My cousin, gone at 32. You will be missed.

May 13, 2012 1 comment

Saturday night I lost a cousin due to an overdose.

It’s sad. It’s shocking, and as much as I hate to say it, it’s not completely unexpected.

My cousin was a first-class fuck up. Has been for as long as I can remember. In his latter teen years he was drinking like a fish, which is quite common for my family. The drinking part, not the teen-alcoholic part. He was involved in a car accident, of his causing, that resulted in the death of the other driver. He was convicted of vehicular manslaughter and DUI and was incarcerated.

When he came out he seemed like he was on the straight and narrow. Got a job, his own place, a girl. I thought things were looking up for him. Sadly I was wrong. He got his girlfriend pregnant and the relationship didn’t survive the pregnancy. After the baby though he appeared to be a happy, doting father. He had his visitations that took place at his parents house. They loved that baby boy so much. Any chance they could my aunt and uncle took their grandson even if their son wasn’t around to care for him. He was trying to get his life on track and was working often for the money he needed to help raise his kid. A very admirable action I felt.

Over the years of his young sons life my cousin and his baby mama fought. Volatile fights. The kind of fights that make you want to take off. He did that a few times.

Baby mama moved on, he was left behind. In a dead end job, a shitty apartment and a kid he got to see when it was convenient for her. He turned to drugs and more drinking. Getting caught doing meth landed him back in jail. So for the past year or so he’s been living his life on parole. Living in a town that’s unforgiving. That reminds him at every turn that he is a fuck up. Every friend is a negative influence of a life he can’t escape. Every corner, every business, every house in that neighborhood, a reminder… of a negative memory, a bad choice. So few moments of happiness in his short life.

I can only imagine the despair he must have felt. The unhappiness he lived with. My husband and I were talking. What if one of our children was grown and completely fucking up. Would we say “just let him deal with it.”?  I mean, they are grown right? What can ya do? My thinking now is that I hope I would be loving and willing to relocate my life to help out my kid. Even a grown kid. He just couldn’t get a leg up in this town he’s lived in since birth. Everyone knew his as a fuck up. He couldn’t do anything right. Meet a decent girl, get a good job, even have friends that would influence him in a positive way. This town was killing him. It was pulling him down and he was drowning him.

So back to drugs he turned. He was busted yet again and with this new charge of violating his parole he was heading back to jail. He had been staying at his grandma’s house. I’m guessing when you spend your money on drugs you can’t afford rent. Saturday morning she went down to wake him and couldn’t. She called his mother and asked her to come and wake his lazy ass up. My aunt arrived, and it was too late. He was gone and had been for a few hours. How horrifying to find your own son dead in your mother’s house! I’m sure his grandmother is going through all the “what-if’s” in her head. I feel that it was inevitable. I wish we could have done something. I wouldn’t even friend him on Facebook! He was a fuck up, and I like everyone else, judged him. I didn’t want that kind of drama in my life. I feel like such a bitch right now.

He is leaving behind his mother, father, older brother (the cousin I was closer to), son, and many cousins, aunts and uncles. It is a devastating loss to all the loved him. I hurt so much for their loss. I wish someone could have intervened long ago and got his life on the right track. Then again, maybe he wasn’t ready. You can’t truly help someone that isn’t ready to help themselves.

Visitation services are this Tuesday night and the funeral is Wednesday morning. I’m going to both. It’s going to be hard to see all those hurting faces. To see my aunt and uncle in their ultimate moment of pain and despair. Please pray (if that’s your thing) that I am able to find the words that help comfort them in their time of need.

He went and done did it. He’s kinda cute.

April 9, 2012 2 comments

Remember my lengthy post about our new puppy? Well, he went and did this:

Cute ain’t it? Little shit.

The dog story. Now that he’s here how do I get rid of him?

April 8, 2012 1 comment

I don’t know what happened to me. I saw this pic and my heart warmed a little:

I thought “I need these guys”. I thought they would be perfect for my boys. I liked that they were older, I liked that they were brothers. I guess I imagined that my oldest two boys would each have a dog to cuddle with, play with and walk. I clearly was in la-la land dreaming of shit that just isn’t going to happen.

 

So I took all three of them to meet the dogs. That didn’t work out too well. My kids are too rowdy and rambunctious for 5 year old persnickety dogs. From there, my kids knew that my rule of “You CANNOT have a dog until you are 18 and moved out of this house!” had changed. I took them to K-mart and bought them some toys to ease the blow.

 

That didn’t last that long. Later that night we were searching for dogs on Petfinder.com. After talking with many people we decided to adopt a lab. We found a little guy about an hour away that was just 9 weeks old and already neutered. Not too cheap though, $200.00. I figure the cost is worth the fact that I don’t have to get him fixed and worry about dealing with all that drama. He’s already had all his shots too that he can have at this age.

Fast forward a month later. I hate this mutha-fucking dog. I don’t like dogs. Never have. I should have known better. I told the kids over and over since they were old enough to ask that we are never getting a dog! Damn Jamie for posting pics of those cute dogs that got me thinking I could handle this in the first place.

 

He does all the things puppy’s do. Nothing unusual here. Chews on shit (including my dining table and matching bench), pisses and shits in various places in the house, etc. This I can handle. This I expected. My boys were overwhelmed the first few weeks but they tried not to let it show because they desperately wanted to keep this dog. They knew it would be their responsibility. About after a week my oldest broke down into a sobbing mess of a boy. I knew what was wrong.

He had been walking the dog every 30 minutes! He was exhausted! But we felt it was important for him to understand the gravity of the situation. That the dog he wanted is a lot of work. Now that he understood that hubby and I decided that we could step in and help out a bit. By no means, do it all, just help out. Lighten the load a bit if you will.

 

Now a month later, my oldest doesn’t ever want to walk the dog. He just wants to tie him up to his chain outside. He never wants to play with him because he bites. However, he does NOT want to get rid of the dog. Fuck that. I’m done. He’s not dedicated. He’s not willing to put in the work to create a dog that’s loving and obedient instead of rowdy and undisciplined. So what will I do about it? My contract from the shelter says I can’t give him away, sell him, etc. That if we no longer want the dog I have to return him to their facility.

 

My husband and oldest want to keep him. Myself and my middle one are ready for him to go. I don’t feel that the few minutes a day that they enjoy him is worth the time and money spent and yet to be spent on him. It’s just not working out. Maybe with obedience school the boys would learn to be assertive with him and he would learn to be obedient. Who knows. He really seems to have a strong dominant personality that makes him very stubborn. You’d think he was one of us!

Here’s the crux of the matter. My hubby was recently out of state for 3 days and during that time the dog tried to assert himself as the alpha male. He went buck ass crazy around this piece. He snarled at my kids, growled at my mom and nipped at anyone that came at him. Meaning every time the boys tried to put his leash on he went fucking crazy. The boys were getting scared. This dog has already doubled in size and I just don’t think they will be able to handle him as he gets bigger and bigger. They would run from him to avoid getting mauled and he thought they were playing and kept coming at them. I was done with him. I hated him at this point. I am not going to feel scared of a puppy in my own fucking house.

 

Friday I emailed the shelter to explain the current situation. I don’t want him. I have found people interested in him, but I am bound by that contract right? It’s not like they really have the funds to finance a lawsuit if I did sell or give the dog away. Am I that kind of girl? Yeah, I am.

 

Either way I will wait to hear back from them. Hopefully they will have a great solution for me. I’m hoping they will list him back on their site and state that he is in foster care. That would work for me!

 

MORAL OF THIS STORY: ALWAYS GO WITH YOUR GUT. If you think the love your kids will have for a pet will overshadow your doubts, think again.

I miss my booze buddy.

February 17, 2012 1 comment

I am sick to death of fucking prudes! Where are all my booze hounds at?

So I may be a lush. I enjoy drinking. I like hanging out with other mom’s that enjoy a drink to kick back and talk shit about our lives, our hubbies, our kids.

I swear I’m surrounded by stupid ass prudes.

“You watched Breaking Dawn? I could never watch that! It would give me nightmares for weeks! You let your kids watch that too? OMG!”

Really? Fuck you and take your ass back to church.

A good friend/drinking buddy of mine moved away a few months ago and I’m finding that my refuge at her house is really fucking up my mojo. I’m a bit bitchier knowing I can’t just sneak off to her house for a bit of shit talking and a blender full of alcoholic goodness.

I have a feeling that the women I’d really hit it off with would be a bunch of loud mouth bitches. Yep, we’d cozy up around a counter of chips, dip and beer. Yaaahhhhh, that’s the life.

“Your kid taught my kid a curse word. I explained to my kids that that’s just the way they were raised.”

Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Yes I cuss around my kids, so does my hubby. But guess what? So do many TV shows, damn near every movie we see, not to mention all the music we listen to. So yeah, my kids are exposed. I’d rather them be exposed and know what the words are than to be completely fucking naive and be shocked when they hear that shit! I don’t want them to ever not know something because they were sheltered. Believe me, being the last one to “get it” sucks.

My booze buddy comes to town on Monday along with her brood. I’m so excited to see her but we will also be with many other mommas and their little ones. Which isn’t terrible, just impersonal. Many of the attending mom’s don’t drink and they would never ever cuss. Ha! Funny shit.

So commiserate with me while we clink bottles and imagine life without prudes. As for me and my beer? We say good night.

 

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