Am I My Brother's Keeper?


It’s hard to address a subject like this one. Worldwide, there are people who have coupled with someone they are displeased with for one reason or another. Yes, we adore one another during the whirlwind romance. We rip each others clothes off whilst in the throes of passion. And then domestic life settles in. We eat more than we should. Laze around on weekends more than we should. We drink too much, eat too much rich (and yummy) food. But when you choose a partner, you choose them for who they are and who they aren’t. The scary thing is that you probably have only a tiny inkling of who they are. It's a foundational lesson to grasp that when you are in a relationship, this does not give you the right to decide how the other person should be. If you have chosen someone who doesn’t suit you, that is your own damn fault. So my first advice would be to take great care in making a lifelong commitment with someone!

But apart from this, I think we need to seriously consider what we see as “acceptable” and “desirable” in a person. We happen to live in a society that worships physical beauty and doesn’t value the real and true things about a person. We compare our mates to others. We compare ourselves to others! In fact, I think this is the real root of the problem. A person who is constantly critical of their mate is likely overly critical of themselves. And they are fucking pissed off that their mate is comfortable with their flaws! "How dare they! I walk in misery, constantly striving for unattainable perfection, and they just lie there sleeping well through the night? Why aren’t they up, trying to improve themselves?" It’s a sick world, I tell you.

The fact is that if you have a healthy love for self, you are on the right track. First, you must be a good mate in order to find a good mate. Then, you must be reasonable about the person you choose to spend time with. And why you choose them. If you like spending time with one another, sharing mutual respect and consideration, that’s the large part of it. Of course, there needs to be attraction... chemistry. But chemistry is unreliable. It can’t be depended on to last through the years because it involves too many variables. And things change. We change. We all do. This is not a bad thing. I once heard that a woman marries a man expecting him to change and a man marries a woman expecting her not to. And they are both doomed to disappointment. So, let's just try not being a dumbass about it. Mind your own body. It's the only one that belongs to you.

And So It Goes...

Yes, it was Becky Jo's birthday this last weekend. She turned twenty. You may recall Becky Jo from a few posts ago in a Christmas video. She's such a sweetie pie. Here is a picture of her doing her part in carrying the weight of the world.Becky has always been a pleasure to know. She's just one of those people who brightens up a room and leaves it a little darker when she exits. She and my son, Brady, have always been close friends. Here is a picture of them together from a few years ago. They've both gotten older, but I think the difference in height is still the same. Hee hee.



Which leads me to the introduction of BRADY'S OWN BLOG! Yes, my friends... my son has entered the blogosphere and I would like to invite each and every one of you to visit his new space. Give a little hello and visit often. I think you'll be glad you did!

Nice Guys Finish Last?

Recently, one of my baby mamas broke my youngest son's heart. She told him she was no longer in love with him. This has been no fun. At any rate, they have split now, but he still spends daily time with his most precious darling baby girl, Alexa Jade.

Brady has been posting at his myspace blog and I asked for permission to post some of his quotes here.

He has this to say about this hard time:

Thank Heaven for Little Girls

... you gotta try and stay positive because life will go on remember? Fortunately, I have my daughter around to help me. She doesn't really know it but I talk to her for hours while she sleeps. It's kinda my therapy. But there's also when she's awake, we hang out and play and that's where the real magic happens. She reminds me of all the good things in this world, the reasons to be thankful you're alive and breathing, to be thankful for hugs and kisses and laughter. So it's getting better with time.


But this one especially touched me:

Nice Guys Finish Last

It always seems like no matter how kind you can be in life, people still screw you over without even thinking about it. But you know what, when I'm dead and gone I want people to remember who I was as a person. How giving I was, how thoughtful I was, how much I cared, how forgiving I was and overall I want people to think of me as an amazing person. Now I'm not saying that everyone will think that because I'm not the best person out there, but I am the best I can be. So people who are ass holes in this world might seem to get ahead in life. They get the girl, the job, the car. But to me all that means nothin. What really matters is the impact you have on people's lives. So my saying is "nice guys finish last...but they have the greatest endings." Personally, I would rather have that being said about me than the so called "achievements" I had in life by walking all over people. Life's not about how far you get but the impact you leave on the people you were around throughout your life.

All The Pretty Kitties


This is Amy.

She is my little "Juno" friend from the earlier post about teen pregnancy. She sent me an email and I asked if she minded if I shared it with y'all. She said she would be honored. Amy is now 22 years old. Her daughter, Abby (pictured here) is six.


Teri~

My Mamma Kitty. I just read your blog Where Have All The Young Girls Gone. I think it's really cool that you mention me in it.

It was all you that helped me make my decision. I never felt pressured or judged by you. You gave me all options and supported me with whatever I decided. (like any mother should). I remember the day you came to my rescue like it was yesterday. My mother and Suzanne kidnapped me taking me to Park City to talk me out of getting an abortion. I felt horrible having to tell my mother that I was pregnant. You, with no questions asked drove up to Park City and took me out to dinner. Told me your story of getting pregnant young and how you felt and your fears. It is the greatest feeling in the world when you (a parent) opened up to your child and tell all because you have been there too. You made me feel so much better, so calm. I knew then what I wanted to do. That night you gave me a necklace, of a gold heart. It was your heart, it symbolized how much you loved me and how you would always be there for me. I wore it for years and still have it. Everytime I see it, I think of that night and how much you saved me.

I loved the movie Juno but for at least a week I was a little off. It was all too real for me and when I saw it, I had Abby with me so that made it even more off-putting. It was weird looking at Juno being 16 and pregnant and saying to myself look how young she looks. And then saying to myself oh my gosh, I looked that young. Watching Juno go get the abortion and backing out. Telling her parents.... Then the process of adopting the child out. In the end when everything starts going wrong and she breaks down and cries. I could feel that same ache in my heart it was so strong. Your heart hurts so bad and you feel it breaking and tearing apart. From that moment on you would never be the same.

I love you Mamma Kitty thank you for being such a gift in my life.

Love Amy

Where Have All The Young Girls Gone?

When I was twenty, I became pregnant. Impregnated. With child. This also happened when I was eighteen. I had decided that time to have an abortion, but miscarried before I had to consider it seriously. This time, there was nothing to consider. I was going to have a baby. I thought no further than that. There was no fear. No anxiety or trepidation of any kind. I was at complete peace.

It was simply not bad news to me. I have no idea why. I barely even liked children. In fact, when I walked by children playing, I would shudder. I’m not kidding. I hated babysitting children when I was younger. I had no desire to have a family. No desire to even have a husband. I didn’t really have any plans, but my desire for my life was basically to have a job, a car, an apartment, and lots of freedom!

So why wasn’t this bad news? Again, no fucking idea.

The ONLY bad part was that I would have to tell my parents. My parents would DIE. I was sure of it. They didn’t have any specific plans for me, but as parents, they certainly knew that having a child would set a tone for my future that would probably make for a great hindrance.

From the moment that child was born, my life was changed. That instant. That terrible and hard delivery brought forth a child that created a force in me that has not stopped stirring since.

The delivery was so exhausting, and I had been so ill with toxemia, that the nurses couldn’t even hand him to me. They had to set him on a stand next to me. I feebly reached out my hand to hold his and the energy of that touch was the greatest thing I had ever felt. I was nearly twenty-one. And that will be twenty-seven years ago this July 10.

He is my first born son. And he is amazing. He changed my life. And I have never once… not for one moment… thought of him as a hindrance to anything. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I have a close friend whose daughter became pregnant at sixteen. She was struggling with whether or not to get an abortion. She asked me what I would do if I were her. I said, “You know what I did when I was you!” But I went on to tell her plainly that there is nothing in the world as wonderful as rocking your baby. Nothing as amazing as watching her become a young lady and get ready for her first prom. And nothing as horrifying as finding out she was killed in a car accident that night. I told her there was no one who could tell her what to do, because these were things she herself was going to have to choose, and she herself would have to live through. That whatever she decided to do, I would support her in her decision. She spent a good month talking with friends and relatives about her options. She chose adoption.

The movie JUNO brought all of this back to mind. Very emotional for me to watch. The thing that happened to my little friend was almost identical to what happened with Juno. The people backed out, six weeks before the baby was due. She was devastated. She would not even attempt to try to find another family she felt she could trust to deserve her precious gift. So she decided to keep the little one. And precious she is. Adored by so many.

When my youngest son, at eighteen, told me his girlfriend was pregnant, how could I respond with anything but supportiveness? That baby has changed his life.

All of these children changed lives. And will continue to do so.

Does this mean I encourage teenage pregnancy? That I think the pact that the girls in the news made to have babies en masse is a good idea? Of course not. In fact, if you sat down and talked with me, you would soon discover that I do not encourage pregnancy for anyone at all! I still am not of a mind that everyone should have babies. That every woman should think of herself as incomplete until she’s a mother. That every man should think himself incomplete until he has a family. What wretchedness that sort of thinking brings. I’ve watched people fall to pieces in agony, just hoping for offspring. Children do not complete us. They are the manifestation of creative energy. They are the continuance of life. The outpouring of spirit.

And they are themselves. Not an extension of us.

When Is The Last Time You Felt Like This?

My niece, Becky Jo, has the sweetest boyfriend in the world. For Christmas, he gave her an ipod, with this home-made video loaded onto it. Along with a note that said, "press play."


Honest to God... as it was passed around for all to see, every woman in the family was brought to tears.

And here is another of their shorts that I watch whenever I am down and really need to laugh. That girl has the most contagious laughter! She'll soon be twenty. And I can't believe that I get to be her auntie!

Auntie's Brag Book

Graci is my niece.

Her mommy is my baby sister.

I adore them both.





Graci is the sweetest and most darling girl. She’s got a feisty temper, but when she cries it will melt your heart. She is always someone I can count on coming by to see me when I fly home for a visit. She is often there waiting at my parents house. No matter how late my flight comes in.

Once, when I answered the door, she was just crying her little heart out. She grabbed me and hugged me so tight, her body shaking from the weeping. She was dating a guy who, at one point, said he wanted to date other people. Which is fine. I mean they are young. (Graci is 22.) But the dumbshit doesn’t really know what that means. She had asked him if he wanted to hang out and do something that night and he said he had a date! A date! I just don’t get it. When you are dating other people, you don’t TELL them you can’t see them because you have a date with someone else! I know you guys are cute, but no one is THAT cute! It’s important to be sensitive. I don’t mean you have to lie. You can just say you have plans. You are busy. Whatever. But… I have a date???!!

So I took her shopping. Yeah, that’s what aunties do when their nieces are sad. Well this auntie takes you to the sex shop to buy something sexy. We picked out a few things and she went to try them on. At one point, I brought her out to the sales clerk and I said, “Look at this! Can you believe that the guy she’s dating said he can’t see her tonight because he has a date with someone else!” He said, “Who the hell does he have a date with… a supermodel?” I bought her the outfit. And I got her some really great high-heeled fuck-me shoes to go with it! I put one condition on the outfit. HE was never allowed to see it. She could show it off to any man in the world, except that one.Anyway, that was just one story of Graci. She went to culinary school in San Francisco. This was so hard on her, as she’d never been far from home. We are a very close family. My granddaughter (the first one to be born among us sisters) was born, Graci wasn’t there. This was very hard on her. When she came to visit on Thanksgiving, BrynLeigh was two months old. I will never forget the sight of Graci when she first saw that baby. She walked into the room, saw Bryn in her little seat and Graci just started to cry. Every emotion that she’d had while away from family was brought to the surface at the sight of that little face. Absolutely precious.

At any rate, Graci doesn’t just cry all the time. She’s vivacious and fun. She enters the room like a whirlwind. She’s impossible to ignore. And she has the greatest taste in clothes. Always unique and personalized... and she wears fun stuff like this:



Graci is now a very hard working, early rising girl who makes pastries at a bakery. I love going in to see her and she always gives me very special attention and something yummy to eat. She’s my little darling and I adore her!

I’ve always referred to Graci and my daughter as “the twins.” They are so much alike. It is their fault that I love Spongebob Squarepants. People had told me to watch the show and I tried. I just didn’t think it was funny. But one day, Erin and Graci started acting out scenarios between Spongebob and Patrick. Oh. My. God. I could have died laughing! And now when I watch the show, I think I actually think it’s THEM acting the parts! (But I don’t like Sandy… the Squirrel on the show. She bugs me. Wonder who could play her part and make me like it.) Erin and Graci are so much fun just to watch interact. I used to joke that we need to create a sitcom called “The Erin and Graci Show.” (This was several years ago, when Graci was a brunette. But when they laugh, you gotta laugh with them!)

So… this summer, Graci may be moving to Los Angeles to live with Erin. This would be so good for her. She does not belong in the middle (or the top, as we call it) of Utah. Not at all. She’s a California girl. That’s all there is to it. As homesick as she was, she had loved living in San Francisco and I know she’d love L.A. Plus, she and Erin would have so much fun! The twins, back together again! So if you see these girls in your wanderings, you’d just better get outta the way! Cause they haul ass to have fun! They love life and they are living every minute of it! Or, if you can keep up, you can join the parade! (That's Graci in the middle, and on the right is Becky Jo. The Becksta! She's another of my nieces, and just as worthy of adoration. I will write about her next time! The fella on the left is George, Becky's soulmate.)

You May Be Right ~ I May Be Crazy


You know what I love about my kids? Not one of them is insecure about who they are. None of them goes about seeking approval. There really is nothing more that I could want for my children. They have hard knocks, of course. And it kills me. You always wish you could protect your loved ones from having to go through any amount of pain. Which is an odd mechanism we have, because we all know that it’s during the painful times that we really grow. Still… no fun.

Weird though. We want to deprive our children of the very thing that will develop a strong character. Fortunately, for them, we cannot actually accomplish this. If we could, we would wind up doing the opposite; creating a very unstable and insecure person who has no purpose. No purpose at all. I can’t imagine a more horrible type of imprisonment than that.

All of this self-confidence sounds very well and good, right? Well oddly enough, and as attractive as it is, I’ve found that others sort of bristle at this trait. They get pissed off because you are not miserable like they are. When someone tries to get you to do something “their” way and you refuse, people cry out, “Good for you!” But when THEY are the ones trying to get “their” way, it’s a whole different cry they make! They say, “Oh… so you think you are perfect? You think that just because I tell you that the way you are is not okay that you don’t have to listen?” To this I say, “Why the fuck would you want to tell me that I’m not okay the way I am???” And then they say, “Well no one is perfect.” So, let me get this straight. No one is perfect. And you think that because I say I don’t have to become the way you think I should be that I’m saying I’m perfect? And you also think that it’s your job to help me accomplish this perfection?

Seriously. Someone explain to me why this is made out to be a rational way of thinking.

Here’s what I say:

Society does very much try to impress its wily ways on us, so those of us who are parents try desperately to teach our children to have a strong enough character not to succumb to those ways. Those of us who are people just living in a society, try to spend our time strengthening our own characters so that those around us are not what we choose to let define us.

And who is society? Well we all like to think that society is “those evil forces around us.” When, in fact, society is us. I think it would be nice if we could stop behaving like the evil forces and make the positive difference.

Lexi in Converse Chucks!

This kind of cute is enough to kill a grandma who longs to squeeeeeeeze her!

Gramma Loves



So I went to see the movie, 3:10 to Yuma this weekend. Super good movie. Very thought provoking and full of insight into the lives of men. Not a lot about women, but that’s okay. What little there was about women was good. But I like the study of men. There was a serious struggle on the part of one of the main characters, played by the most excellent and superb Christian Bale. A father whose son sees him as a weakling. As a man who is unwilling to fight in the way the boy thinks a man should. And in the course of the story, the boy finds out a lot about the hardness of life. Russell Crowe is wonderful, as was expected. And full of his own demons (and angels). Highly recommended by the cathouse.

Got a call yesterday morning that my baby (The Sweet Light That Shines) was in the hospital. Her tummy was hard and distended and they discovered she had three days worth of food in her system. Not a good thing. They took x-rays. The nurse said to her, “We’re going to take a picture of your belly, okay?” Bryn says, “Oh goodie!” (Loves having her picture taken.) Nurse says, “Go stand over there and we’ll take the picture.” Bryn says, “Stand on the square?” “Yep.” (Anyone who has been around my blog for long, knows how fucking seriously Bryn takes her fucking shapes!) She stands on the square and says, “Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez!”

Then the doctors and nurses tortured her for awhile, taking blood tests and stool samples and inserting catheter and giving enemas. Poor thing. Makes me cry. I asked her mommy if she was scared and she said, “Yes, she’s was crying a lot.” Then went on to tell me that, at one point, they wanted to take another picture of her tummy, but she had to lie down on a table this time and a machine was going to roll over top of her. This upset her immensely and she didn’t want to cooperate. The nurse said, “If you sit still for the picture, I’ll give you as many of these stickers as you want!” Bryn says, “Can I have three of them?” (God love the little children. They think three is a lot.) Nurse says, “Of course you can have three!” Bryn adds, “Because I’m three!” And then, “Can I have the princess sticker? Because I’m a princess! Huh, mom, I’m a princess.. huh?” (nodding)

And she is. A real princess. Which is cool. We all think our daughters and granddaughters are princesses, but this one really is. So there.

She's okay now. Her mommy took her home after about twelve hours in the hospital. (They got her all cleaned out.) They wanted to keep her a little longer, just to be sure she was eating okay. Mommy said, "I can do that at home." I wish I was a brave mommy like that when I was her age. I thought doctor's were the bosses of me back then.

Also, if you all recall, a few months ago my other baby (The Precious Pearl) was going to move in with me, but events went a different direction. Now, plans are in order to get The Sweet Light and her mommy moved in with me at the end of November. Yay us!

POSTSCRIPT: BrynLeigh's daddy (Jake) just found out today that his wife is having a boy. I told Bryn's mommy (Tiny) and she advised Bryn that she's gonna have a baby brother. Bryn said, "It's my brother not yours, k?"

Can't You Hear the Angels Callin'?

So yeah, I'm not really gracious at all. For instance, I have been exposed to the web world for a number of years. My profiles say that I'm in a relationship. Yet I still get contacted by men who say, "yr my kind of women u want a fuck buddy?"

I have a myspace account. All my old-school IT friends turn their noses up at me. They say myspace is for perverts and lame-ass uncreative people who don't know enough to make their own web pages. Well, it's entirely possible that I fit into BOTH of those categories.

But my experience with myspace has been very positive. Even though I still get the idiotic messages asking for a poke. Here is what I recently added to my profile, in hopes of deterring said messages.
Calling all dumbfucks! If you are a dumbfuck and perusing my profile, by all means, please do ignore the fact that I am in a relationship and send me a message advising me that you are looking for a woman. It goes over very well with me.

Not exactly gracious. Hee.

I started up a Myspace account at the prompting of my youngest son. But it turned out to be a really neat way to keep in touch with my nieces and the young people I know, as well. I have spent a life around young people. Honestly. I didn't mean for it to be this way. When I was a young woman of eighteen or twenty, I would walk by children playing and just shudder. I mean shudder! I did NOT want to have THOSE in my life. Apparently, the powers-that-be had other plans for me. I mean yes, I did get pregnant. And I had no problem at all being happy about the pregnancy. And I adored that child. Still do. I got pregnant two more times, even! Once, on PURPOSE! Sheesh! But just because you have kids, doesn't necessarily mean you have to HAVE kids! My house is where the kids of the neighborhood hung out. My house is where working mothers brought their sick children when the daycare wouldn't take them. My house is where the parties were. Where the moms gathered for coffee, while the kids played in the back yard. My house was kid central!

I really loved all of those children. As I got older, my kids got older, right? But my damn friends would keep having kids! So there were always babies to rock. Toddlers to enjoy. And now that my friends aren't having children any more, my children are having children!

And I swear to you, when I walk down the street, if children see me, they follow me like I'm the fucking pied piper! God put some sort of mark on me. Maybe it's a sign that says, "Kick me," I dunno.

I know women who are mothers of grown children who say things like, "Wow! Look at that baby! It's been so long since I've taken care of a baby, I don't think I'd know how!" I have never uttered those words. Once, a friend came over to my house. My kids were all teens at the time and off doing their own thing. Her little four-year-old was bouncing around, being all precocious and darling. My friend says to me, "Don't you miss having little ones around?" I answer, "When exactly would I miss it?"

So back to Myspace. I knew many young people. When I got a divorce, most of their parents shunned me. So my auntie relationship with those kids disappeared. Until they found me on Myspace. :)

Now I enjoy that contact. These young people have helped me through some very hard times. They alway tell me how much they love me and how I rock and what a lovely inspiration I am to them! Food for the soul... food for the soul...

Clearly, in the plan, it was for my benefit that all of these were put into my life. I suppose they benefit, too. But I think I'm getting the best end of the bargain.

Por Ti Volare

I won't be posting for a few days. I think the sweet woman in this story deserves AT LEAST that from me. If you visit, it will be the same old sorrowful thing.

For you I'll fly
When I live alone
I dream of a horizon
with no words.
In the shadow and amongst lights
for my sight it's all black
if you are not with me . . . here.

You
in your world
separated from mine by an abyss.
Hear
call me
I'll fly
to your distant world.

For you I'll fly.
wait for me I'll arrive
my trip's end is you
for living it we two.
For you I'll fly
by skies and seas
up to your love.
Opening the eyes at last
with you I'll live

When you are far
I dream of an horizon
with no words.
And I know that you are always there, there
a moon made for me
always illuminated for me
because of me, because of me, because of me . . . *

For you I'll fly
wait for me I'll arrive
my trip's end is you
with you I'll live.

For you I'll fly
by skies and seas
up to your love.
Opening the eyes at last
with you I'll live.

For you I'll fly
by skies and seas
up to your love.
Opening the eyes at last
with you I'll live.

For you I'll fly . . .

The Sorrows of Hell Compassed Me About


This is my son, Jake. He is a very special person. He is attuned to the world in an intense way. I wish that everyone could comprehend his specialness. But that is the way of specialnesses, right? It’s hard to understand BECAUSE it’s special. He's also the daddy of the swinging princess in the picture down below.

I love this picture of him, because it expresses so much of his capacity to feel. In it, he seems both desperate and hopeful. It’s a hard job feeling all the feelings of the world.

And if you could hear him play Clare de Lune on the piano, it would bring you to tears. My favorite is always Canon in D, though. I swear, in my darkest days, if he played that for me it would fill my soul.

If music be the food of love, play on!

Anyway, I’m sad today. And I feel like that picture of Jake.

Recently, I met a friend of my son (the other son). A very nice young man. Brady will soon be working with him. I met him when I was down south a week and a half ago. While we were talking, he started telling me about his mom and what she does. His eyes shined so brightly while talking about her. “She sells jewelry,” he said. And then he showed me some of her pieces. He got her on the phone to check to see if he could sell me certain pieces or if she could order one I wanted that wasn’t displayed. It just struck me how much he admired his mother and what she does.

And then Brady tells me today that she died in a car accident over the weekend.

Let the tears fall.