Mom, I Am All Adventured Out..

Growing up I was blessed with being able to travel with my maternal grandparents several times a year.  Ranging anywhere from Disneyland and Sea World to camping and boating.  I was with my grandparents at  Lake Powell the day it was considered officially full in June of 1980. Lake Powell is my favorite place in the world and the resting place of my grandparents.

Except for the times my grandfather flew us in his Cessna, vacations were usually started with a Bronco pulling a trailer or a boat name The Beverly Anne II.  The drive was usually long enough for something to leak, break, fail, catch fire, or blow out along way.  Adding  adventure long before we were screaming at the darkness in Space Mountain

It was my grandmother who gave me the term “adventure” during those times that I still use to this day.  Living in a 30 year old pink single wide trailer with only a swamp cooler to get through the Vegas summer heat, was quiet an adventure.  My grandmother took one look at the trailer and told me to just pretend I was on a camping adventure.  There was even a big pine tree growing by the back door, reminding me of many Colorado camping trips.  After spending two summers “camping” and being pregnant with my second child we thought it better to end that trip and bought a house.

When the market went to shit in Las Vegas and we made the mistake of re-financing beyond our means we lost our home we had for eleven years.  So we started a new adventure in Arizona.  While most of my family lives there I was not really close to them.  I had spent 17 years in Vegas, I did not know them and they certainly did not know me.  They thought they did after reading all our private letters and journals, something I think they are proud of.  I do not think they would like me to do that to them. Actually, the thought to do that would not cross my mind.

A week before Christmas they kicked us out with our twelve year old son.  They have lied, stolen, and have turned into people I do not know.  I had an awesome childhood which makes what they did even more hard to deal with.  Something changed when my maternal grandparents passed away.  I know in my heart there is not a chance this would be happening if my grandfather were alive.

My grandfather’s favorite holiday was Christmas, and I think he sat in Heaven watching what was being done to his great grandchild, and if you can get pissed in the afterlife, I am certain he was.  My son was in a hotel room with his mom and dad who were on the verge of breakdown, while my parents got drunk with my daughter on a little holiday vacation at a bar in Laughlin.  Something is very wrong with that.

Two weeks after we were kicked out and we had been living in hotels, I told my son to think of this as an adventure.  I even said we could just live in hotels for a year while I wrote about our adventures.  Nothing is as easy as it sounds and hotels got expensive.  A twelve year old needs to be in school, not sitting in a McDonald’s on my laptop while his father and I figured out a way to get 60 dollars for a night at hotel in the ghetto.

A few weeks ago I was talking to my son about our adventures and he said something I will never forget.  He said “Mom, I am all adventured out.”  It broke my heart to hear him say that because I knew this adventure was not the kind my grandmother was talking about.  However, this adventure taught him to have compassion for others I have never seen, especially in a twelve-year-old.  Everyone we have come across has told me what a helpful and kind kid he is.  Teachers are telling me he is intelligent and articulate.  That being said, our adventure has done damage to his trust in people and given him a fear and an uncertainty a child should not have to deal with.

I know there are families and children who have horrible lives compared to ours.  I thank God every day for what we do have and I know it will only get better.  We will have the adventures my grandmother talked about, and our son will learn to trust again.

 

Doing Christmas…The Fest Way-Part One

I woke up on Christmas with my head throbbing.  I had not slept very long and had wasted too many hours trying to respond to more bullshit.  We were a week out, and I was still being accused of things I could not make up if tried.  I kept waiting for anyone in my family to explain what the hell was going on.  They must have been busy with the holidays and all the joy that comes with it this year.

King Shit’s email on the night of the 18th was full of “blah, blah”.  However,  one sentence stood out, ” I’d have to tell him about the Dumb Shit’s missing DVD player and drugs that were gone after you both were over there cleaning.”  The person KS wants to tell is my son, because apparently KS has no ability to decipher sarcasm. There was a lot more he would “have to tell him”.  I saved him the trouble and printed it out. Now my son can use the wisdom it contains as a guide to get through life.

My father had also sent an email about the mysterious “missing” items.  I did not read it until after K.S’s ramble, but his included a little more F-you in it.  His let me know that my mother had felt so bad she bought Dumb Shit a new DVD player.  If anyone would have bothered to ask, we would have given her one of five that we own.  I often wonder what they think I was going to do with another one, pawn it for fifty cents of crack?  Oh, wait I guess it would be for fifty cents worth of the same “pills” they all take.

Since every dime we had been able to scrape up had been to keep a roof over our heads, there was not much for Christmas.  When my son asked if his gifts from everyone were in the truck that was parked by KS’s house I wanted to throw up.  I had sent emails to my parents demanding a few things that only came out because I was pissed.  However, the one demand I did mean was they needed leave their grandson something for Christmas before they went on their “holiday”.

Another family member did tell me later that they did not know where to leave anything. That is ironic because the one person who took ten seconds to think about my son managed to get us some goodies without even seeing us. I remember Christmas as a child, and I know for a FACT that my deceased grandparents would have made sure I had something.  Even if my mother was sitting on the corner smoking crack after stealing their diamond’s to buy it. I guess the fact they think I am not entitled to human decency, runs through my blood into his.

In our mad rush to get out of the Hell House, we left our son’s PS3 in the room.  In a week we had gone from you can come by to get your things anytime to ” step foot on the property and I will call the police.”  Which by now there was no way I would step on the property without the police. So much shit had been made up I had no idea what was going to come next.  Maybe… steal my grandmother’s antiques?

Within two days of the “missing” DVD player KS had spun a little story about “antiques”.  I would like to think that one of them had made a comment to him about how asinine the DVD player sounded.  However, now these were not missing, I was “planning” on stealing them so I think he had digressed a little.  My father did send an email asking if it was true that I was planning on stealing some items from my grandmother that had been under fifty feet of dirt and crap scattered across a half an acre of backyard.

The police followed me to the Hell House to get my son’s PS3 on Christmas Day.  I had promised him I would get it and I do not promise my kids anything unless I know I can make it happen.  However, if I had known KS was going to play dirty I might have thought twice before making that one…