I don't know how many tears I have left, but I will use them all- and still not feel better. My heart literally hurts. My vision is blurred.
I keep drifting to sleep, hoping that the next time I wake, it would have been a dream.
I never believed she would go. No!! I know people die- I know this but not her.
I can't stop thinking about her. Her music, her friendship, just her. Our talks, our laughs.
Who will I talk to now when I want to say whatever I want about whatever I want, whenever I want?
She just texted me Monday. I don't understand. I don't want to. I just want to bang these keys, destroy the keyboard! It hurts so bad. I can't think!
I finally got up this evening and took a shower- and I began to cry- she can't take a shower anymore.
Maurice told me I needed to eat- but she can't eat!
No matter what I do, I cry because she can't do it.
When my phone rang this morning and I saw her number, I sprang up and was so excited.
"Hey! You know I was getting worried!"
But it wasn't her.
"Hey Melissa, this is Jeff- Kenya's uncle. How are you?"
"Gettin' over this flu-"
I stopped. Why would he be calling me from her phone?
"Are you sittin' down?"
NO!NO!NO!
"Kenya passed away this morning."
SHe couldn't have- I just got a text on the 4th and today is just the 8th.
This sucks!

What in the World?

Geeeeeeeeeez! I don't know if I should laugh or cry... or beat him down!!!

Our little four-year-old had been doing quite well at daycare. He was doing too well. I felt bad because he was doing so well that I stopped for a minute and thought, "Something is 'bout to go down." Well this week it did.
Wednesday he was the line leader going to the bathroom- it was short lived. He started playing and the teacher made him go to the back of the line. Well he started crying and then he was called a cry baby. Well all "preschool" broke loose. He temporarily lost his mind and started hitting the teacher on her legs. She said he kept doing it all the way back to the classroom. The couple who brings in their lunches everyday came in and the wife told him he'd better stop- he didn't. Then her husband came in and told him he shouldn't be doing that, then he stopped. He then calmly went to his seat to eat. The teacher told him she was going to call us and he (he's four and seems sane to us) said,
"I know I might get my tail whipped, but tomorrow I am gonna bite you!"
Well... you know he had to get got when he came home.
Daddy got the belt out and put it on the couch and called him in to talk to him before he got spanked. I'd gone out to the pharmacy and called to see if he needed anything. When he got off the phone he went back to have his talk and spank. Well the belt was gone and so was the four-year-old.
After searching for a few brief minutes, Daddy found the four-year-old and asked him where the belt was. He shrugged his shoulders, but... actually offered to help Daddy look for it. Can you believe that?
Finally Daddy just told him,"Well you know there are other belts in the house."
He started running in place crying. "Daddy just don't hit me hard on my butt. Last time Mommy didn't hit me hard!"
Made me look bad. The next day after I didn't hit him hard, he went to school and told the teachers, "My mommy spanked me but it didn't hurt."
Made me look like the dysfunctional one. Some disciplinarian I am.

Another Toof Ordeal!

Okay we (Dude and I) have messed up again. Dysfunctional parents are we!!
Maurissa lost another tooth Friday night. Once again she pulled it herself (OUCH!) She put it in an old lavender sock so she wouldn't lose it. Well I didn't know this (that it was in an old sock). Last night (Saturday) I'm getting her ready for bed and in the middle of our prayers she runs downstairs. No, "Excuse me God or wait a sec mom, but I gotta... do whatever." She comes back with tears.
"I can't find my toof!"
Thinking of how I messed up last time- I run downstairs and ask Dude for a dollar. He's already in the bed and throws up his hands to let me know he doesn't have it.
"Great! Can you just- oh never mind!" I yell as I run out to the garage for my purse.
I run back in as fast as Marion Jones time without the Clear, and hear her coming downstairs.
"Here! Put this under the mattress or something!" I tell Dude.
He looks at the bill and says, "Five dollars? Teeth have gone up a bit ain't they?"
"That's the smallest bill I could find!" I snarl. "Just put it under there before she comes in."
Maurissa walks in wiping tears.
"You know what probably happened? The tooth fairy probably just put your money in the wrong place. Eh Daddy... look around the bed really good."
As if reading the lines and not "feeling" them, he says, "Oh, let me look around here."
I roll my eyes.
"Uh-oh! I think I've found something!" he adds.
He pulls out the five dollar bill.
Dude and I are the only two smiling.
"But, but... I didn't get to give her my toof. I didn't get to put it under my pillow and now I can't find my sock."
"Oh, well... she probably found it and knew you were going to put it there," I quickly offered.
"She or HE," Dude interjected.
"A fairy?" I laughed.
"It could be," he firmly said.
She cried more.
Without thinking, I said, "You could write her (fairy) a note."
Dude looks at me.
"Or HIM a note," I offered.
"A note?" he asked. "That's a GREAT idea."
The tears stopped and she grabbed some paper and pen and wrote the fairy a note:
I did not get to put my tooth under my pillo
can you please give it back to me? can you?
"Wow, you got five whole dollars," I reminded her.
She told me that she didn't want one bill. "I wanted two dollars."
I tried to explain that it was one bill but worth more money.
She wasn't buying it. She took the five and put it with the note and put it under her pillow.
"Mommy. Why did the toof fairy put the money under Daddy's pillow?"
I had to think for a minute before I answered, "She knew you took a nap there earlier so that's probably why."
I finished her prayers and tiptoed back downstairs.
Dude was in the kitchen. "Look, I think this is her tooth," he said while picking at something he'd found on the kitchen floor.
"Uh, that's not her tooth," I confidently responded.
It was a white substance with something reddish-brown on it, which a desperate person could, I guess, mistake it for blood from a tooth.
I chipped at it with him and noticed it was easy to chip.
"You don't think this could be her tooth?" he asked.
I looked at him a few minutes before speaking, "No! That's some old food that didn't get picked up when I swept."
Luckily he remembered he had her last tooth in our secret drawer. Actually it's not a "secret" drawer because I've seen the kids in it- but anyway... we decided to put it in a small bag and slip it under her pillow.
It worked!
This morning, she was excited to come down to tell us that she got her tooth back.
"She made it fair and square!" she smiled.
Dude and I smiled and rolled our eyes.
"Oh, this is definitely a blog!" I thought.

Boys Can Flirt, But Girls Need To Wear Long Skirts!

It's funny how we (parents) can almost be sexist when we deal with our kids. I'm not saying we are cognizant of it but we do... well dads, more-so, than the moms :)
Now last year when daddy's little, innocent, precious, can't-do-a-whole-lotta wrong, daughter was a kindergartner and was being the "aggressor" with a few little boys in her class- her daddy almost lost his mind.
Batting her eyes one night at the dinner table, she talked about one of the little boys freely,
"Cameron is so cute! I just love givin' him kisses."
My eyes closed and I swallowed my chicken...forgetting to chew it first. But she didn't know her daddy could be crazy...deranged...pshychotic... when it comes to her and the opposite sex, even at five-years-old.
"Who the heck is Cameron?" his glass hit the table.
I was trying to gulp down some water to help the chunk of chicken get down.
Unaware that her daddy's blood pressure was going up, she continued to bat her eyes and look up. I could almost picture the little cloud over her head, with the two of the little five-year-olds gazing at one another and hearts floating around- until I had to quickly snap out of it.
"Uh, baby girl daddy asked you who Cameron is and why was he kissing you?"
"He's my friend in class. He sits at my table. He's brown and he gots curly hair that-"
"Okay, baby girl, I don't need a detailed description," he finally calmed down. He looks her over and says, "And that skirt you got on may need to be a bit longer."
He'd lost it!
"Uh, Dude, you loved that Laura Ingalls long, skirt when YOU bought it," I raised my brows.
I explained to him that the little boy was a sweet little boy and that he really needed to calm down because our daughter was the one who was smitten. But he was ready to buy a gun.
Then our little four-year-old son and his attractions, actions- whatever you want to call it- gets a different reaction. He gets a little crush on a girl at church and daddy darn nears gives him the "Player of the Year" award.
Oh it's cute and he's teasing the girl's father, "You better get your girl, because Myles is reeling her in."
He smiles at Myles and picks him up and says, "That's daddy's big man!"
Now what is that about?

Shoulda Known

Today when we came home from church, Daddy (not mad at him right now), quickly told the kids to clean up.
"Get all of your toys and whatever else belongs to ya and put it up in your room or the playroom- wherever it goes."
I was impressed.
Then he, himself, started washing dishes and picked up his own clothes and hung them up. He actually hung them up and didn't throw them over the closet door. He even cleaned the fish tank. I thought the new little fish would be in there coughing from clouds of dirt before it got cleaned. I told the him and the kids before we got the fish that I could not do it (clean it).
He inspected their rooms and made sure everything was clean.
I did notice that he kept looking at the clock.
After we all finished he sat down and seemed interested in talking and listening. It felt weird.
Then around 3:50 pm he stretched and said he was going to let the kids watch TV in the living room and he would JUST go upstairs in the playroom.
I checked the channels.... Dallas was playing at 4pm. He's getting good. Real good.

She Just Isn't A Fighter... Right Now

Call me a bad parent but I felt the need to teach my daughter to fight. I know she has to learn as I did when I was younger but I just feel like she is gonna end up taking quite a few Ls (losses) and I can't stand by and let it happen.
She thinks the world is nice and just doesn't realize, yet, that this just isn't Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. He's deceased!
She is missing teeth and thank God it's because of age and they have fallen out and new ones are coming in. Not because of her mouth and they (teeth) have been knocked out.
She and her brother were playing in the play area of McDonald's Friday night. Initially it was just the two of them and my friend's daughter. Then a few others came in to play. And my two usually play well with anyone. Well, I hear another child- looked to be nine or ten years-old- questioning my daughter. Her voice wasn't pleasant. The girl's back was to me.
"Did you just call me a runt?" "What did you call me?" she questioned repeatedly, her voice growing louder each time.
Maurissa never said anything. She just sat at the end of the slide and looked embarrassed, scared, guilty- all of it.
"Maurissa," I called, "what are you doing?"
The girl stood over her, while holding her, I assumed, younger brother.
"Maurissa come here now!"
The girl then walked out and went to her parents.
Well, although I knew she probably was wrong and ran her mouth, I had already started getting defensive. In other words: I knew she was wrong but that little girl's folks didn't want none. My earrings were already off.
I asked her if she called the girl a name and why. She just stood there twirling the edges of her shorts. So I got unsolicited information from her younger brother. Oh, the four-year-old will tell it.
"We were runnin' and playin' and Maurissa called dat wittle white boy a runt, and his sista got mad."
I don't know why but when he said "white" I looked around, hoping no one heard him. But this is how some kids describe people.
"Okay and what were you gonna do?" I asked him. "What were you gonna do if that girl had hit your sister?"
He didn't know what to say.
"I've told yall both that you take up for each other, NO MATTER WHAT!"
I fussed the entire way home.
Once we got home, it still bothered me that she may have gotten her butt kicked. What would have happened if I wasn't there? She had to get a little tougher. She had to be prepared. Was it morally wrong to want her to learn to fight?
So when we got in the door, I started wrestling around with her. She looked confused... reasonably so. I mean I had just fussed her out and now I was laughing with her and trying to play- so she thought. I was trying to see what she had. She played around but she giggle so much that I came to my senses and realized that she was just not a fighter. Or maybe she would protect herself when she needed to and I would just have to live with that.
Or.... I could put her in karate classes.

The Look

My daughter gave me a look the other day. She didn't say anything but I knew what she was thinking. And I didn't like it! It wasn't a look she'd given me before- but a look I'd given my mom years ago. I just couldn't believe I had now gotten the look. How could she?
I'd just given her a spanking. And yes she deserved it. She told a lie. I'd given her a few chances to tell the truth but she chose to stick to her lie. She's an amateur. When I lied back in my youthful days... I was able to tell when my mom probably knew the truth. And if I thought she already knew but was asking me anyway, I was wise enough to go on and tell the truth. Kids really don't think parents were once young. I've tried everything my daughter has and then some... unfortunately.
So she lied and I spanked her and she says, between sobs, "But I thought I wouldn't get a spankin' if I told da troof!"
Was she questioning my parenting?
"That's when I ask you the first time about it. Not the fourth or fifth time."
After the spanking, I made her sit for a few minutes. I walked by her to give her that- I mean business look- and that's when I saw it... the look!
Of course, I caught her off guard. The look that says: Lord please make her fall down the stairs or something. Just hurt her please!! Please!
It almost made me feel a little worried.