The Adventures of Snapple S. or SnappleS

Red Bellied Parrot, which is really dark orange with all of the colors of the rainbow where it isn't orange below the breastbone, and expressive amber eyes; handsome. He was named Snapple because when one of the pet store employees would go out for their Snapple iced tea while this one was out on the counter, he would go for it quickly and take a drink.

Snapple had been in the store nine months when a manager who had seen my son and me for supplies and talking about our birds said Snapple 'would be good with us'. Little did I know then Snapple didn't take well with most of the other employees apart from two people, including the sales-adept manager. Another employee was happy to see him go when I finally went in to get him for a reduced price, which still wasn't cheap.

He's a medium parrot, though he can draw blood, I later found out after he became territorial in his new space, though he's compliant when he's in unfamiliar surroundings. He's done more major damage to furnishings than me, and fortunately my son has stayed clear.

Over this holiday weekend, as most mornings, Snapple has been repeating words the pet store manager taught him, mostly when I'm not in the room and can't hear all of them. 'Snapple's a good boy' is one, 'Hey, baby' is another, with chuckles and whistles added in. What I say that I've heard him repeat up to now is "No".

Staying in for a long weekend to get needed housework done, I resorted to using instant tea in a wide rimmed plastic cup (Tervis), to avoid going out for more preferable drinks. Snapple was on my head. I'd seen him on the rim of my coffee cup before when walking back into the kitchen, so I offered up the cup at my head, unable to see.

My son had even purchased tea at Dunkin Donuts in a styrofoam cup. We didn't know the rim surface was a factor. Snapple hadn't gone for it. Yesterday, as the cup was at my forehead, I felt the weight shift from my head onto the cup. I was able to bring the cup down to see what was happening.

Snapple was going for the tea, and doing his bobbing dance he had also learned at the pet store, or that's where it started. After taking a couple of sips, he looked straight at me and said "I love you." for the first time, in the same room. It was only the second thing I'd heard him say that was from me after "No". And it was only a few moments later that he bit me again, leaving welts (not blood, this time) that sent him back to 'his room'.

When my son was born, I exercised the option of giving him his father's last name, who was in the room during the birth (regrettably, I would have rather had a mirror at the other side of my crotch to see what was happening myself, without him). It was my choice, the naming thing, too. It was a courtesy of consideration and acknowledgement, after he'd signed the paternity papers, in the event anything happened to me 'in the short term', for the baby (had I only known...).

Snapple's behavior reminds me of just one reason why we're no longer together. One way in your presence, another with others. Nice one moment, cruel or inconsiderate the next. Breaking or carelessly losing things of value, and using sometimes irreplaceable resources. Since being with my child, omitting my last name from the child's name.

So as of this last 'I love you.' moment to moment episode Snapple has become SnappleS, as in 'Snapple's a good boy'. Well, it depends on whom you ask, and when.

Good night, Love.

I remembered, then forgot, then remembered again. Made it this month, which is more than I can say for other things. Son asleep after a long overnight at camp; he needed the rest. Just happy he's home safe and sleeping comfortably, after a camp night on the floor. Not the best 24 hours he's had, though maybe not the worst, either. Either way, it exhausted him and he actually went to bed early, by saying he wanted to lie down for a little while, then didn't get up: big surprise. Had him move from head at the bottom to under the covers with his head on the pillow, then lights off and nightlight on, precious as ever. Could say more, but won't. Not because I don't want to, it's just that going into the other ails of the world is really no comparison, and meant for another time and place. Once in awhile, less is more.

Overwhelm, again.

Started a week ago or more, and couldn't finish. Way too much going on no single parent should ever have to deal with. The upside is being with son when he isn't in summer camp. He is now officially bigger than I am, yet still a very young teen, with many things unresolved. He loves our home family, and is enjoying the summer so far.

The Fourth was a bit of a bust from the peripherals of Hurricane Arthur, and though the day was not eventful with cancellations and rain after we'd already made the trip, I'm still grateful we were together. The storm affected others more adversely and we were unharmed. This is made a point to the young man as often as possible, to keep things in perspective.

Waiting to win the lottery, or something similar. Just heard on the radio this morning someone went on a crowdsourcing site for $10 to make potato salad and ended up with $35,000. I guess anything is possible.

Mayday, mayday

The cats are out of the bag. In more than one place; I'm almost relieved for one, and nearly indifferent for the other, which is not how I felt before. The fear was greater than the result in these instances, and as Newton's Law says, 'for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction'.

So I now do not have to initiate, only respond, and the template has been created, so the way is paved. Now moving on is a little easier, if only what now feels like by a degree; something is better than nothing.

I'm too mature and far along in my career to buy into brainwashing or popular "knowledge" that is not based in fact. My conscience is clear; I cannot be made a scapegoat, however popular a target I may be. It had to be somebody, and just as well me as anyone else, for now. This just turns on the 'everyperson' mechanism and gets the wheels turning so that whatever happens is not just for me. It's for the others who have been voiceless, until the words got out.

Happy Spring?

It's too cold for too long in this part of the country, though I feel there is no basis in complaining given the extreme devastating weather conditions that have taken lives and homes in the last week alone, with more storms predicted on the horizon. I remain grateful for not being further affected by yet another storm, and sensitive to what others may be going through. As not all family is with me, this is also a source of anxiety, and a reminder that safety can often be an illusion, because no one can escape the wrath of nature.

A main concern is how much of this is man made from climate change and decades of abuse to the environment. What can we do to minimize or offset this? It's too late for some, and too often greed overrides the value of human life. So long as there is no accountability, someone will try to get what they can even knowing it can take someone's life as a result of their potential gain. These were once someone's children (individuals who infringe on others' lives without remorse), who learned from someone else that taking from others is normal and acceptable, with no basis for comparison such as a capacity for compassion or empathy.

Our children belong to everyone, and we are hurting ourselves by looking the other way when we witness children being taught that winning at all costs has consequences that can hurt them and others at some point, if not immediately. Authority has no meaning if who seeks and maintains power has no conscience for the consequences of their actions. It will have to end sooner or later, though how many will suffer and die before the rest of us stop looking the other way and start stepping up. It isn't someone else's job to fix. Anyone not taking action is a helping bystander. It's not a new concept; it's been around for generations, and it would appear every generation has a large population that is not open or exposed to what is natural law. Short term gain only renders long term loss when only in the interest of those who think only for themselves at the expense of others.

State of Overwhelm

The end of the month was a Monday, that should be enough, though it isn't. Anytime the last day of the month is missed on 'Blog Day' there is too much going on for one person. Namely me. My child is the eye of the storm, in a good way, and it has been said the eye of the storm is the calmest place, which is not always true either.

I'm supposed to be wrong in saying a child can be the center of my universe, though if it were not for that child the Universe would not be what it is. Everything I do now is because of having become a parent, with experiences many parents cannot imagine, and that I would not wish on a so-called enemy. Everything that happens is already on top of something else. Some would say a chose this; if there's a parallel universe, the explanation is there. I don't have it at the moment. I have to be thankful no matter what, because someone else always has it worse. If nothing else, that is what the experience has taught me. That is no consolation, however, when what has happened involves one's only child that should not ever happen at all. To date, there has been no accountability, and what help was sought at the most critical time made things much worse, that has now compounded over time and the damages are irreversible. To stay positive or focused during such a years-long real life nightmare and remaining sane is a feat in and of itself. Handling others' similar experiences as a vocation is one way, though the vicarious trauma without anothers' being resolved is often simply too much to handle. Rest will not solve it, though it will allow for thoughts and processing that during other moments can be impossible. In this physical experience, there are limits. And the freedom to think productively can be critical.

Still others have it worse, and no matter how many times it's said, there is no consolation.

Belated Valentine's

Next to my favorite boy, Valentine gifts passed on for the first time this year. Just happy to be in the same place having arrived safely with the most important person in my world.

Asking..."the secret"

...gotten so much more by asking, and taking risks, especially since feeling like life may either end from abuse or cancer, which have both happened at different times. Realizing you have been spared for a reason is powerful, though at the same time we witness things every day that make no sense, like children suffering needlessly so that others can profit, and God help the 'whisteblowers'.

In a nutshell, the journey is far from over, though pride and shame is lost when you've felt so close to death, or you're fighting for the life of a child or children. After such experiences, you're much less afraid to look silly or do things others may criticize. Just find more [who prosper], and do what they do, whenever possible: easier said than done.

...would agree with all of this, with the exception of many trying to come out of poverty or abusive relationships caught in systemic webs that all but completely sabotaged them in their last resort efforts in seeking 'help'.

A New Year's Eve To Remember

Car out. Son in. Santa was unable to deliver what was ordered, as an elf decided to keep them for himself, or something like that. So the money went back into the account, and I woke up the next morning with phone calls to make before a wonderful child woke up. I had agreed to keep the money until he could locate another of what the elf decided to keep, which he said shortly after awakening would be a week or so.

Had already made most of the necessary business calls, and had also pulled out of the coat pocket the business card of the privately owned pet store where a rather rare pink bird had been admired over time, since one of our other beloveds had suddenly passed and I had been quickly looking for another similar, so the grief would not be so bad for so long. In that earlier search the pink oversized parakeet/undersized parrot had been seen. Had been back since having found another like the one we had lost, to consider the possibility and logistics of transporting another during the holiday season with family visits on the agenda. It was mental gymnastics, for days on end until the day before, when the car seemed to have other plans.

It could have been worse: a total loss for costs equivalent to the value of the car, which turned out to be only a percentage of that, as if the price tag were bearable, which it really wasn't. Won't have recovered from not seeing family on a critical day and time for quite awhile yet. Wonderful Son made it as bearable as possible. Would not have wanted to spend that kind of time with anyone else.

Upon explaining what remained of the day and discussing the days ahead, the bird came into the conversation, and Son's eyes lit up at the same time his body seemed to fill with energy. He was dressed and ready to leave sooner than any other day in recent memory.

The taxi arrived in front of where breakfast had been planned sooner than anticipated, so we got in and picked up breakfast at the destination instead, a few doors from the pet store, which turned out to be better. There was another bird he liked just as much or better; there were three of them, and one of the rare one. We played with all of them, then decided on the latter, for today.

Just like who could not take the place of our first lost beloved, though loved as much than before, being in between the fabric of his clothing layers, this one today was just as friendly and took to him just as much, in her own unique way.

It was hard to leave again out into the cold after holding her and introducing her to her new home, though we managed to get to dinner at one of his favorite restaurants and get back before the festivities of the evening could be felt on the streets, while holiday lights still flickered and moved in front lawns on the way home. He had been so wonderful, and today had been no exception. The joy of the day was fleeting; it has been hard keeping the sadness of tomorrow at bay, until we are together again.

"Blog Day"

The last day of the month, except when I'm completely overwhelmed and forget what day it is, even if I've thought of it earlier in the day. Not even a blip on the radar from disclosing a 'family secret' from anyone who is even remotely connected, not that I expected any necessarily. If anything, I expected someone to be angry. No one in particular, really. It shows just how much people actually link to what's provided in an email signature, or where it might be otherwise located.

It had to come out: the only time I can ever remember while still very young being 'happy' upon finding out that someone had died. He was loved by his mother, the author of a hand written family saga with a much better memory for names and people than I have right now. He was also a child predator, of family members. Nothing all that new given the statistics; it just so happens it was in our family, too. The fact is this came out after the victim(s) were far into adulthood; old enough to be a grandparent themselves. The truth is it came out when it was happening, and nothing was done, nothing I was made aware of.

Maybe there was a threat by a father who was more abusive in a different way; maybe he was never asked to come around again to do 'handyman work' around our house. One thing is for sure, if Grandpa had been told, his nephew (I didn't know he was a blood relation at the time), our family handyman may have mysteriously disappeared, off the planet.

Grandpa was a strong positive patriarch, 'man of the church', and former police officer, with lots of guns, as all the male relatives had in those parts, in those days. Grandpa had no 'record', of course, though had he found out his granddaughter had been affected multiple times by this person, 'heaven only knows' what the consequences may have been. Maybe that was what the adults involved were afraid of in not letting it get very far, at all.

All the child knew at the time was that no one did anything, even when they told. And it wasn't the first time something had happened. There were others, like the next door neighbors before we had moved. No memory if anyone was told until again in adulthood, which was met with anger for causing stress. What about the child? What about feeling at the time that no one would listen or do anything anyway.

Grandpa only had a second grade education, forced to go work in the coal mines at age ten for literally pennies. He was wise and smart, and fortunate to be a hard worker not bound by educational requirements in being able to earn a living and provide for his family, unlike today. I wish he had known enough to go to the police himself after he had retired when I was being bullied in school to recover something precious that we knew who took it. The emotional impact was the same. Don't bother telling or 'pushing it', 'you're not worth it', no one will care enough to make it right: that's how it felt. It's what I won't forget, and how I can remember and feel or understand a child's emotions.