She Knows

There’s a lady who’s sure

All who laugh soon will cry.

All who live one day die.

All who fly often fall

And with no warning at all

All that’s bright turns to black

And there’s no turning back

Because this fate bestowed to her

Also makes her quite sure...

That is life.

But she’s also quite sure...

All that shines is the sun

And that work can be fun

And her children may run,

But they run through her soul

And that makes her feel whole.

Her true friends are quite merry

And it all seems so very

Trite yet so true

That along with her fear

Is that which makes her fly.

So she rings in the new year

With a tear in her eye

Mixed with grit and misgiving...

It's all part of living. 

The Redirection

As most of you know, my ex-husband, father of my kids, and my best friend for half my life died in August. Undeniably, for me, the most unendurable part of Brian's death is witnessing the pain that my children carry with them, and realizing that they will carry it with them for the rest of their lives. We deal with each issue as it arises and I'm learning that humor, used as a redirection, rather than logic, is the only thing that helps alleviate some of that pain. And that makes me perfect for the job.  Challenge accepted. 

Attempted Logic:
The kids had to make their final trip to Brian's house to pack up and remove the remainder of their belongings as the house is going up for sale. Maya said that it was rough, and that it brought back too many memories. When she got home, she said that she feels like she keeps losing things, and asked me to start driving her to school in the mornings.

Maya: Mom, pleeeease don't make me take the bus next week!
Me: Sorry baby, I have to get to work on time, plus I have pep squad carpool. 
Maya: Daddy always took me to school on his days. I will never have a ride to school again! I miss my daddy!
Me (attempting to hug her as she squirms away): Your daddy is always with you in your heart, honey, and I can take you another day, but not next week. Besides, all your friends will be on the bus. You always sit next to your best friend, so it should be fun!
Maya: How much fun did you have riding your stupid pteradactyl to school?!?! (Marches out-slams door-yells something that sounded Russian.)
FAIL

Attempted Humor:
On Friday, we headed off to a high school football game. Samantha was performing at half time, the weather was Friday night lights perfect, we had our bellies full of Ben & Jerry's cotton candy ice cream (The kind with real pieces of cotton candy inside!), and life was good. And then it was not. 

On the sidelines, the cheerleaders got to perform with their dads. The fathers and daughters laughed and hugged and acted silly. Maya got quiet, held her head high and her face started to quiver. She tried to force her tears to withdraw from public scrutiny, and succeeded. 

Maya: Mother, is it some sort of a family legacy that I have to be a cheerleader?"

Me:  No way. Please do something different.

Maya:  Good. Because I am tired of people asking where my father is and having to tell them that he's dead, and then they ask me more questions.

Me: Not a problem! Next time anyone asks where your father is, simply lie and tell them your mother is a lesbian! I promise they will have no more questions after that. They'll just smile and walk away. 

Maya: Can I really?!?!

Me: Anything for you, kid. And if they are politically correct folks, they will also give you a pat on the back and say "How nice!" and then walk away. 

Maya (finally laughing): Thank you lesbian mom!! But what if a five year old asks me about Dad and doesn't know what a lesbian is?

Me:  Tell her your dad's a squirrel and he is busy in the tree playing with his nuts.

Maya (Gives me that look, you know, the one where I know I've gone too far again): Organizing his nuts, Mom. He always liked to clean. 

Me:  Sure - much better. Perfect.

Maya (big hug): You're the best mom ever!

NAILED IT!

I believe that all people, not just young ones, need a little redirection some times. There are many different tools that people use for redirection. Some use sex, some use alcohol, some use vacations, and some use a sense of humor. I find that humor is best because it will not get you pregnant, give you a hangover, or cost a lot of money. Ironically though, it was a sense of humor that helped to redirect me after the shock of finding out that I was pregnant after too much alcohol during my trip to South Padre. That's right, Julia was the result of multiple redirections! And I've gone too far again. Sorry... Let's redirect once more... 

Dear parents, HUMOR simply works! Even if your kids don't laugh with you, they will laugh at you, or tweet whatever dumb thing you said so their friends will laugh at you, or simply get annoyed that you even consider yourself funny. And if any of those things happen, you have successfully redirected them out of whatever black hole they fell into. I truly believe that a sense of humor is the key to a happy marriage, lasting friendships, and, if my kids are telling me the truth (which is a 70-30 chance, give or take), it is also the key to being an awesome parent.  

IN MEMORY OF BRIAN PATRICK ABELOW...

An awesome parent, whose legacy is the laughter he left behind to fill the empty hearts of those who miss him dearly. Because he was one funny dude!

The Present

Tonight something cool happened. I had a rare 45 minutes alone in the house, and I danced like an 80s white girl around the kitchen in my underwear to Erasure, to get ready for the concert on Sunday, while making a cake for the AHS premier gathering on Wednesday. And somewhere during that process, I climbed out of the crap I was buried in, and I felt just fine. How strange is it that a musical trip to the past while looking forward to stuff in the future can lead me back to the present? The present is the only place that a person can truly live, with a sprinkle of remembrance of the past and a dash of an eye toward the future.  My problem, Reader, is that I am always thinking and I tend to live in my head, instead of out in the real world. It feels more comfortable in there but I know it keeps me from really living. Because life is not comfort, it is actually something closer to pain. There is no perfect life, but there are moments in our life, like the one I had tonight, where everything is just fine. And it is in these moments that I feel joy, that the sun shines a little brighter, that I know that life is worth the struggle, that I feel hope and excitement for the future, and that I realize if I'm going to dance around the kitchen in my underwear, I really need to buy curtains. 

Life is too short, dear Reader. Don't stop L-I-V-I-N-G. Hold on to the moments. They are a present that you'll only find in the present.   

EPILOGUE: I never know if people "get" me, or have the same experiences as I do, so I asked a guy friend if men have those moments, like the ones I wrote about, where everything is just fine.  He said, "Not really, we have porn." Well! Guess I can't write for everyone. Stay gold Porneyboy, and thanks again to all of you who "get" me - keep laughing.

Good Grief

Maya (my 8 year old):  I'm sorry you're so angry all the time.

Me:  I'm not angry all the time. Why would you think that?

Maya:  Because you go to a therapist.

Me:  I go because I am sad and confused and want to learn how to be a good mom because you  are sad and confused too.

Maya: Well that's stupid. Then why do they call it a "thera pissed?"

Baby Mine

Dear Julia,

Sometime yesterday, after your sister said she hated you, and then you called her an asshole, and then I yelled at everyone, and then you slammed the door and drove off, I began missing you.

I don't know why I feel so broken right now. I've been crying since you left. There is still one week to go until you drive off for good, leaving the nest, my arms and our little family, to head off across the world, to San Marcos, Texas. 

I do know that I am proud of you because when I was your age I didn't have much self esteem, I didn't make good choices, I didn't help my parents with anything, I didn't like grown ups because I was nowhere near being a grown up, I didn't know what I wanted, I didn't like to work hard. I was nothing like you. But still, the feeling that I made too many mistakes is killing me, because I am out of time to teach you, and you are out of patience to listen. The fact that we now have a close relationship seems short of a miracle.

It was during the divorce that I lost you. You blamed me at first until you were old enough to figure it out on your own. The beginning of the end, though, was when you were around 12 and we had that brief cancer scare when your semi-neurotic mother noticed those lumps on you, which were quickly diagnosed as growing boobs. The side effects of growing boobs, oddly, caused extreme moodiness. Although I'm sure there were more, my last memory of laughter with you back then was when you taught me the Soulja Boy dance in 6th grade. After that, you pulled away. Everything was kept a secret from me like the undetectable internet you downloaded onto my computer, the boys you didn't want me to know about, the clothes you snuck out of the house to change into at school, and the out of town trips you took in your car without permission. I want you to know, as you enter the big world as an adult, you now have my permission to have a MySpace account, date boys, dress like a hoochie, and drive wherever you want without having "The Club" steering wheel lock ground your car.  

I feel like I made mistakes with you where I was too strict in some areas and too lenient in others, especially after the divorce and fallout that followed. I was too overwhelmed to do a great job and I am out of chances to do better. I am afraid that the reason you are so tough is because your life was too hard. I am afraid you are so sensitive because your feelings were hurt too much. I am afraid that the reason you date mean boys is because I didn't divorce soon enough. I am afraid that you fight with your sisters because I didn't have enough time to give you the attention you wanted. I am afraid you listen to that horrible music because you have some hearing problem I never followed up on.

I am afraid you will move away and not need me anymore.  That last one is the worst fear of all, because in the last few years you became my best friend again. I cannot bear losing you twice.

So, lose you I will not as I have decided that in lieu of sending you money when you leave, I will make you earn it by coming to visit at a rate of $20 per hour of quality time. Not a joke.  Make arrangements in advance.

I learned everything there is to know about love the day you were born. I hope you are grateful that I didn't include a single quote from Dr. Seuss' "Oh, The Places You'll Go" this time. I will instead leave you with a unique yet poignant quote from one of your favorite rappers, Wiz Khalifa:

"Damn I need yo love like a weed stick. Bein' wit out you is like Kathy no Regis."

But still, I'll say goodbye...

Love, 

Mom 

The Aliens

I know many people don't believe that beings from other planets have visited Earth, but I do. I wrote an argumentative paper about it once, but lacked substantial proof.  I have that now.

An alien has taken over the brain of my sweet young teenager.  I am still collecting data, but all I know for sure is that this creature is a dick. 

Update- study halted as creature appears to have vacated the premises.  My sweet child is safe!

Update- it is back again. This time with more ammunition. The language barrier apparently frustrates it as it keeps repeating "You don't understand! Go away!" I will patiently attempt to continue communication. I believe this creature phones home often as it becomes agitated if I move near cell phone. My timeline shows correlation to a certain period of the lunar calendar. I believe it has aging powers as my hair is beginning to grey. This creature will stop at nothing to prove that its intelligence supersedes mine. Chocolate, cash and my absence seems to appease it temporarily. 

Parents, please keep your daughters safe.  I will cautiously continue my research. 

Fine Dining

While I was dining at an adorable new restaurant the other day, the darling little girl who owned the restaurant came and sat with me when my food arrived. She told me about her life - how she was a famous singer and decided to take a break from it all to open a restaurant. I learned so much from talking to her.  How the simple life of owning a restaurant was more enjoyable than being perpetually on the road; that when fans recognize her she finds it annoying but knows that she wouldn't have been famous without her fans; that the reason all of the food she serves is blue is because she couldn't find the other containers of play-doh; and that I ruin everything when I accidentally call her Maya. She told me that her husband was famous too and that his name was Justin Timberlane. She shared with me that it was very sad to be away from him so much as he was always away on tour. I asked her if it was also hard on their marriage, with him being away and with girls flirting with him. She said, "No way! We have a STRONG marriage!" I asked my wise 8 year old what the secret was to a strong marriage, and she said, "That's easy. When you ask each other for something, always say "Okay." I was a bit disappointed at the answer.  Not only because if true, that would be impossible for someone like me, but also because I had hoped I hadn't raised my kid to be mousy. So I asked, "Well, what if you have big plans and he asks you to clean the house, sweep the chimney and scrub the floors????" "I would say 'OKAY' of course." she laughed and said "Then I would call a maid!" While I sat at my table feeling relief and a little bit of concern for Mr. Timberlane, she charged $7,489.25 to my credit card and told me to have a nice day. 

Black or White 2.0

Totally unrelated to my previous entry...

I bought a new charger for my iPhone. Apparently, the black iPhone chargers are three times longer than the white ones. True story. 

Black or White

Well, hello there! I haven't been writing much.  My book is on hold.  My blog's getting old.  I have been, instead, focusing my energy on other meaningful activities that truly make me a better person: contemplating world peace, followed by shopping and Netflix. 

The perfect combination of Season 8 of How I Met Your Mother, Season 3 of Scandal, coupled with active efforts to eliminate human malignancy then a trip to the mall propels me to the platform necessary for me to combat bigotry, hatred, and mean people in general in a single bound.  This is me, in bed, armed with a laptop and credit card debt, sending out a plea to all of you to be kind to one another.  

I have been exposed to many hateful and toxic people in my life. Men who feel superior, and women who feel inferior - acting out by trying to make others feel small, spraying the people around them like crazed tomcats so they feel big, and to avoid confronting their own inner conflict and emotions. Hate spreads like a virus from person to person.  Be aware of your words.  Be aware of how your choices affect others. Be harmless. Be careful what you put out in the world. Hate is contagious, and in groups, often deadly.

My middle child claims she only hates three things:  the emu, Stitch from "Lilo and Stitch" and dragonflies.  She is not sure why she hates emus, but when she was four, Stitch, at the Disney parade, pretended to pick his nose and flick a booger at her. It's time for her to get past that, but the dragonflies - they are everywhere and according to her, "They climb on top of each other, fly around attached, then land on me. They stare straight at me Mom, and I'm not stupid,  I know what they're doing!"  Fair enough.

Despite all of my efforts, however, to teach my kids to love all people equally, and to judge them by who they are in their hearts, I was not able to get through to my oldest child. She judges people by the color of their skin. And will only date black boys. Technically she's a racist if she never goes back, right? 

My youngest child emits a ton of pure love and joy into the world.  At our recent trip to Disney, she twirled around in her Elsa dress and exclaimed, "Look at me! I'm a damsel in this dress!" She declared constantly that, "ALL MY DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE!" The only thing she hates, really, are zombies.  Last night she dreamt that zombies had broken into our house and were trying to eat us.  I held her in my arms, stroked her hair gently, and reminded her that ALL HER DREAMS COME TRUE! That last sentence never happened.  I think it's time to stop writing.

As I move on to Orange is the New Black dear reader, I leave you with a suggestion to take the time to understand yourself, understand your aggression, and work through it until you are able to practice empathy.  If you cannot, talk to someone who can help you. Only then will you be able to understand those around you. You may be surprised to find that everything isn't black or white.  

Life is a Fractured Fairy Tale

The thing they never tell you is that people break like bones. Sometimes wholly. Sometimes only when the weather changes. But sometimes your life, your essence, your reality has a limp that stays with you for keeps. The people around you may notice, often slightly, but occasionally undeniably, that you are defective. Many will have words, gods, potions or platitudes to mute the wound so that no one has to hear any more about it.  And others, they just stay away. All believe they have the answers, that is, until they break too, unlike you, but just the same. 

Beautiful, Hopeful and Dark is Life, Frankly

Lonely morning sunshine 

Glides along the unhappy window.

Fresh, pure freedom within.

Missing happiness and nature.

Strong belief exists in sleep.

God's depth climbed up to the heavens.

Someone's lovely wishes blow outside. 

Written By: Samantha Abelow, age 13

Using only words found in Anne Frank's diary

The Test

"I don't understand why we still have to go to math and English the rest of the year. The STAAR test is over!" said my exhausted daughter on the way to school this morning. 

Despite having intelligent, caring and creative educators to teach my child what she needs to know, the message of why she needs to know remains safely tucked away deep in the heart of Texas.

The fact that there are people who believe that passing this test was my child's crowning moment truly upsets me. Everyone knows she came out of the box a long time ago.

Used Car

There is no analogy for dealing with car salesman that doesn't entail half of the word analogy. 

Oh, Miley

Dear Concerned Parents,

You are too freaked out about the dangers of your teen attending the Miley Cyrus concert!     

When I was younger, I went to an AC/DC concert and didn't take the Highway to Hell. I went to a Van Halen concert and David Lee Roth's backless pants didn't make me promiscuous. Ronnie James Dio did not turn me into a War Pig. Ozzy Osborne did not propel me to urinate on the Alamo. The Red Hot Chili Peppers concert did not make me rock with a sock on my cock. And the Erasure concert didn't make me a Victim of Love. Or super gay. Madonna did, however, make me wear a fake mole on my face and a bunch of bracelets for about a year. And the Cheap Trick concert taught me to Surrender without giving myself away. And even though Triumph told me that I've got the Magic Power of the music in me, I believed Rush, and always chose Free Will. Tommy Tutone apparently had the greatest influence over my brain as I still, on occasion, feel compelled to call Jenny's number.  But I am still Jewish after Depeche Mode begged me to get my own personal Jesus. And also, sadly to date, after attending two Aerosmith concerts I have yet to experience Love In An Elevator.  And I turned out okay. 

You have worked hard and have done a wonderful job with your kids, parents.  Let them enjoy the music of their generation! Even if you don't understand it. 

Sincerely, 

Jessie's Girl 

Ronnie James Dio circa 1980s

Spring Break

My 18 year old is off to South Padre Island for Spring Break. As this is her first big road trip that she has actually told me about, I wanted to give her parenting advice that she would listen to, without getting upset with me.

Now, pay attention parents:

Incorporating stupid little emojis in a text message will miraculously transform your annoying and condescending message into an adorable fun-filled message.  She read my entire message:

To which she replied (emoji included):

Mission accomplished!

Learn to speak the language of this new strange generation. And they will listen. 

And that being said, listening and doing are sadly two different things. When I was 18, I was on the road to California. Because I thought I was Jack Karouak.  FML. 

I am now left with nothing more than my "Karma is a Bitch" emoji. 

And perhaps this one too. 

Wishing you and your kids a fun and safe spring break, and don't forget to talk to your children, not at them. They just may listen.  

The Munchkin Games

I think it is very important to teach your children survival skills. Mine can create meals from what little is in the pantry before payday, coerce their teachers into extra credit when they are failing, and steal each other's clothes without detection. 

As a single mom with three daughters, my children have also learned a skill that I call "Survival of the Sweetest," which sport is also know as "The Munchkin Games." 

Most recently, after growing bored of being my center of attention during graduation, Eldest Child, when asked to clean her room, committed a technical foul which got her ass ejected from the game, and sent straight to her room.

Youngest Child quickly went to work at the free throw line and created the following, once again reclaiming her position as MVP: 

She has learned to use cuteness as a weapon, and armed with only 1,10023 exquamashon marx in her love letter, she found herself victorious. A slam dunk was made by combining true love and a drawing of me with thin arms, while skillfully omitting the thighs altogether. 

Unfortunately, Middle Child, in a flawless stealth-like rebound, slept all day after a late night sleepover and took the lead by proving to be The Quiet Child, earning herself a three point trip to the mall without her sisters. The old "Seen and Not Heard" move is a timeless Munchkin Games classic, which is always appreciated, especially when mom has a headache.

In an effort to get back in the game in the fourth quarter, Eldest Child agreed to clean her room, but let the team down by taking a nap instead. Even though she is my Allstar, she will be benched the next two games, and, if she continues to play poorly, could possibly become a free agent or traded for a hamster.

It's a well known fact that reading, writing and arithmetic can only get you so far in this kid eat kid world. If you want to survive, respect your grown ups! 

Let the Munchkin Games begin! May the odds be ever in your favor! And don't forget: A brown nose will get you a gold star every time.

Throwback Thursday

It was not easy for me being a mom of three. When my third was born, I was lost, confused, somewhat abused, overwhelmed and underappreciated.

Luckily, I learned the secret to true happiness:  A SENSE OF HUMOR!

Please forgive me Maya. But in all fairness, you did keep me up all night and change my bra size.

   

The King

A couple years ago, Maya came home from Kindergarten excited to tell me that "Today I learned about our King!"

I explained to her that we live in the United States where we are ruled by democracy, rather than monarchy, and elect our leaders by voting. "You must have learned about the president, not the king." I said.

"No! You are not listening! I learned about our king!" she yelled as I obviously overspoke the 15 word limit my children allow me.

"Um... Prince Charles?" I tried.

"Did you not ever go to school?  I said THE KING! He was very famous."

"Oh Elvis!!!!  Hunka hunka burnin' love!" I sang, dancing around and feeling pretty proud of myself.

She ran into kitchen, frustrated and madder than a wet cat. "Forget it! You never listen! Just leave me alone!"

How do I always manage to aggravate my kids? Is it the sound of my voice? My lack of hipness?

As I knew better than to press any further, I quietly walked into the foyer and searched through her backpack where I found HIM. Our King!!!!

His picture still hangs on our wall to remind me to always choose love over hate, that we are all created equal, and that no matter what I say or do, I am bound to piss off my kids. 

.

Oh Deer

I killed my first deer this week. I understand this to be a beloved tradition this time of year. Most Texans have done this by the age of 12. My boss uses a bow and arrow. I used my car. 

The insurance adjuster wasn't very empathic about the deer dying. It was traumatic for my kids though. They had many questions about death and something called "deductible" that made mommy cry. Sometimes the only way to quiet a child is with Steve Jobs Duct Tape. I handed them an iPad and drove home in silence. 

"I was disgusted at how many people asked me if I kept that poor deer to eat. I would never purposely kill an animal and eat it!" I said that night at dinner as I took a bite out of my hamburger that came from meat the way God intended. With a side order of fries out of a Whataburger bag. 

The Circle

My daughter's baby announcement read "Our world is now complete..."

As I sit here 18 years later, writing her graduation announcement, all I have typed is "My world is now broken."

Have you ever cried in a way that was so important that you didn't want to wipe the tears away?  Have you ever worn your tears because the anguish was so deep that if you wiped them away, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself?  

I am aware of the fact that when I have mascara all over my face, I don't look heartbroken, I look like Ozzy Osborne. And I'm aware of the fact that when I explain the depth of my love and emotion to my 18 year old, I don't sound devoted. I sound annoying. And I'm aware of the fact that, although I feel like the postergirl for motherhood, I am the postergirl for birth control. But I'm simply not aware of any easy way at all to let my baby go.  I didn't get enough time.  I am not done. 

I have some ideas:

1) Slash the tires on her car so she can't leave me.

2) Drink Vodka.

That's all I've got.  Shit. 

The circle of life sucks. But I guess it's the only circle given.  So I write..

When she was little, she was my baby, 

I was her world. She held my hand.

When she got older, I was her harbor, 

She raised her sail for her world to expand.

I watch with wonder and sadness and pain 

Excitement and pride she won't understand

Till she has a baby that makes her the world. 

Then she'll watch with wonder. She'll hold her hand. 

And life will go on - ready or not,

For better or worse, the way that God planned. 

Rachelle Abelow,

Writer/Annoying Mother 

The Reflection

As I reflect on the past year, I would like to share some things I have discovered:

1) Many people are suffering from anguish, heartbreak, grief, fear, dejection or pain. Some more than others. 

2) It is these people that tend to be the most empathetic.

3) This must mean that anguish, heartbreak grief, fear, dejection and pain make us better and kinder people.
4) Keep living.
5) It gets better.

6) Everyone says "Next year will be better!" This makes no sense because years are only increments of time that don't change.  

7) For things to change in your life, you MUST do things that are uncomfortable. Look closely at yourself and your own faults. Adjust yourself, your choices and your life accordingly. The time to act is yours. How you make it is how you got it.  

8) Unfortunately, sometimes it doesn't matter how you make it. Shit happens.

9) In the midst of a shit storm, it is best to turn up the music and do your best shit dance in your most comfortable shit shoes. There is a bubble bath waiting when it subsides.

10) On New Year's Eve, my kids asked me to resolve to spend more time with them. 

11) Last night they told me to get out of their rooms when I tried to spend time with them.

12) Sometimes resolutions don't last long because we are not ready.

13) My kids have named the baby in my tummy "Billy." They insist that it cannot be short for William or anything fancy. Just "Billy."

14) I am not pregnant. My kids are not funny. My New Year's Resolution is now to lose weight... when I am ready.
15) My favorite exercise is skipping! It is impossible to skip without smiling. Try it. I dare you. 
16) Every time I try something new, my life changes. You CAN teach old dogs new tricks!

17) At my age, I wear only comfortable shoes.  I don't care if they are ugly.
18) If you have personality and a padded bra, nobody will notice your ugly shoes. 

I wish you all a new year filled with home-cooked meals, someone to cuddle (furry or not), the feeling of possibility or adventure on the horizon, music to accompany you, the smell of cookies fresh out of the oven, and the ability to look at the sky with wonder.  This is your year.  It is time....