Monthly Archives: January 2017

Age discrimination … right there!

young-and-fit-no-employer-nameOh how I love to Rant and voice my opinions. “Young, Fit, Construction Personnel Needed ASAP”.  Do YOU see anything wrong with this? Maybe I am over-reacting with this one and acting like one of those “offended by everything” assholes, but for some reason this just pissed me the fuck off.

dis·crim·i·na·tion

dəˌskriməˈnāSH(ə)n/
noun
noun: discrimination; plural noun: discriminations
  1. 1.
    the unjust or prejudicial treatment of different categories of people or things, especially on the grounds of race, AGE, or sex.
http://career.iresearchnet.com/career-development/age-discrimination-in-employment-act-of-1967-adea/
Your too Old!

I get that they don’t want a 95 year old who can barely lift his head let alone a hammer and I get that they don’t want someone who can’t physically do the job, but this heading is screaming “if we don’t hire you, make sure you sue us for discrimination!

https://www.insidehighered.com/advice/2014/08/13/essay-age-discrimination-faculty-hiring
Go away.

” The “Young” part really gets me. What exactly do they consider young? Oh wait, IT DOES NOT MATTER!!! if a person can physically do the job, whether they are 20 or 50 years old does not matter!! Maybe it is because I am getting older that this is pissing me off so much. Companies are not “allowed” to age discriminate, but they ALL do! They lie about it but they do. Everyone want the younger person, the younger person has the potential to stay longer (but companies are stupid, it’s those of us that are a bit older that will stay, we are more likely to want to “settle down” with a long term career). But to actually advertise for a young person … oh fuck, that pisses me off!!! And “fit”, I “kind of” get this, but not entirely, I get that one has to be able to lift a lot. moving 2x4s and drywall etc. But instead specify “must be able to carry sheet of drywall”or 75 lbs or whatever. There are many “unfit” people who are more than capable of doing construction work and DO IT WELL!!

https://www.dol.gov/oasam/programs/crc/2011-age-discrimination.htm
Must be under 40!

Here is what one might decipher from this heading alone. The company is age discriminating (that is illegal!!!!!) what other illegal things do they do? The company seems to be assuming that only young and fit can do construction work…we all know that is NOT true, I am sure we all know some excellent construction guys or gals that are not “young” or “fit”! The company probably wants a man, I mean they specified young and fit. They are already age discriminating and physically discriminating (if that is a thing), why wouldn’t they be sexist too? Why wouldn’t they have the mentality that women shouldn’t do men’s work, women aren’t strong enough or “fit” enough. The Company appears to be looking for eye candy … come on Young and fit? This sounds like an advertisement for a dancer or model.

http://taboojive.com/ageism-the-undying-prejudice/
Ageism

I know 50 year old people who are more “fit” than some early 20 year olds!! I am utterly disgusted by this posting and I hope legal action comes to this company! I really do. As a 40 year old woman with a background in the trades, I too am tired of being passed over by younger, fitter, men. So to this company, and all others with this mentality, I say FUCK YOU! I need to wrap up now as the more I write, the more pissed off I get. So to get over it, I complete my rant.

This company, as far as my opinion goes, is a lawsuit waiting to happen. I am disgusted and will never apply for a job through this company, I would never work for a company that is so blatantly discriminatory.

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http://henniegurlluvez.blogspot.ca/2011/10/end-of-our-friendship.html

No break up is more heartbreaking than that of the betrayal of a best friend.

I have lost contact with a lot of “friends” over the years but she hurt me the most.

Nora and I had a complicated relationship. We hated each other, then loved each other, moved in together as roommates, stopped talking, friends again, and again and again, and then along came Byrne.broken-heart-painting-on-wall

A little history… Nora and I met in 1996 (I was 19-20 and she 16-17). She was pregnant with her first baby. The father (We will call him Laur) was one of my roommates and a scum bag that invokes a whole other story, but this story is about Nora. We hated each other at first. Not for any good reason, we were young, I drank … a lot … and Nora was pregnant, stuck around a bunch of drunks and has those “natural bitch eyes”. Laur made her terrified of me by telling her stories about how mean, and evil I was. Don’t get me wrong, I could be pretty mean and nasty if you pissed me off, but considering all I did for him, (for starters, He lived with us for free as he had no-where to live. Yes I was that person). Anyway, obviously I was not nearly as “evil” as he made me out to be, but I was very strong, confident, loud, vocal, and independent, so along with Laur’s lying horror stories, I scared the crap out of meek little Nora.

2 or 3 ish months after the baby (Corliss) was born, Nora and Laur (he moved out somewhere along the way … actually, I am pretty sure I may have told him to leave) had a house warming type party as they got themselves a new apartment. This is when Nora and I finally really started speaking and getting to know each other. She was not nearly as bitchy as her eyes portrayed and I was not as Evil as Laur portrayed me. We became friends.

Keep in mind that as I stated before, Laur was a scum bag. When Corliss was about 6-8 months old some (abusive and illegal type) shit went down between Nora and Laur, leaving Nora needing a place to live, me being that person who took in strays (for lack of a better term) invited Nora and Corliss to stay with me. I had another roommate at this time who hated Nora (she was actually quite jealous of the growing relationship between Nora and I), to the point where she would pick fights with her and literally wanted Nora out on the streets. To make this part of the story short, it got so bad that I kicked out the roommate and Nora stayed. We lived together for the next 2-3 years. We quickly became the best of friends ….

The best of friends except for 1 thing. Nora ALWAYS let men come between us. Usually “hers” but once, mine (…in her defence, she was right that time … he was an asshole).

Just about every time she got a boyfriend, she stopped talking to me, started a fight somehow, or, once she actually told me that we can’t hang out because the BF didn’t like me. Nora had a type. That type was possessive, controlling, abusive, assholes. Most of her boyfriends didn’t like me and I was ok with it. They were dirt-bag losers who thrived on intimidating “weak women”. I was far from weak and intimidated them instead. They hated that I did not cower and I figure they were very afraid my strength would rub off on their new slave. Sadly when Nora did find a “good guy” she would dump his ass pretty quick or wreck that relationship before it even started. Because of her choosing Men over everyone I always said, “Nora and I are not true friends. I keep going back for Corliss.” Don’t get me wrong, I love Nora, I still do, we went through a lot together and I was ALWAYS there for her, and she was ALMOST always there for me, but she was never a real friend to me and I knew it. Sure she listened to me vent (when she was single), and we hung out and partied together, we called each other daily and we did just about everything together … as long as a sack of shit narcissist was not controlling  or even just in her life. But she always put men first … even went as far as to sleep with some that I cared about …But I still loved her, like a sister even.

We only ever had 1 fight that did not involve a man in some way. It was the stupidest, dumbest fight ever! We were both cranky, hungover, out of smokes and caffeine. I think I will leave it at that.

publilius-syrus-quote-a-friendship-that-can-end-never-really-beganThen Nora met Gabor. I didn’t care much for him at first (likely because I thought he would be like all the rest). He was a drunk. I was in the process of coming out of my heavy drinking stage. But, He eventually grew on me … like a tumor. Why? Despite his drinking and extreme annoyance when drunk, he was a pretty good guy. He was not an over powering scuz bucket. He did not abuse Nora. He didn’t “control” Nora. He worked. He was fun. He was easy to talk to. If I called for Nora and she was out, Gabor took over as the ear to listen. He became one of my best friends too. You know when you hang out with a couple and you feel like a third wheel … I never felt that with Nora and Gabor. They were together for quite some time (Well it was over 8 years anyway). Got married had a baby and then separated and finally divorced. I stayed friends with both of them…

In late 2008 Nora met Byrne, the beginning of our end. He was a married (supposedly separated) man at the time, but that didn’t stop Nora. They started seeing one another. At first I thought this was great. I liked Byrne, I thought he was pretty cool and fun. In fact she met him through me (no, not as a set up). He was a friend of mine (or so I thought). Sure he flirted with and hit on me a few times, but I shrugged it off, because he flirted with lots of girls and was really friendly with everyone it seemed. When he and Nora started dating (I hoped) that would be the end of his hitting on chicks. Well it wasn’t. It was worse. We went out together one night, the three of us, and I was going to crash at Nora’s. Naturally so was Byrne. Well Nora was so Drunk that she went up to bed. Now if this was Gabor, we could have sat together all night, laughing, drinking and having a good time as friends. No hitting on me, no flirting with me. Just hanging out. Well this was NOT Gabor. Byrne came on strong. Byrne tried to “sleep” with me. In Nora’s House! Naturally I shoved him away from me (a couple times) and made him go to bed then I called a cab and went home. I couldn’t sleep there knowing that he was there and could try something on me at any time. And being intoxicated, when I passed out … I may not have woken up right away if he did try something. I was pissed off and left. I initially intended to tell Nora first thing in the morning but I thought 2 things, Nora will likely “choose him” and his story over me, and our friendship will end. So I kept it to myself, chalking it up to drunkenness, it won’t happen again. I won’t let it. I would not be alone or drunk around Byrne again. Nora and I drifted apart a bit, still called each other “friends” but it was ending. She would go to Byrne’s house for the night or weekend (which was directly across the street from me remember) and I wouldn’t even know. She wouldn’t call or visit. Neither her nor the kids.

In early 2009 (mid Feb), Gabor ran into a rough patch and I offered him a place to stay. He too was my friend after all and at this point a better friend than Nora. So he moved in. If you’ve read previous blogs, you know this is a bad habit I have, taking in “strays”.

Mid 2009 (June 30th actually, we were bringing in Canada Day) Nora, Byrne, myself and a few other people were partying at a bar on the boardwalk. It had been a while since I hung out with Nora, I missed my best friend and I was having a blast! Then Byrne ruined it. That fucking pig. He took me aside and tried to make out with me. When I pulled away, he said “why aren’t we together?” He told me he wanted me and always had. He went on and on about how we belong together and he is only with Nora because he is not with me and all kinds of bullshit of that nature. I tried to ignore him and walk away, but he was persistent. So I faked sick and went home. I again made the mistake of not telling Nora right away. I waited about a month. (But I believe for good reason) It was eating me alive. I knew I had to tell her, but I also knew it would ruin our friendship. Forever this time, I could just feel it. So i mulled it over and I talked to a lot of people and they convinced me to tell her. I wanted to tell her in person but she could not seem to find the time to meet with me. (I honestly believe to this day, that Byrne was trying to keep us apart to avoid me telling her… Little did he know, friends don’t matter to Nora, Men do.) Weeks went by and I just couldn’t wait any longer, so I sent her a message. Spilling everything. Everything about Byrne, a couple other events that pissed me off and how upset I was. A few emails/messages back and forth and that was it. End of friendship. Why? Well or 1. She completely ignored the part of the message where I told her that her married boyfriend (Who was infact still fully married, living part-time (weekends) with and sleeping with his wife… long story) is a cheating piece of shit. And 2. She then tried to blame me for our drifting apart!! What the actual fuck! First saying it was because I let Gabor move in with me. I came back with “Are you fucking kidding? This started WAY before he moved in!” Then she came up with some other excuse to shift any blame from her and Byrne. It was ridiculous. I couldn’t even believe what I was hearing/reading.

httpfavim.comimage1683910Over the next year we barely spoke. But our kids were all raised together, so we still shifted kids and had sleepovers. Then that stopped. Nora started making excuses and lies to keep her kids away from mine. Her youngest, who was best friends with Kyia, invited Kyia to her Birthday party. Days before the party, Nora UNINVITED HER! I kid you not. made up some lie about there not being a party. THIS made me lose it. I messaged Nora and went up one side and down the other. If she wants to hate me because her cheating boyfriend would have likely “chosen” me over her, given the chance, then fine. But who the fuck do they think they are punishing and hurting the children! This, I would not stand for. She did not reply. But she stopped being (that much of) a cunt. The Kids stayed out of it after that.

Today. Kyia still talks to the girls. I still talk to the girls. Nora and I speak on occasion and are “acquaintances” but we will never be friends again. I will always love her and she will always hold a place in my heart but I will never trust her. No break up is more heartbreaking than that of the betrayal of a best friend.

http://www.slate.com/blogs/outward/2013/10/17/gender_neutral_pronouns_will_they_ever_catch_on.html

LGBTabcdefg….gender neutral?

Warning! Beware the language!

My friend sent me a link to a video a few days ago and it made me want to do a post about how annoying (some) “LGBT….” people can be. The Video itself is hilarious! Have a click…

httpwww.lgbtenfield.orgwp-contentuploads201301lgbt-network-enfield.jpg

Don’t get me wrong, I do not have a problem with gays or lesbians or homos or what-the-fuck-ever “they” are calling themselves these days. Love is love. Sex is sex. Humans are humans. Your preference is none of my business. I truly believe that you have every right to “be with” whomever you want, man or woman (you know, so long as they are of an appropriate age and willing…you rape someone or touch a child, Straight, gay or otherwise, I hope you die the most painful death imaginable and then after death you suffer in agony in the depths of hell).

I have some very good friends who are gay. In fact my second mom is gay (my best friend of over 30 years’ mother). She is one of the strongest and most amazing women I know! She “came out” during a time when it was a lot less accepted than it is now. She does not “flaunt” her sexuality and she doesn’t care if you are gay or straight. She is an inspiration. I also spent many years thinking my best friend was “in the closet”. I told her 25 years ago that if she was gay and came out I would still be her best friend. I told her I would be there for her and by her side no matter what. She screamed at me that she was not gay, so I let it go. But in the back of my mind I thought there was still a possibility for many years. I may not think it anymore, but still have an open mind and if she did tell me she is a lesbian, I’d cheer her on! I know some assholes who happen to be gay. I have an Ex friend (are they exes if they were friends?) who is one of the biggest douche bags I know. He is a liar, abusive and a “troublemaker”. He is judgemental and makes fun of people … the ironic (is that the word I want to use here?) thing is, he is unemployed, not very attractive and I believe an alcoholic, who the fuck is he to make fun and judge? He is hateful toward most straight people.  I have some great straight friends. For some reason I feel like I do not need to put examples in here … this, is what society has done to me … but I will. Let me give you an example of the most amazing “Straight person” I know, my grandmother. Nanny was a very catholic/religious woman, but she was acceptant. She may not have “understood” gay people, but she accepted them.  She was kind but strong. She taught me to have the open mind that I have. I know some real big dick head straight people. We all know there are many straight people out there who think gay is wrong, period. If there wasn’t there wouldn’t be an issue. And we likely all know (at least) one. The ones who really piss me off are the ones who are hypocritical pigs as well. You know, the disgusting Men who demand that being gay is wrong, it is evil and you are going to burn in hell! but lesbians are ok because girl on girl is “hot”(Met a lot of pigs over the years like this one)…And the women who do the same thing. Homosexuality is a sin, it is disgusting and unnatural, but a threesome with 2 men would be so awesome though!

Humans are humans. We are ALL equal no matter who we love, what our preferences are, what colour we are, what size we are, what language we speak, what sex we are… What sex we are… that brings me to my point I think…So, what is this (vent) post about? What do I have a problem with? Well …

When you call yourself a gender that you are not… or worse gender neutral. Males have a penis and Females have a vagina. PERIOD. You can be a male who “lives as a woman” or you can be a female who “lives as a man”, but if you have a fucking dick between your legs you are a fucking male. FACT is there are two and two only genders. Humanity has 2 fucking genders – FACT. Male and female. Penis and vagina. See the picture below? If you are a person who has anatomy like the diagram on the left, You are Male. You can be homosexual, you can be what I think you call transgender which I believe means you “live as a woman”, you can be a cross dresser, you can be Bi-sexual but you are still MALE!  If your anatomy looks like the one one the right, you ARE Female. You can live as a man, sleep with women, and dress like a man but until you get an actual “sex change” operation, you are female!

http://www.medicaldaily.com/male-and-female-reproductive-systems-harder-label-some-others-271039

Gender Neutral (regarding sexuality or gender…not the green or yellow you paint the babies room)… What the actual fuck is this?? “they have actually introduced pronouns to replace he/she, him/her and his/hers … No joke, Xe, Xem and Xyr are some of these newly invented pronouns. The only scenario in which I can fathom a person legitimately calling themselves “gender neutral” is if they are born with NO FUCKING PARTS! …or maybe if they are a hermaphrodite… I am not afraid to say that if I EVER run into a person who calls him/her self gender neutral, I will immediately assume they are the dumbest motherfucker to walk the planet, and instantly turn and walk away in an effort to avoid my IQ dropping from just being near them. Yes instantly, not another damn word. You are officially a moron. There is NO SUCH THING as gender neutral. It is simply something “easily offended” shit disturbers made up to annoy the hell out of actual intelligent people and have a way to use discrimination as a way to start a fight. For Christ sake, gender neutral. This topic makes my blood boil. I have never heard a more idiotic classification.

While we are on the topic of what I have a problem with…

When you throw your sexuality in my face. I do not give a fuck if you are gay, straight, or Bi, I don’t want to see you making out with your partner and I sure as hell don’t want to see you walking around in ass-less chaps (I threw the ass-less in there for effect … all chaps are ass-less other wise they would just be called pants! fg3jgh20160602115037  )Gay, Straight, old young, Put some damn clothes on and get a fucking room! Seriously! Have some fucking class. Being gay (or straight, or Bi) does not mean you have to walk around advertising who you sleep with! I am straight, I am proud to be straight. My vagina loves cock. I don’t walk around showcasing my love for dicks! Be who you are, but do it subtly and humbly. For Fuck sake. Now wait, before you flip, I realize some people are “flamboyant” due to their personalities, That is different. Be extravagant. Be Dazzling. Be glamorous. But do it with out exposing yourself. Have some self-respect and decency. And What in the fuck is all this sexual shit… Gay, straight, Bi, a-sexual, transsexual metasexual, pansexual, there are so many! …and Lesbian is a category all on its own?… because lesbians are not gay?… JESUS CHRIST!! There are 4!!! There are only 4 sexuality classifications; Homosexual – Your preference is someone of the same sex, Straight – Preference is someone of the opposite sex, Bi-Sexual – No preference, you are good with a boy or girl and Celibacy – You don’t want anyone. That is it! Your a guy who likes guys who look like girls? Then you are gay. get it? good.

When you determine that “all” straight people are the problem. (no really, I have personally been snubbed by some loser gay guy because I was straight … no joke! His words “oh, your straight” and walked away all snooty. My friend I was with told me this guy has it out for all straight people. I laughed my ass off. As if I would associate myself with the likes of that anyway! Not because he is gay, but because he is a self absorbed douche bucket!) Fuck you dickhead… YOU are the problem … If you ever say “All” of any class of people are a problem or whatever, I hope you trip, smash you head on the pavement and live your remaining days with amnesia, forgetting what a world class scuz-bag you are. All of any category is never the problem (except spiders… all spiders suck!) There are some sexist men, there are some sexist women, there are bad people who are gay, there are bad people who are straight, there are stupid white people, there are stupid black people, there are evil Muslims and evil Christians. There are also good people of every kind. There are good Muslims, my landlord is one. There are good Christians, My Grandmother was one. There are good Gay people, My friend Paul is one. There are good straight people, I am one! For the love of all that is holy, stop blaming everyone else and look in the mirror.

When you ask for “equality” but actually want more. Your not fucking special. You are human, I am human. Do I think Gays should be able to marry? Hell Yes! Do I think that you should be treated the exact same as me? Hell yes! Do I think you should celebrate who you are? Hell Yes! Do I think you should have the same rights as me? Hell Yes! Do I think you should have to hide your partner? Fuck No! Do I think you should get special treatment? Fuck no! Do I think people should “walk on eggshells” and be very careful how they address you? O My God Moron, are you not paying attention? Take your self-righteous ass and go jump off a bridge. EQUALITY is just that. Being equal, being treated as equal and treating others as equal. Equality does not mean you get special fucking treatment.

So in summary, there are 2 sexes. TWO. Male and Female. Gender Neutral does not exist (unless you were unfortunate enough to be born with no male or female genitalia). If you are easily offended… your problem, not mine (and you likely should not be reading my blog). There are 4 sexuality classifications, Homosexual, Straight, Bi-Sexual and Celibacy. If you are a male who lives as a woman, I will contently go along with it and call you “she” but, I will NEVER call you xe and know that if asked (such as “hey is that a dude or a chick”), I will always say you are a MALE who lives as a woman and prefers to be called a she. Equal means we are EQUAL. Your being offended by all straight people is your problem.

06dec012b2ea7518129f7218d5f8a7ef

Live how you want. Dress how you want. Fuck who you want. Be who you want.

I hate you, Mom.

Two nights ago, Kyia and I had a huge ass daughter hates mother, mother thinks daughter is a disrespectful and ungrateful brat fight that lasted about 6 hours (well 3-4 hours of it was calmer and involved talking and discussing and compromising). We both said some hurtful things. I fucked up by bringing her deadbeat fathers name into it. 13 years of keeping my insults and hatred towards him to a minimum (in front of her) and mostly hidden came flying out. I may have slipped up and spewed about his abuse … she never knew. I always just say “we just didn’t get along” when she has asked about why we broke up or are not together. I hate myself for that (the fuck up, not the break up). I didn’t give a lot of details, but I said more than enough, more than I ever should have. She did not EVER need to know about the abuses I encountered at the “hands” of her father. I am so sorry for this. I know it did not help at all. I know. In fact there is a chance I made things worse. As a child who had a mother who spewed insults and hatred about her father, I know the resentment I feel towards it.

Back on track. During this fight Kyia glared at me with what looked like hatred in her eyes and said in her nasty hateful tone, “What exactly do you ever do for me?” First, I laughed. Really Child? Someday you will be a parent and you will know that the things a mother does for her child are unlimited. The short answer to that question is “literally everything!” The long answer is much more detailed and complex. This is what I want to talk about today.

What have I done/ do I do for my daughter?

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Well, there are the obvious things such as, I put a roof over her head, food in her belly and clothes on her back. I give her all the necessities of life. But let’s dig deeper and be clearer. I am not going to point out “everything” I do, I don’t have the time or space for that, there is just too much. I am going with what I think is important right now. Kyia, my answer to your question (FYI, before you get all high and mighty and self-righteous, this is the answer that she won’t be actually getting …at least not the “your father is an abhorrent dick ones).

I left your father for you. He was a violent alcoholic, a liar and a cheater. He was possessive and controlling. He was an abusive scumbag. He was mentally, emotionally and sexually abusive. He was on his way to being physically abusive, it was only a matter of time. I had my bags packed and was making plans to leave when I found out I was pregnant. Being raised without a father, I decided to stay a bit longer to try and work things out. I hoped that the idea of being a father would make him a better person…it works this way with most people… not with him. He did not get better, he actually started to get worse. So after about 3 months, to protect you from his abuse, I left. I moved across Canada to be surrounded by loved ones. You gave me the strength to protect you. I left him for you.

I endured pregnancy and child birth for you. When discovering my pregnancy I cried for 3 days straight. Literally. Barely slept, barely ate. Could not stop crying. There were two reasons for this sniveling sob-fest. The first being the father. I would be stuck with this vile douche bucket for the rest of my life if I had a baby! The second, I did NOT want children. Ever. I considered my options, all of them. It took me 3 days to realize, yup, I want this child. I fell in love with you. My love for you outshined my hatred for your father and my annoyance with other people’s children. I wanted to love you, raise you and protect you. I then spent the next 8 months suffering cramps daily, nausea constantly, dizziness, pregnancy brain and extra stress. I did not have an easy pregnancy. I did not have the worst pregnancy, but it was not easy. I was not the glowing mom-to-be as a lot of pregnant women are. I was sick every fucking day. I was in pain, every fucking day. I suffered, every fucking day. I spent 36 hours in labour. During your birth I ripped. I ripped 13 stitches worth of ripping. I ended up with a UTI AND an infected tear down there. My Vagina felt like it was on fire for 6 weeks! It did not want to heal. I endured pregnancy and child birth for you.

I protect you. I protect you from your father.  If he had his way when you were an infant, he would have taken you only to show off to some chick while they were getting drunk and high while you slept, likely on a bed in which you could fall off. I made the rule that he could only “take” you IF he was with suitable supervision, His father and his father’s wife (ex now) mostly. I knew your grandfather would keep you safe. I allowed you to go there anytime they wanted you. But only if your grandfather was there. I protect you from yourself. You do some stupid things. If I let you do every little thing you “wanted” to do, spur of the moment, you would be in a casket in no time. I will not be having that. I don’t allow you to touch the fire, I do not allow you to run in front of cars, I do not allow you to jump off bridges. I do these things, not to be mean and hurt you, but to protect you. I protect you from others. I talk to you about strangers and the dangers they could impose. I teach you that when you are in trouble (or even think you are) to get help from a trusted adult (mom, police, teacher etc.). I protect you from as much as I can without putting you in bubble wrap … or at least not too much bubble wrap. I protect you.

I fight for you. I fight you. I fight your dad. I fight my anxiety. I fight myself. I do not like to fight. When we fight, it is usually because I am trying to have you behave in a more respectful manner. I do not want you to grow up to be hated by people because you are a disrespectful, hateful spoiled brat. I want you to learn that you need to treat others as you want to be treated and if you are mean, there will be repercussions. When I fight with you, I am fighting for you. I fight with your dad for you. I fight my depression and anxiety every minute of every day. It pains me to be such a worrier. It pains me that I just want to stay in bed all day. It pains me that I have no motivation. It pains me that I have no strength. But for you I fight it all. I force myself out of bed. I force myself to let you out of my sight despite the scariest imaginable thoughts racing through my head about the worst case scenarios that could happen to you. I force some fake motivation so that we can do things such as road trips or Day trips to the zoo or even a quick visit to the mall. I force the strength to be your mom. I could easily just lay in bed and let you do whatever you please, but what kind of person would you be? I need the strength to tell you no and to hold you accountable for your actions. It is a daily battle. I fight daily for you.

I take blame for you. How many times did I tell your father that you “weren’t allowed to go” when in reality you did not want to go, so he would be angry with me and not you. How many times have I told you to blame me if you need to hang up on him, to tell him I took the phone and hung up. When you wanted to leave Bree’s house, during our visit home, because “she is mean”, I said it was me who didn’t want to stay there (although that was true as well, we left because YOU did not want to stay). I take the blame when you will be the one hurt otherwise. If someone will retaliate and be angry with you, I take blame for you.

I went to school for you. I would have been content working at menial jobs for a long time and likely never would have had the ambition to further my education. But having a baby changed that. Your life is too precious to me to raise you on “welfare” or in poverty. I needed an actual education in order to support you and give you the life I never had, to give you the life you deserve. I spent 6 years struggling every day, trying to find a balance of school and home. I studied, I fought, I cried, I begged, I pleaded, I tried, I passed and I failed. It was the most difficult 6 years of my life. I went back to school for you.

I moved across Canada (again) for you. I needed a job. The whole theory of going back to school in order to get a better job to support you was destroyed in NB. Despite my graduating a very good course, work in NB is scarce. The only way I could succeed was to move where the jobs were. So we moved. I didn’t really want to, deep down, but we did. I moved for you.

I stay for you. I want to go home. I want to be near my family, friends and the support they offer. Since we moved away there have been a lot of opportunities that have opened up in the Maritimes. I want to go home. I actually don’t like it here much. I have met some nice people, made a new friend or 2, but it just isn’t working for me. But I know deep down that you are happy here. You have friends. You have more opportunity here. So, I stay for you.

I went to court for you. Your repugnant deadbeat father decided he would refuse to sign a letter allowing me to take you into the states. Not because he thought we would stay there, but just because he is a dick and would do anything to hurt me and piss me off. He told you he would send a letter so we could go to the Seattle zoo, he told me to fuck off. He refused to send one allowing me to take you to Disneyland during the only time we were financially able to do so. So I spent hours talking to councillors, I spent weeks researching, I spent days filling out paper work and I spent hundreds of dollars so I could get “legal” full custody with the travel clause (Meaning I do not need his permission to leave the country with you). I went to court for you.

I taught you and I teach you. You knew your alphabet and numbers and how to write them and your name by the time you were 3, you didn’t learn that on your own. I helped you learn how to walk. I taught you not to touch the stove (without shoving your hand on the burner like parents did in the “old days”, yikes). I am teaching you to cook. I taught you cursive. I am teaching you multiplication. I am teaching you how to memorize. I taught you to be kind. I taught you to be thoughtful. I taught you to be respectful. I taught you these things by doing them myself. When we went out at Christmas time with our little candy packs, I taught you to be giving. When I give you a toonie to give to the busker, I am teaching you to be caring (and kind and giving and empathetic and an array of other characteristics). When I told you we do not give money to people unless they are doing something (people on the street “bumming” money vs the guy with the guitar playing a song or the homeless guy trying to sing), I am teaching you that you need to work for or earn what you want. When I tell you why I am putting on my blinker, I am teaching you to drive. When I scold you for interrupting me when I am talking, I am teaching you patience and to not be rude. When I say no, I am teaching you that life will not always give you what you want. When I lecture you for being rude, I am teaching you to be respectful. By not giving you everything you ask for, I am teaching you to be grateful.  When I punish you for misbehaving, I am teaching you that there are consequences. When I hug you when you are sad, hurt or crying, I am teaching you compassion. When I make your breakfast, hug you, drive you to your friends, read to you, laugh with you and do any little thing for you, I am teaching you love. I teach you.

I punish and discipline you. You think punishment is a bad thing, but it is not. I don’t beat you or abuse you. I try to punish you to fit the “crime”. You fall behind on school work because you are too busy snapchatting friends, you lose your phone. You room is a mess after being told to clean it every day for a week, no sleepovers this weekend. Punishing you teaches you. I scold you, I lecture you and I ground you. It teaches you that you cannot do “whatever you want” It teaches you there are consequences to your actions (or lack thereof), it teaches you to not slack off and to not be an asshole. I discipline you.

I nurture, comfort and care for you. I care for you and attend to all of your needs. I promote your growth through love, discipline and hard work. When you are sick, I go to the store and get you apple juice, ice cream and chicken noodle soup. I get you blankets and serve you. I take your temperature and help you to feel more comfortable. I bring you to the doctor and hospital if necessary. When you are sad, angry or upset, I am the one sitting by your side holding you as you cry. I am the one reminding you that I am here for you and everything will be ok. I am the one who nurtures, comforts and cares for you.

I am your maid and I cook for you. I pick up after you constantly. Sure, lately I have started making you do it, but that is because you have started doing nothing. You have become lazy and began taking advantage of my “spoiling you” (for lack of a better term). But I still pick up after you a lot. I make your breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. Yes there are occasional exceptions where I may say “screw it, I am not cooking” and make everyone reheat leftovers or chomp on “snacky” stuff. There are also occasions where we eat out at a restaurant. For the most part, I cook or make all of your meals. I bake often providing you with a healthier and tastier alternative to all the junk cookies we could buy in the store. I do 90% of the chores so that you have more time for you, your studying and your friends. I cook so you eat and I clean so you do not live in filth. I clean and I cook for you.

I attend for you. Every play you act(ed) in. Every music concert you play(ed) in. Every music lesson you attend(ed). Every parent teacher meeting. Every sporting event you participate in. Every Tuesday and Thursday for Tae Kwon Do practice for 2 years. Every birthday party you have. Every hospital visit. Every playdate you enjoy. Every drop off or pick up you need. I attend all of your functions, for you.

I miss work for you. If you are sick or have a play, I miss work. I will call in “sick” to stay home and help you. I will call in sick just to have a mommy/daughter day (but only once a year…I have to keep my job, when I have one, for you too!). I will stay home to attend events and functions. But if “I” am sick, I will usually go to work. If there is a function that I want to attend, I will still go to work. I stay home from work for you.

I fuck up. I am not perfect. I try my hardest and do everything I can to mould you into a caring, kind, intelligent, loving, thoughtful young woman. I do everything I can to help you learn about and understand life. I attempt over and over to teach you lessons to survive on this god-awful planet. But I mess up. Just the other night, divulging you fathers abuse towards me, that was a fuck up. Just like when I let my emotions get the better of me and I over react. Just like when I lose my temper over “not good enough” school work. I am human and I fuck up.

I am your mom for you! I kill spiders and bugs. I open jars. I forgive. I listen. I take you shopping. I get you a drink. I fix things that won’t work (or at least I try to). I tell you stories. I find your lost things. I let you stay up late on weekends. I make sure you get to school. We go to the zoo. I feed you. I clothe you. I give you privacy. I am here. I will never leave. I bought you a bed. I clean up your vomit when you are sick. I do your laundry. I buy groceries. I make your doctor appointments. I bring you to those doctor appointments. I tuck you in. I kiss you goodnight. I walk you to the door. I changed your diapers. I stayed awake all night to keep an eye on you. I’ve bathed you. I’ve washed you. I carried you. I hug you. I play board games with you. I picked your nose. I taught you to ride a bicycle. I wake up early. I took you fishing. I held your hand. I bring you camping. I rub your head til you fall back to sleep. I remind you to brush your teeth. I potty trained you. I let you sleep in my bed when you are scared or lonely. I support you. I give you rules. I give you boundaries. I keep your secrets. I listen to you when you have pretty drama filled issues with your friends. I give you advice. I take you on vacations. I joined snapchat. I let you have snapchat. I cancel my plans to accommodate you. I go without. I save your work. I brush your hair. I pay for your entertainment. I take you to movies. I push you to be the best you can be. I breathe. There are a billion more things I could list, but the most important thing I do for you, I love you. Unconditionally.

It is daunting at times, but there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. So, the next time you look at me with hatred and want to know what the fuck I do for you…

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