Well, lets see, its April 20th. Its a day off at my daughter's school. I don't understand it, but apparently its BURN DAY which means everyone is supposed to get stoned at school and there isn't enough administrators to deal with that - and we ALL know how unruly a group of stoned kids can be..right?... so the principal just cancels school for this day every year. I think it started the year after Columbine.
That means my daughter is home. She's asleep - I hope. I mean, I know she is in her room, but she came home from theatre at 11:15 pm yelling at me that she was grumpy and that her chest and back hurt and why didn't I know what it was, then got madder when I wasn't real concerned about it, and suggested she go to bed since she had been rehearsing every day until about that time, and just maybe all that singing and dancing was hurting her chest muscles. But she had to wash her hair, at midnight, AND at the same time TEXT to her friends, so it was well after midnight that she got to sleep. I think I'll wait another hour and if I hear nothing then I'll check on her. Her doorway is sorta booby trapped so I can't just open it and look in. I want her to get all the rest she can before she goes back to rehearsal again tonight.
So I hope its a happy day all around. Its my son's birthday too. I haven't heard from him since my birthday before the last one. I miss him.
Maybe the hardest thing I've ever done
Was to walk away from you
Leaving behind the life that we'd begun
I split myself in two
Proud and alone, cold as a stone
Rolling down that hill into the night
I could see the surprise and the hurt in your eyes
From behind each flashing city light
Love needs a heart and I need to find
If loves needs a heart like mine
Love won't come near me, she don't even hear me
She walks past my vacancy sign
Love needs a heart, trusting and blind
I wish that heart was mine
Proud and alone, cold as a stone
I'm afraid to believe the things I feel
I can cry with the best I can laugh with the rest
But I'm never sure when it's real
And it may be the hardest thing I've ever done
But apart from all that I hope to find
Where's the heart that's been looking for mine?
I hope it finds me in time
Love needs a heart and I need to find
If love needs a heart like mine
Songwriters - Jackson Browne, Lowell George
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Why I'm here
Well, I'm not a stay at home mom. That's not the right words. I'll just say I'm done working.
Besides, my youngest child is a teenager now. I remember when I was pregnant with her, definitely not looking like I was in my twenties, possibly looking like in my late thirties, and working as a waitress, the only kind of job a haole can get in Hawaii, and giving dirty looks and waving the menu at people who were smoking (before the smoking ban) and 8 months pregnant with what turned out to be a nine pound baby girl, having a difficult time carrying those plates more than one at a time, and having some not so bright tourist (most are not that bright to begin with anyhow, or they wouldn't come to this rainy island) ask me a stupid question like "is this your first baby?" Uh, lady, I'm 42 years old, no, this is not my first baby, this is my LAST baby!
And the Friday before Christmas was my last day at work, and I remember walking out of there and barely able to get behind the steering wheel of my car, thinking to myself, "I'm done working". And that's it. I started when I was 16, I wrapped presents in a major department store. I worked all those years, I answered dispatch phones for the CHP, for a couple decades, listening to every single person who was screaming at me either because they crashed their car, or it was missing. And then I moved to Hawaii and became a waitress. Everyone should have to be a waitress sometime in their life. It requires basic common sense, legs that look good in short shorts, and the ability to balance plates. I did that for 5 1/2 years, and at 8 1/2 months pregnant, I said, "you know, I'm done working now".
Besides, my youngest child is a teenager now. I remember when I was pregnant with her, definitely not looking like I was in my twenties, possibly looking like in my late thirties, and working as a waitress, the only kind of job a haole can get in Hawaii, and giving dirty looks and waving the menu at people who were smoking (before the smoking ban) and 8 months pregnant with what turned out to be a nine pound baby girl, having a difficult time carrying those plates more than one at a time, and having some not so bright tourist (most are not that bright to begin with anyhow, or they wouldn't come to this rainy island) ask me a stupid question like "is this your first baby?" Uh, lady, I'm 42 years old, no, this is not my first baby, this is my LAST baby!
And the Friday before Christmas was my last day at work, and I remember walking out of there and barely able to get behind the steering wheel of my car, thinking to myself, "I'm done working". And that's it. I started when I was 16, I wrapped presents in a major department store. I worked all those years, I answered dispatch phones for the CHP, for a couple decades, listening to every single person who was screaming at me either because they crashed their car, or it was missing. And then I moved to Hawaii and became a waitress. Everyone should have to be a waitress sometime in their life. It requires basic common sense, legs that look good in short shorts, and the ability to balance plates. I did that for 5 1/2 years, and at 8 1/2 months pregnant, I said, "you know, I'm done working now".
About Me
- hulamama
- I do yoga to keep from shrinking and from losing my mind. I don't say "Om", and I usually listen to morning music.
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