I Am My Kids' Mom

It's been such a long time since I last wrote that there are few people who will even read this. But I thought it might make sense to write anyway, because there are a few things I'd like to say.

First of all, I owe apologies to many people in my life. If I had it to do over again, I probably would have been more forthright in telling people how I felt. When people have hurt you, you don't do anyone any favors by not telling them. I've hurt some people myself, I admit. However, stewing in your own juices doesn't benefit anyone. Even when I have told some of the most important people in my life how I've felt, many times I didn't seem to be clear enough when I tried to tell them "you're hurting me." In the end, the one who suffered most was me. Maybe that's why I've always felt like an outsider.

Many of you know about the situation in which I find myself. The choices I made were mostly right under the circumstances, but looking back now a few of them I probably should have made differently. Many people who were supposed to love me failed me. They know who they are. Others have gone above and beyond the call of duty. They too know who they are.

The woman who wrote this blog doesn't really exist anymore. She was a tortured, strung-out, sarcastic and unhealthy human being who thought she was trapped in her life with no way out. When the cast and crew of the movie of my life is stripped away, what I'm left with is only one person. That person is the one who always mattered most - the mom.

No matter what else happens in this life, there is one thing I've done mostly right in this world. I've been a good mom. Not the world's greatest mom, but a good mom nonetheless. That is something that no one can take away from me. I am not perfect, I've stumbled along the way, but my children know how much I love them. And they are good kids because I didn't fail them. I have always done everything I can to love and protect them. I may have failed at many other things in life. But one thing is for sure - I am my kids' mom.

Posted by: OddManOut on 12/04/2007 at 2:49 PM | Comments (4) | Permalink

Taking a Break

Taking a break for a spell. Ya'll come back now, ya hear?

Posted by: OddManOut on 10/16/2007 at 1:40 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink

Dana from Dupont Circle

Back in the days of punk rock popularity, I knew a girl named Dana. In the late seventies, Dupont Circle was a renowned punk rocker hangout where she could frequently be found. The area has been through many changes since, but if you were cool and a punker, it was definitely the place to be seen. Dana, like many of the kids I went to school with, went through the phase of wanting to be considered a rebel. She was also my best friend throughout seventh grade. We were an unusual pair, Dana and I, but I always did like people who were a little different from me. And I admired her strength and style.

This period was before the years of my mother's antics, so things were rather normal at my house at the time. As we were getting to know each other, she would come over to my house to visit, and several times things would come up in conversation (that I practiced piano on a little upright in the basement, what my dad did for a living -- things like that). Always being one to share, I told her quite a lot about my life. But she seemed to keep a lot of her personal life to herself. And I always wondered why.

To this day I don't know exactly when things changed between us. For some reason, she started acting differently towards me. First it was just making smart remarks. After a while, she was bullying me with regularity. And boy she was relentless. So eighth grade was pretty much a washout for me, because being the little wimpy girl that I was (I know, hard to believe), I never told my parents and I didn't really know how to handle it. But I had a way out.

At that time in Fairfax County, the area was growing so fast that they were constantly redrawing the borders for the school district. Lucky for me, this happened when I was in eighth grade. What it meant was that I could stay at Robinson, which I hated, or I could go to Fairfax instead, beginning in ninth grade. Tired of being confronted with the knife fights between students and the apathy with which the principals (yes, there were several) handled the out-of-control student population's raging drug problems, I knew which way I was going. I had had enough of Dana from Dupont Circle. I wanted to go to school with kids who were actually happy and had a future. I was tired of being an outsider. Thankfully I got my wish.

Years later, it turned out that Dana and I met again. Having become a successful and popular kid with a much larger backbone, I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked up one day in my 12th grade English class and saw Dana walking in the door. She walked in with hesitation, actually looking a little nervous through her defiant, punk rocker facade. And she purposely took the seat right next to me.

After I left Robinson, I found out why Dana was so hesitant to share the details of her life. It turned out that her mother was a hard-core alcoholic, who kept the shades drawn to keep her problem private. Her father was never home, and apparently it was speculated that he spent most of his time either on the road or out with his friends (and presumably a more sober female companion). Now that we were in the thick of my years of dealing with the "kids" and my mother's and father's problems, I realized that in an odd twist of fate, she and I ended up having a lot more in common as the years went on. I guess you could say that we ended up traveling parallel paths.

So now that she was going to school with me again, the bad memories came flooding back. I should strike back! part of me thought. Now's my chance to get back at her for all the hell she caused me in eighth grade! It was much like in television shows where the protagonist is looking at an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. When it came down to deciding on whether to turn on her, I just couldn't do it. All I could see when I looked at her was the pain that she must have already been through. Her upbringing was much more troubled than mine, and suddenly the big hearted side of me took over. As she sat there next to me, looking at me with a mixture of fear and hope, I knew what I had to do. I didn't exactly roll out the red carpet from the Fairfax High welcoming committee, but I did fill her in on the cliques and watched over her for months afterward to make sure that she found her way. I guess that was the first time I realized that I was becoming a grownup.

Posted by: OddManOut on 6/21/2007 at 10:36 PM | Comments (2) | Permalink

All's Quiet On The Western Front

The next thing I noticed was how quiet and calm everyone is here. I'm just your average, supercharged East Coast bullhorn-wielding maniac compared to everyone here. I went to lunch right after I moved here and got a call on my cell phone. I guess I got into my conversation a little too loudly for the poor people at Burger King. I got shushed! At first I was horrified and caught a major attitude (I've always had plenty of that), but then I thought better of alienating my future community. I apologized sincerely, which seemed to satisfy the woman I had offended. I guess I hadn't noticed my megawatt volume until then. And I realized very quickly that people very rarely curse! I never did that too much anyway, and still slip back into my old habits once in a while. But the uncomfortable reception usually whips me right back into shape!

Posted by: OddManOut on 10/24/2005 at 9:40 PM | Comments (3) | Permalink