Cheer your government

Sometimes government interventions and assistance are necessary. Government was created BY The people, FOR the people. Moving our government is not the answer,

it is a request for CHAOS. If changes are to be made, said changes should be made to the laws that govern the people FAIRLY. Removing our government is like throwing the baby out with the bath water.
No quick fix is going to work when it comes to the reconstruction of our government. If you stand on the sidelines and mutter to ourselves the team is never going to win we need to be standing in the bleachers screaming our asses off about what out common goal is GO! FIGHT! WIN!
Same with our government. When we (THE PEOPLE) speak loudly and clearly about what we need the team (LAWMAKERS) can enact game plays for a better outcome. If they start to falter in the 3rd quarter we don’t give up and abandon our team. We keep on cheering. If we lose the game, we come on back for every single Friday night until our team succeeds in doing their best toward that common goal GO! FIGHT! WIN! And we come back next season to press for greater success.
It is the ONGOING support and constructive criticism of our government that makes our country what it is. Right now, we are acting a bunch of Sacramento Kings fans who quit our team mid-season (MIDTERM) because we don’t have enough “W”‘s on our stats.

Pull it together america and cheer for your team. We are all pulling for the same thing… GO! FIGHT! WIN!

Cheer our government part deux

What solutions do we have America?

*steps onto soapbox*
Our country’s debt is an issue yes, but families living in their cars and on the streets is a far more important issue. Finding a way to reduce other country’s need to call the US for aid is one and having a willingness to give a diplomatic “NO” when we should not be helping them as a primary source is another. If private businesses and contractors want to find their way in to help sobeit, but we need to focus more on what’s happening at home.
We should support our president no matter how we feel and stop spitting negative shit about what we think he ain’t doing. We have to start at the bottom and help one another. We have to start at the community level with volunteering in schools where kids not only need to learn to read and write, but also need to learn what foods are good for them and what they can actually grow themselves. We need to look out for our elderly and not depend on government subsidy checks to help us care for them when they are old and unable to care for themselves. Lord knows we won’t have social security when we get to be that age so practice now is a good idea. Families need to come back together in multiple-family homes to help our single moms and dads with Childress while they gonto school or work.

So what I’m saying is…

Our issue is not a financial one at the heart. It is a CULTURAL one and the more we recognize what we can do for each other the more we will “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR COUNTRY!!”

*steps off soapbox*


Complicated Melody

Music serves to soothe. When I am having a hard day at school or when I argue with my roommate it helps me to back away from my “stinkin’ thinkin’.” I self-talk when upset and will be carried away with my thoughts. When carried away I will speak from my current state of mind and wind up having to apologize for things that I did not take the time to think about later. When I am trying to clear my head, I will listen to anything from Mozart to Michael Jackson to James Taylor. My goal in using music is to slow down my mind so that I can focus and protect the feelings of those who encounter me. Music also connects to my feelings and allows me to connect with those who are not in my life for the time being. One person that I remember often through music is my Dad.
He passed away 9 years ago and not a day goes by when I do not think of him. My dad loved music as much as I do. Some of his favorite musicians were Stevie Wonder, Donny Hathaway, Otis Redding and even Too $hort! (My Dad used to drive around in his green Volvo playing “The Ghetto.” Everyone in the neighborhood heard him coming.” When he passed away, it was sudden. There was no opportunity to say goodbye. There was no time for me to mourn as I was suddenly thrust into the position of being “the strong one.” I had to answer questions for people, discuss things with relatives, help pick out coffins, get his uniform together, and keep my Mom from jumping off a cliff. In addition to this, I had just left my husband and was renting an apartment away from my home and raising my son and teenaged niece. Suffice it to say, my life was a whirlwind of activity. My Dad had two funerals. One Sacramento and one in Mobile, Alabama. I spent some time there upset because I was not able to sing at my Dad’s funeral, as no one knew that I could sing. My cousin sang “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” and it was beautiful. I was sad because I did not speak up when I could have so I could sing. Realizing that it was my own doing, I accepted my fate, bid farewell to the family and came home.
I stayed “the strong one” until I heard Stevie Wonder’s “Overjoyed” while driving. I remembered how much my dad loved to snap his fingers and sing along with Donny and Stevie with the stereo turned up to “10.” I remembered what I missed about him and fell to tears. For me, it was a healing experience because I had been working so hard to hold it together for the sake of keeping everyone else from falling apart. At least that is what I thought. It turns out that I was avoiding tears because I felt they would confirm that he was gone and I would have to move on without him. What I discovered that day was that music is something that brought my Dad and me closer together than any of my siblings. We had our music and that was ours alone. A song my Dad never got to hear, but reminds me of him every time I hear or sing it, is “Complicated Melody” by India Arie. I would have enjoyed singing it at his funeral. My favorite part of the song is “if he were an animal, he’d be an ass. ‘Cuz he’s so stubborn sometimes.” So many parts of this song describe him. His favorite color is green, he is stubborn as a mule, and he loved to cut a rug with my mom when the oldies would come on the stereo. He will always be a miraculous wonder to me and I will never forget our connection through music. Coping through music has allowed me to grow stronger continue to preserve his memory.

“Complicated Melody”

If he were a color
He’d be a deep dark forest green
If he were a car
He’d be a long stretch limousine
With room for all of humanity inside
Cause he is so giving
And he is so wise
If he were a number
He’d be a five cause he has such a brilliant mind
If were an animal
He’d be an ass cause he’s so stubborn sometimes

But if he were a song
He’d be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key

But he means the world to me

If he were a building
He’d be a beautiful cathedral
Cause he’s so traditionally spiritual
If he were a dance
He’d be complicated like the tango
Exotic like a mango

But if he were a song
He’d be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key

But he means the world me

He ain’t the reason for the sun and the moon
He is the reason for this here tune

Cause he means the world to me (ooh ooh)
Said he means the world to me
Me me me yeah
He means the world to me yeah

Complicated melody that complicated fellow
He’s a complicated melody
I almost can not sing it on key


give me fair education… or give me death!

…Change is coming to many underrepresented minority students but that change is slow to happen. the more teachers who understand the demographics of the students they are teaching. there are many children who need the guidance of a teacher who understands them not just on a performance and academic level, but also on a level of cultural development.By seeing the child not just as a unit open to growth, but as a person who can change not only their world with a quality education, but the world around them and beyond.

My little man of the house and i never designated him as one

*the goddess is cleaning out her post closet*

i asked Milo if it was okay if i have a boyfriend and he said yes. i said is it okay if it is Paul? he said yes. then i hear this voice in a crying jag from the back seat “oh lord! my little mommy has a boyfriend!” i nearly drove off the road i was laughing so hard! i love that boy!
that boy is hilarious. i am glad he got his Cali style humor from his momma. otherwise he would be Woody Allen funny and I’m not too into that kind of humor.
now he is calling his dad to tell. Milo: “i am calling you to inform you on your curiosity quest”. “what were you asking mom about?” “well. i was correct, and yes the answer to that question would be yes.” (this is were his dad starts asking all kinds of questions) “now don’t feel bad.” “okay… okay… not really… well… to inform you… i don’t know…okay… bye”

then he continues to eat his dinner.

My son wanted to break the news to his dad because he knows it would take me about 2 seconds to start cussing him out. I LOVE my son. Thank you God for giving me a kid with such a good and old soul.

Motherhood… How I love thee… Part #trois

so goes the rest of the saga. i let Milo out from the abusive blathering of his father to walk him out of the house. i snooped around the corner at the cat tower because i wanted to hear what he had to say.
the conversation pretty much goes like this:
Dad: what you did waswrong Milo and i am not happy with the way you have been acting lately
Milo: (silence)
Dad: i have always treated you like a friend and i am not not going to be able to do it that way. like i said before i am going to have to come down harder on you and i don’t want to do that
Milo: (sighs)
Dad: do you want me to give you what i gave you today? (backhanded slap)
Milo: no
Dad: okay so just remember… what you did today has tarnished our relationship and i don’t think it will ever go back to the way it was. i love you and even though you are my biological son, i have begun to love you less and am sure how much longer i can be a part of your life if you continue to do what you are doing.
Milo: (silence)
his dad walked away without giving Milo a hug or telling him he loved the boy. what he did say was
“Stop fucking up!” as he walked to his car.

some days i really want to just find a dark hole to put that man in forever. i don’t get how he thinks that the actions of a 9 year old boy is going to end a relationship that sucks anyway. you are supposed to love your children unconditionally regardless of the facg tht ehy mess up. there is a reason why we as parents spend our time and precious energy teaching our children right from wrong and sacrificing for better outcomes for our children.
i am confused as to why he would even think to elevate the child to the level of an equal with him and then drop bombs on him.

dad needs a sedative and my son needs a father.


Motherhood… How I love thee… Pt. Deux

Sooo… The father who threatened to beat his son’s f**king ass in front of the sheriff decides that I can’t have a moment alone to hash out the story with my son away from the emotion charged attention paid to the situation by him. He decides he wants to listen in and I continue with my run through of the situation at hand. I know how it goes… You already have the story, but you want to hear the child’s version of it.
I shot the man a few “if you can’t say anything nice…” looks and he restrained himself but not forint. He decided he could handle no more and broke into the conversation about how doing things like he did that day could land him in jail.
His father went on to explain what happens to people in the penal system be it juvenile or adult. He said that if he went to jail, Milo would for sure find himself someone’s boyfriend. You can just hear the gears turning in this boys mind. His father then goes on to tell Milo in quick succession before I get a chance to throw my damn shoe at him that men get fucked when they go to jail. Yes he used the word “fucked” I think I missed the throwing of the final wrench into Milo’s mental gears because I was too busy trying to pick my jaw up off the floor. He said to Milo, literally, that men get fucked in prison and asked his son if he wanted another man’s dick in his ass…. Yeah he said it JUST… LIKE… THAT… I guess when you have a 14 or 15 year old who is sliding off track you can be as graphic as Milo’s dad was but uh, this child is 9!!! What an idiot. By the time I picked my jaw up off the floor and picked the cat hair out of my teeth, Milo had come to the conclusion that all men in jail were GAY!!!!!
Criminy !!!
to be continued…..

Motherhood… How I love thee…

So here’s the story on Milo’s errant behavior. Milo decided to leave the house while I was taking a nap against my wishes. he and a “friend”went to a neighborhood home and got into a bit of mischief.
Milo and the neighbor kid down the street broke into an empty home and proceeded to light fires on the stove.
I know been there done that simple. kids. door unlocked. Break in. gas still on. lighting things on fire. fine. but no. that’s not how it went down in this case. the kid down the street decided that he would take a rock and pitch it through the glass sliding door!!!!
While the boys are inside lighting fires the guy who was cutting the grass. By the way, the house was not abandoned it was merely vacant; called the cops and the cops came out and busted the kids.
I got a call during my catechism class from J telling me the cops had the boy. What possesses children to do things like this is beyond me. However I had to remain calm and calm did I remain until I spoke to the ex-husband. He immediately launches into how good a father he is because he would NEVER EVER EVER allow something like this to happen while Milo was under his care.
Yeah I stayed calm and listened to his ranting as I prepared my class for a last minute sub who would take over. While I’m doing this, I get a call from the sheriff asking me if o could come pick up Milo because he did not feel safe releasing Milo to his father. Apparently the father of my child rolled up on the scene screaming and hollering about how he was going to “beat your fucking ass”. Not too bright sayeth the ex wife. The sheriff was bent out of shape over the idiotic entrance of my intrinsically asinine asshole former spouse….
To be continued