.

She then hold up her left hand and with her right points to her hand. Like to her palm.

She is trying to hide her point.

I look beyond her palm.

There he is.

"heeeeeeeeeeeee" She smiles. "I like him!"

I roll my eyes.

"Gull!!!!"

She giggles and skips away. Only begging for 25 things by the time we reach the end of the refrigerated section........

Pudles are Crack for kids ARCHIVE 2/2007

Thursday night we took the kids to see Bridge to Tarabethia...

(Don't do it....dont...please...run...save yourself....)

Actually the kids loved it. Especially Shane. Toph and i? We rolled our eyes and yawned the whole time. I kept thinking of popcorn and dildos....don't ask why. I can't tell you why.

That is the way my mind works.

The other day a friend of mine told me that my mind jumps around like Frogger.

Seriously. That's TRUE!!! Cept I don't really get smooshed by cars and shit.

I'm seriously worse in real life. Toph has 12 years with me so if in the middle of dinner I start a conversation with "Anyway so she said yes."

He will usually search his mind vault and figure out who she is and why she said yes. It takes him a second. But he's good. He's real good.

Back to the movie..... See? 

So were on the way to the movie theaters. This time we go to the one near our house. It literally takes us 5 minutes to get too.
It is raining so hard at times and hailing on us at others. We're running and laughing and shouting "Hurry up kids!!!!"
Emma is searching out the puddles and with her hot pink boots she is.... SPLASH SPLASH!!!!!

"Emma! Get out of that puddle!!!!" Toph warns
We run we run...we're almost there.

I see a HUGE puddle.
I snatch Shane's shirt with my fingers. "Wait...look at the puddle. Lets go around."

(Shane is past the age of puddle splashing. Sadly It is no longer a priority to him.)

This is the great thing about having two kids and two parents. Whichever kid I take, Toph snaps up the other.
Shane and I hop the small cascading river that is running in the middle of the brick lines street.
I can hear toph to my right..... "Emma.....EMMA...EMMA!!!!"

Emma....she stomps thru it. She is smiling and popping those dimples as she does.

"Would you stop stomping thru the puddles Emma Elizabeth!?" Toph sounds exasperated.

"She can't help it." I say as I watch her head for another small puddle. "Puddles are crack for kids...That's like asking a crackhead not to smoke-toke it up."

Toph smiles and we both look at Emma.

I could have stopped her. I am mostly the disciplinarian in this family. Daddies fun and Mommy's the boss. *insert eye roll*

I didn't stop her. How long will she splash through puddles with such abandon and dimple pops? How long before she is worrying about her shoes?

Not long.

So I watch her hop the puddles. We watch her splash.

Hair Pie - ARCHIVE 3/6/2007

So after the MERL pictures. And BEFORE the pie the gals and I got on a subject.

A hairy one.

A crotch hairy one.

We were talking about our 4 day road trip to coachella this summer.

"I so can't wait to hear you fart Dawn!" (Dawn is a self proclaimed non farter....that is SO another story)

"What.EVER!!!" she smiled.

I looked at Geeka. "She's gonna fart in her sleep I KNOW IT!!!! We'll catch her!"

"I know! And poop! You're gonna have to poop while were there too!" Geeka chuckled.

"Whatever. Stop the insanity. why are you two obsessed with my farting anyhow?" she rolled her eyes and took a sip of her diet coke.

"You say you don't. And EVERYONE farts. EVERYONE!"

I nod in agreement.

"Well you two probably snore! I cant sleep with you. You snore. I will need earplugs."

"You snore too sista" Geeka laughed out. She looked at me with wide eyes "That's how she gets rid of all her farts...she snores em out nnnnnshhhhnnnnnshhh!!!" she made a snoring sound.

I laugh. HARD.

"And you two prolly poo with the door open and will want to chat huh? Beasts!!! I don't want to see your pubes while you poo!"

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat! You're not ganna see my pubes."

Geeka is no help. She is still laughing so hard at her damnself.

"Why won't I? Does your belly hang over em fattie?

"Friggen Dawn! Fuck you!" I smile and flip her the finger.

"Noooo. They are neat a trim and beautiful. That's why you wont see em !"

Dawn laughs. Geeka is silent.

"What do you mean trimmed Beanie? What do you mean? how are they trim...do you trim them"

I look at dawn. She shakes her head.

"I mean Toph trims em all nice and neat...wait a minute Geeka!!!! Do you have an amazon bush?? I so bet you do!!! A big ole bush!"

She sits back. "I do beanie. I do!"

"Like how big???" Dawn asks. They are both sitting across from me. Geeka shows her. On her LEG!

"SHIT!" Dawn slap's her hand over her mouth. She is laughing so hard. Geeka looks scared.

We share the restaurant with only one other group. They start to get annoyed by our laughter.

"Okayyyyy...Geeks. When is the last time you trimmed em? A little snip...a lil cut..when?"

She stares at me. Her hands are over her mouth. She leans forward and fiercely whispers "Never Beanie never!!!!"

Dawn and i stare at her. Suddenly she burst forth "Who teaches you that? WHO??? My mom didn't teach me that!!!! Why didn't she?!!!"

Geeka is OUTRAGED!

"Who taught you that Beanie...." she turns and looks at dawn. "Who!!" Her voice has risen.

"Common sense taught me that."

She leans forward again. Listening. Like I am about to impart the secret of life to her....in whispers.

"Whatdoyoumean?"

"Well...I want my shit licked...so i make it easier to get to."

Dawn nods. She pulls her hair out of the pony tail and laughs. She shoves her head in Geekas face. "Do you wanna lick my scalp Geeka?? Huh HUh??? You wanna lick it through all that hair? Shave that 29 year old bush geekaaaaaa."

We are bombarded with questions. We answer every one.

Almost every laugh whether it was wheezy, chuckely or giggly is punctuated with a dirty look from our fellow dinners.

We try to stifle it. It is so hard when the three of us get together. Each of us is funny in our own right.

As we leave Geeka and I make plans to speed across the street and pick her up some scisors...maybe a nice beard and mustache trimmer for ms. bush o lala.

I also stick my tongue out to the people in the booth with the dirty looks. The man just blinks at me. Seeing a grown woman do that is shocking sometimes.
He probaby thought I was special needs.

Over at Walmart we find the perfect pair for Geekas wild and crazy bush....

Funerals and Satin panties - ARCHIVE from 7-09-07

Today my heart was quiet.



I stood there at the same site that I stood 6 months ago. When my daddy was buried.



Today I stood there, not in grief for myself. But in support of another.



Today I held hands and rubbed backs and kissed necks.



And my heart was quiet.



The wind kicks up high there. Almost fierce.



A million undead kisses finding a place to land.



A trillion unhugged huggs flittering about looking for the right person to embrace.



I sat Cameron aged 6 up on a rocky wall.



"Auntie Lollie... Im so sleepy"



"I know baby. Lean here against me."



And as he placed his head against my breast my arm circled his small body and I hugged him to me. My fingers playing with his hair. I placed kisses on his forehead every so often.



"I love you Auntie Lollie"



"And I you my Cam man."



My eyes searched the sea of grievers and I caught sight of the Burgundy curls of my oldest friend. Firmly encased in the arms of her family.



It was her son I held so close.



My heart was quiet.



Peaceful and quiet. I watched her mourn.



The soldier in the front issued an order and the guns were raised.



I placed my hand over Camerons ear. And curled my body around his.



*bang*



*bang*



*bang*



They rang on.



With each shot I flinched.



I was just sitting in the same chair that my friend now resides. Sobbing over the loss of my Pappa Bear. My daddy.



It feels like a blink ago.



Only a mere minute.



The wind licked at my dress. It kicked it up my thighs and I smile and pushed it back down again.



"Lord Cameron. Aunties dress seems to be too short for this wind."



He smiled up at me.



My hair lifted off of my shoulders and swirled around Camerons face and neck.



I hear a giggle from deep within my tangles.



I softly whisper "My hair loves you too"



"It's keeping me warm" his small voice mumbles.



I smile.



We leave the site and caravan up to the watching point. From here we can watch him be buried.



A tall white flagpole marks the spot.



Always at half mast.



We are parked and Cam man in chilly. So he stays in the van, where it is warm.



Melanie reaches to me. I hold her arm and walk her up to the vantage point. There will be a song sung now and as I clench her arm to me...My dress flies up.



I hold it down and snicker. I am sure at least one person saw my cobalt blue satin panties.



I lean into Melanie and whisper "This dress was not a wise choice."



"You are beautiful." And she huggs my arm to her chest.



"Well..." I smile "That is not the issue. My dress is too short for this hellacious wind and I think I flashed my panties."



She laughs. I watch her throat work as she does. This is good to see.



Heads turn and stare.



I smile and laugh a bit louder.



We take a seat and on the way I see a baby being cuddled. I stop and I coo and I squeak at him. He smiles and kicks his chubby legs. Working them so fast and reaching for my hair with his clenched fist.



I coo and laugh and let him have a small taste before I sit beside my friend.



Our arms are entwined. And our heads touch.



As the song begins I turn and watch her.



She blinks back tears and gulps back whimpers. I whisper many things. Many things. As she cries.



My eyes stray to where my father lies for a moment. And then they land on her again.



The wind kicks up and pulls her hair back. I watch her earrings swing and her hair fight at the wind.


I watch the little hairs that lie along her neck, move in the wind.

I rub at her hand. I mumer against her shoulder.

She blinks back tears and I whisper "Let them fall..."

We watch the burial and afterwards we head to where my father lies. Here we are alone and I unclench my skirt.

It lifts and blows and swirls in the wind.

I walk along the row of headstones. My eyes counting ahead.

I stop before him. "Hi daddy"

I stand there and remember him. For a moment it is still. And then my thighs feel the warm air as my dress is lifted again.

Melanie smiles at me. "Nice panties"

"Gee thanks" I smile back.

In the car we slowly drive. Through the gates and onto the road.

A song comes on the radio and I meet her eyes in the mirror. We smile and our heads nod.

Life moves.

Makeup.

Yesterday I was sick, which means I did the unfathomable....I wore no makeup.

My hair was thrown into a bun and I was not accessorized.... My students were confused at me:

Child #1

"Beanie....can you see?"

"Of course I can SEE ...whadya mean?"

"It just looks like you can't see properly." 




Child #2

"Hi Beanie....um...hmmm...where are your glasses?"

"I don't wear glasses."

(Stands there confused) "Well then what happened to you?"


Child # 3

Child 3 stands there and stares at me, once entering my room.

"Beanie....."

"yes..."

"Hmmmm...what HAPPENED Beanie. What is WRONG?"

"I am not wearing makeup."

"Oh...what is makeup?"

"Apparently, it is what keeps me looking like I can SEE, am healthy and are generally happy in life"

"Yeah..... Don't forget that tomorrow" ....And he walks away.

I want to rant about natural beauty. I want to gather my girls near and bombard the boys with how powerful we are as life givers. I want to explain that makeup is not needed to feel happy or too look beautiful. But the thought of my rant, exhausted me.



I LOVE mascara swiped onto my lashes and glitter in my hair.

I LOVE to  crimp my hair and color match my accessories.

I DO match my hairstyles to my outfit choice.

It makes me happy to get compliments on my hair, purse and accessorize choice.

I mumbled "I'm sorry" to every student after that who mentioned my lack of face, hair or earring.

Later, in the car, I was chuckling with my kids and telling them what the children had said. Shane kept gasping "But...but that is mean! That is..oh mygosh...these children are BULLIES!"

And Emma....she nodded wisely in the backseat. Laughed a little but ultimately said (After inspecting
my entire get up) "Mom...I know you're sick. But you could've done more."

I gasped.

"Emma!"

"I know...but still... Yesterday you sang that Lady Marmalade song allll morning because you had crimped all of your hair and it was fantastic and amazing. You wore a fabulous outfit. I'm just saying...You always look amazing at work....and today...  I think you're beautiful all of the time. Even in your purple ugly jacket and red sweatpants.... They don't know any better."

"....ALRIGHT!"

(shane still sputtered about 5 year old bullies)

 Later....

"Emma do I need to talk with you about how beautiful women are?"

"NO MOM...you do not."

"Just checkin...."