Tree Choad. (Or how to throw a fit when your 38)

choad

 As it stands, the word choad has three major definitions.

1) A short, fat penis that is wider than it is longer
2) The area between the scrotum/vagina and the anus.
3) A derogatory term used to insult somebody.

"Ducas has a fat choad."

"Last night your mom tongued my choad."

"Quit being such a choad."

It is almost October.

This is my favorite time of the year, not only do we get to celebrate Halloween, read Halloween books, wear Halloween inspired clothing and drink Halloween coffee...but in MY family, October 1st means that we make plans for the 'Other'  Holidays.

Eeeeeee! Holidays.
How I love them so.

The music, the smells, the lights. Ahhhhh
Encase you're wondering...I AM one of those people who end up on December 26th, trembling and teary eyed that Christmas is over... "But it happened so fast.." I always say.

How sad.

However, I am also the planner of the family, and after eating our weekly family dinner and catching up on everyone's week, I whip my phone out and demand "OKAY. Let's schedule pumpkins."

Brandee and I look at our calendars and decide which pay day is the best to visit Delosso Farms.
"That's not a payday, but the next pay day is too close to Halloween." She says.

I "Hmmmm" In response.

"I am working. I can pumpkin!" Shane volunteers.

"Yay! If we are broke Shane can pumpkin for us!" I exclaim

"No, we can save." Brandee says...like an adult.

We quickly schedule our pumpkin date and discuss which rides we will go on.

As I get ready to follow my children out the door I murmur to Brandee "Wish me luck with these two. I am like the BOTTOM of the totem pole when we are together."

Brandee wishes me luck, I squish Mandy's face to my boobs and I am out the door.

On the way home I am excited.

Filled with Glee even.

"OH CHRISTMAS!" I exclaim "I can feel you coming! We will have the BEST most AMAZING tree EVER!....Who's turn is it to pick our tree this year!?"

Shane claps with Glee "MINE!"

My stomach drops and I frown at him.
Shane has ALWAYS wanted the most depressing tree's at Christmastime. You know, the ones you feel sorry for. The ones with gaping holes or lopsided ones that cause you to look away so that you don't feel sorry for the tree. THOSE ONES.

"NO." I mutter

"YES!!!" He exclaims "And I am going to pick out the smallest, most chubby tree on the lot!"

"NO!" I gasp trying to still my sinking heart with my hands

"YES! It will be a tree choad!" He laughs manically which causes my daughter to laugh with him.

"But SHAAAAAAAAAANE! I don't WANT a tree choad!" I whine, which causes him to laugh even harder. His fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to keep the tears at bay.

"I know! I KNOW! But it is MY year and I want a tree choad!"

"Oh my god, and it will break in half when we put my shark ornament on it that Mandy got me." Emma chuckles in the back seat.

"But I want a big fat tree! I picked out the BEST tree!" I whined some more, trying to make them see it my way. LAST year was my year and our tree was magnificent!

"DO you mean the one that we had to cut a foot off of to fit in our house and it took us 5 HOURS to put up. THAT ONE?" Emma questioned

"YES! But wasn't it magnificent?" I whispered, still awed by my fat giant LOVELY tree.

"Well yeah...but you had to run to Walmart and buy a whole separate tree holder for it."

"But...well now we have one so Shane can pick out a giant tree!"

"NOPE!" Shane shook his head "I'm getting the choad and there is nothing you can do about it. It's MY TURN! Family rules."

He was still chuckling at me, even when I smacked him for it on his tummy.

By the time we got home, I was pouting (and stomping) Shane was STILL laughing and Emma was spinning around in circles, probably high with the knowledge that her mom was miserable.

Shane stopped on the front porch to our home and looked down on me walking up, " I'm over your tree choices! You know what Momma, your tree choices SUCK!"

I gasped appalled at anything that I have chosen sucking.

"The pink tree?" He questioned, his arms folded and his eyebrow raised.

"Well THAT was my divorce tree! I HAD to celebrate with pink tree icing and pink diamonds on top!"

"The tinsel tree?" Emma stood next to him, her eyebrow raised as well.

"AGH! That is a reminiscent of times past. IT SHINED so prettily!" I stomped up our front steps after them. Completely rethinking my decision to give birth.

"I don't understand why you two are Christmas ruining assholes! I am the best mommy EVER and have filled your lives with Christmas fucking joy. JOY!" I shouted and pointed to the sky.

I walked down the hallway, de-braing and stomping like a toddler.

Behind me I heard "Oh my. Mommy is so mad." Then laughter.

Lots of laughter.

"If those beasts think I am going to have a choad tree, they have another thing coming." I murmured to Karma.

She snorted (Which in Karma speak means: THOSE BASTARDS!)  and I was happy that I had ONE family member who would not be getting coal for Christmas.

Looking for cows.

A few months back, while sitting in the passenger seat, my stomach growled and Shane let out a laugh.
He was still learning how to drive and each day after I clocked off at work, I headed to Tracy to pick him up....


"Hungry?" He smiled

"Yes, and I am going to die from it. COMPLETELY DIE!" I huffed and crossed my arms.

"OHHHH MYYYY MOMMMYYYY" He singsonged at me peppered with chuckles and headshakes.

He always does that when I throw a fit.

"It is almost 7:30 and I found a turd on my classroom floor today....A TURD!"
"A surprise turd."

"Yes! And now it's late and I am so hungry that I want to eat your giant baby man face off!"

He gasped fake-appalled at my threat of eating his face, and chastised me accordingly. "How sad to YOU. I am not speaking to you for 3 MINUTES!"

My mouth dropped open "3 MINUTES?! But I barely even threatened eating your giant face, just barely!"

3 minutes was a lot in our family, usually it was 10 seconds of the silent treatment in which we would pout, apologize and be forgiven.

1 minute in: "I hardly think that is worth 3 minutes!"

2 minutes in: "I am so sad at YOU! How sad to YOU!"

2 min 35 seconds in: "I'm sorry for threatening to eat your face."

3 minutes exactly "I hope you have learned your lesson! I forgive you."

"That was HORRIBLE."

"I know. That is what you get. Now....look out the window Mama."

"What!? NO! I have to look forward and make sure we don't die..or worse...hit some gravel."

"Gravel IS death." Shane mimicked one of my driving lessons

"Precisely."

"We are fine momma, relaaaaax...Look out the window. Look for COWS!"

I snorted and smiled at him. "You remember that?"

He nodded and smiled. It made my heart happy.

When Shane was small, we drove around a lot. And no matter where we went, we would tell him "Look out the window Shane! Look for Cows!" He eagerly would for a minute or so and then makeup incredible places that he had spotted the mooing mammal.

On Car drives, or in waiting rooms we would play I-spy, sing along to Vegi-tales or make up stories together.
As he got older he would draw and then regail us with stories that went along with his pictures. (These usually involved Luigi in some way.)

On my keychain I had a itsy bitsy checkers set, and in my purse were spare pens and pads of paper for tic-tac-toe.

I took him everywhere with me. The DMV, Gynecological appointments (he would count behind the curtain to 100) and every kind of shopping imaginable.

After Emma was born, our travel time continued the same. We did have a DVD player in our car for long trips, but more often then not it was off and the whole family would sing along with Larry the Cucumber's 'GOD is bigger then the boogy man'
(10 years later and I can still sing every word.)

It is intriguingly sad to me, how often I see children walking along with their parents, clutching a cell phone or an IPAD.
I want to stop them and implore them to turn off the machine and enjoy their child.
Technology is everywhere, and I GET that I sound old when I shake my head at an opportunity to have touchscreens in my classroom.
APPS are amazing!
APPS can teach the children so much!"

I prefer human connection and verbal teaching styles. Computer APPS are perhaps an invention for the now while I, and my feelings about them are befitting of the past.

Old I know.

I scrunch my nose even now as I type this.

I always say that the most important thing in life, is to make memories....but after Shane's remark about cows I realized that it is even more important to be IN them.

Shut off your phones. Take a walk, sing a song and for my sake, wherever you go keep your eyes peeled for cows.

Castaway and Cold cream.

"Hey girl, Damn you look good. I know you just turned 38 but you don't look a day over 25." I gushed.

No I was not talking to my bestie.

I was talking to my vagina.

Being single means a great many things.

It means I get to stretch out on my bed kitty corner.

It means I get to read all day and not listen to anyone bitch to me about lack of attention, but more importantly it means that I can let my vagina resemble Tom Hanks face circa Castaway. (albeit a blond one thankyouverymuch)

This morning after lazing about in my bed and binge watching Sherlock Holmes I decided it was time for my weekly beautification ritual. Which means: soaking in a scalding hot bath infused with bath salts and bubbles up to my chin.
Also today, I decided, was a good day to check in on my vagina. You know, see what's good.
(Being single ALSO means I don't pay as much attention to her as I did when I was shackled.)
Poor Vagina.

Since the age of time, boys have always wondered what we do behind closed doors, The truth is
every bit as alarming as your imagination.
We soak in scalding hot water, we scrub out bodies (using imported sugar scrubs) and we apply ointment that aids in the sloughing off of dead skin to our feet and elbows.

Yes, we women wouldn't be as soft as we are without working for it.
My personal secret is simple and was passed down to me by my grandmother. Cold cream.

VAGINA TIP: The next time you shave your bagina bits, apply cold cream, let it sit for a good 5 minutes and rinse.
You will thank me. (And your vagina will feel like a silk.)

As amazing as cold cream is, it is a hard find. I had ran out a few weeks prior and was searching the shelves like a mad woman, squatting down and reading boxes and jars aloud...just to see if I had skipped over it in my previous 2 searches.

"Can I help you?" A woman stood to my right

"Yes. Cold cream?" I looked up at her and squinted my eyes

"Hmmm. Cold cream?" she questioned. Her eyes flickering between me and the shelf.

I sighed in irritation. Mostly because I had gotten this same reaction at both Target AND CVS.

"There is face cream." She grabbed a box and held it up

"That is not cold cream." I stated

"I've never even heard of cold cream." She muttered beneath her breath.

"OBVIOUSLY." I huffed, staring at her unsoftened skin.

But just then I saw it at the very very bottom next to the mineral oil.

COLD CREAM!!!!!!!!!! It exclaimed (In my grandmothers leathery voice)

"HA!" I held it in my hand before lovingly rubbing it against my heart. I grabbed two just for good measure.

Which leads me to my bath, and speaking lovingly to my vagina this morning.

"You should be in pictures!" I exclaimed to my vagina in the mirror and then I clothed myself and headed out to finish my Sherlock Binge.

Emma came up to me and rubbed my arm. "You are so soft. What is it. What do you use?"

I squinted at her, and decided that I should let her in on my little secret.
I left the vagina tip out.
For now.

Licensed.

I am a lucky mom. 

My son did not want to drive when he turned 16 years old. There is no way in HELL that he was ready too, and I had explained to him that until he had a job and could afford 16 year old insurance, It was a no GO.

I would like to say that I wish I was one of those parents that bought their child their first car and furnished their insurance, you know...all Betty Crocker and shit.

But alas. I live in the real world of Singlemom-dom and juggling bills like a boss. Like I said. I am a lucky mom. And I have a son who understood that.

When it came time to hand over his keys and teach him the way of the wheel I will honestly tell you that I was filled with a fear like no other.

"Shane has a job!" I exclaimed to B&B (Birdie and the Beast...respectively)

"YAY! Praise Jesus!" One of them said..or both.

"Now I have to teach him how to drive." I muttered and Immediately I had to poop.

(I have nervous poop syndrome. Its a thing.)

"You can do it!" Birdie cheered me on, while flashes of her own driving experiences with children flashed across her face. It looked like horror...and fear.

" I can't teach my kids how to drive." Juan shook his head "Nope"

"Yes you can." Birdie cheered (shes always cheery)

"I have to poop." I whined. Juan rolled his eyes and pretended he didn't just hear that and Birdie laughed.

Teaching your child to drive is the worst thing ever.

WHY hasn't anyone told me about this? WARNED ME even.

"Emma, I think it is time I go out and find you a new daddy."

"What?"

"What kind of daddy do you prefer."

"WHY?"

"Well, My master plan is to find you a new daddy and then HE can teach Shane how to drive."

"I think you're ganna have to do it mom."

"DAMMIT."

FLASH FORWARD

Shane is strapped into the drivers seat and I am calmly sitting in the passenger seat. Telling myself to portray confidence and calmness.

What I was thinking is: "THIS IS SO FUCKED UP, THIS IS SO FUCKED UP."

"Okay son. You ready?"

"No."

"You can do this. Are you ready?"

"I mean. I guess."

"YOU ARE READY! Be confident, like me! Look at me being all confident and shit!"

He turned and looked at me. His eyes were nervous and his laugh was too.

We stared at each other and laughed together for a moment. "We can do this!" I whispered

"Okay. I'm confident-ish" He turned and grabbed the wheel.

Before I continue with my story I need you to know that I am fully aware that I suck at teaching people how to drive. I AM aware of my faults you know. 

"OKAY! Lesson ONE. What are you driving?"

"...um...a Ford?"

"No. YOU are driving a killing Machine."

"Uhhhh"

"This machine kills people. Be aware of that. Do YOU want to kill people?"

"No?"

"No you don't. SO you are going to drive safely and slowly."

"Okay Mama" 

"Good boy"

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

"LESSON FIVE! What is that?" I said, pointing to the gravel on the side of the road

"Uh...rocks?"

"NO! That is gravel. Gravel is death. Don't hit it. Its like hot lava."

"Okay?" He said while laughing nervously

"HEY! Do you want to die?"

"No?"

"Then don't hit the gravel."

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

"LESSON 7 Everyone else is retarded. Remember that. You are the only smart one. Keep a look out for assholes and retards."

"Assholes and retards. Got it."

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

"LESSON 8 There is absolutely no point in speeding. It is stupid. People who drive too fast are reckless and unintelligent. If you speed then you get pulled over. Your ticket will cost you hundreds of dollars and you will be late to work. Think about it, is going too fast worth it? No. No its not.

Just go the speed limit, and fuck everyone else. Just ignore them and sing a little song about how you don't care that they are honking at you. Arrive alive."

"Go the speed limit, sing a song, Arrive alive. Got it."

"You're a good boy Shane."

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

I soon felt pretty comfortable with Shane driving, and I wasn't clutching the back of his headrest until my hand cramped up.

All of my directions sounded like childrens stories.

"Go over the creepy bridge, PAST the 'Where the wild things are' Trees and what do we do at the the blinky light?"

"At the blinky light, we turn right."

"Very good Shane! You are a good boy."

"You are a good mama."

Yesterday Shane drove off to work for the first time alone. I was worried. "Do you want me to drive behind you?"

"No mama."

"But do you feel confident?"

"YES mom."

"Okay son."

I'm still terrified.

Perspective.

I woke up this morning way too early and with the thought in my head that Dragons were breathing on me.



1. I was hot. I am fat and it was hot as dragon breath in my room.

2. How to train your dragon has been playing on repeat in my room for 3 days and in actuality it was the screeching of the movie that woke me, not a dragon bent on fatty blood.



I limped out to the coffee maker as quietly as I could. It was not children that I was afraid to wake...it was Karma. She has been experiencing excitement at an extreme level.



For instance when I wake up, she usually runs past me and over to the front door, looking at me excitedly while I growl at her and reach for my coffee carafe.



I'm sorry. COFFEE first. You pee SECOND.



Then I open the door for her and she dances outside and looks at me expectedly. Like I am going to frolic with her on the porch.



Or at night when I get home, she wags her tail so hard it practically touches her ears.



She misses our morning walks, and apparently me as well. Either that or she has dipped into the next door neighbors Meth Stash.



I miss her too.



When Emma wakes up I smile at her and she just stares at me and tries to become invisible. She knows that I want to hug her and she is uncomfortable with this lately.

Maybe its because of her boobs. Who knows.



Whatever the reason is, when I see a child that I personally squeezed out of the cavity of my body...I have an overwhelming urge to squish their body into mine, smell their hair and say something inappropriate...its sorta how I show my love.



I am touchy.



I love to feel bodies, clothing and love. I am 36 this is not going to change and it cannot be helped.

"Come here my little baaaaby" I say and reach my hands out to her.



She pouts, walks into my arms and sorta of plunks her head against my chest.



This is how 12 year old Emma shows love. She allows me to hug her. I have to just accept it and roll with it.



I squeeze her and Sing into her ear "Do you want me to dance for you?"



"No...NO...Please no."



I look affronted. Offended even "Why do you NOT want me to POP it, LOCK it and DROP it like it is hot?"



She laughs at me "That is not how it goes mom."


I move my hands very mechanically (If I do say so myself) and tilt my head "I look exactly like the girl on TV." I say in an amazed manner.



Emma covers her mouth. She is mortified at me. "No mom."



I laugh and let her go.



I have learned in the past year that something's take a bit of "thinking on" gathering information, taking a step back and putting things into perspective.

Thank YOU for ME.

I wrote this post a few months back, but didn't feel like I had a right to put it out there at the time.
_______________________________________________________________________________






My mom died today.


I did not know her well.


I do not know what perfume she preferred, or what her favorite color was.


I do not know the story of why my Father raised my sister and I, but whatever reason it was, I was never angry with her for the choices that she had to make in order to survive in her own story.




I have always known that sometimes, we have to make choices and decisions that others do not understand.


I have always felt that she did.




I have some memories of my mom, Always good ones.
I wasn't old enough to remember bad times or hold on to bad memories.




Maybe I have forgotten them.




I do remember her laugh. She had the best laugh that I have ever heard. It attracted me instantly to her the very first time that I heard it.


It was a laugh that was given with every inch of her.
Gritty, loud and real.
As a child, I wanted to blanket it around me.
I wanted to be the recipient of that laugh, and watch her eyes alight on me.




I remember visiting her when I was young and being in awe of how beautiful my mom was.
I took pride in that.
She was fun and beautiful and she laughed a lot.




I have not spoken to her in years, and yet when my sister told me of her passing...tears filled my eyes.


 Regret inevitably followed.


I couldn't put a name on why I was so sad. Why would I cry for someone that I did not know?My sisters sobs echoed my own.




"Why are we crying?" I mumbled into the phone


"Because...she gave us life. She was our mom." My sister replied.




It is sad.


And yet I hope that she finds peace at last.




I hope that whatever monsters or demons have chased her, have become slain by her passing.


I hope that she knows how thankful I am that she had me.
My sister.
US.

Courage.

cour·age

 the ability to do something that frightens one.

"she called on all her courage to face the ordeal"

 strength in the face of pain or grief.

"he fought his illness with great courage"

synonyms: bravery, courageousness, pluck, pluckiness, valor, fearlessness, intrepidity, nerve, daring, audacity, boldness, grit, true grit, hardihood, heroism, gallantry;

Ever since Caitlyn Jenner came out as transgender, I have ignored the memes, scrolled past the criticisms and wandered on to better  thoughts and ideas.

Everyone is entitled to their beliefs and thoughts. Me defending my own simply wastes my breath.

Today while having dinner with my children, I saw another and I said aloud, "fuck it, if they can spew their bullshit, well then so can I."

And that is what I am doing. If you are go  to be offended I don't give two fucks.

Caitlyn Jenner IS in fact courageous. SHE has come out to her family, which is hard enough. But she did it publicly and she did it that way for a reason. She wants to help other people like her.

I have been born and raised to be Patriotic. I have an entire wall in my home dedicated to my father and late Father in Law that shows their hard work and honor in defending their country.

I love my country and no matter who is leading it, I will support him because he is my president. I am honored that my family has had a part in defending it.

By saying that Caitlyn Jenner is courageous, this In no way diminishing the acts of courage that our soldiers endure each and every day.

To YOU, maybe Caitlin is not courageous. But to a million others she is.

To me she is.

She is the face of where the world is right now. And when people rant and rave about being pissed off at "The gays rights" all I can compare them to is the people who were furious about women's right to vote or the abolishment of slavery.

The world is evolving. Its people are evolving, as we have always done. You have two choices. Acceptance and education or stay stagnant and angry.

As much as I love our military, the word courage does not only belong to them.

It takes courage to be bare to others.

It takes courage to be a single mom who will go a week and hardly eat so that her children have food.

It takes courage to walk into an AA meeting and come back again the following week.

It takes courage to start a new business and be responsible for another human beings livelihood.

It takes courage to leave an abusive relationship.

It takes courage to do many things.

This is not a competition. I can understand others people beliefs and thoughts on it and you are entitled to them. And so am I.