Time to Start and Why I ever Stopped

Okay, okay, so I admit I might have started for some interior motives and other some truer motives but I had to step back and think a little why I was writing. I always liked writing since I was young. I had a flair for drama or a flair for exaggeration or something the other. I have tried writing comedy, skits, short stories, marketing copy, other blogs, web content and even patents (odd). I started this blog for reasons other than the ones mentioned above. I have suffered a long time with depression ( a self fought battle meaning no medications) and feeling very low, low points of self doubt and internal beating. Hence, the genesis.

I think I mentioned Squirrel and my self wanting a vent. Say what you want when you want. Self therapy? Or just more reason to add more hurt to the pain? Are the forces of the universe really sending back the bad karma to us? Squirrel has been going through a lot. We haven't even seen each other barely. Over the holidays, we saw very little of each other. I am not going through the same as Squirrel. By far, my problems are only a grain of salt in a heap. Therefore, willingly, we have given each other a peaceful friend break. One, to reconstruct and rebuild and two, to give each other space to think. Don't get this wrong. This is break of mutual understanding, the beauty of our new found friendship ( of less than a year but the feeling of one that stems from childhood and familiarity).

I thought "all of this negativity can't be good" not for Squirrel or for myself. Me, my personal frustration with my professional pursuits and almost years of bringing projects to fruition keep meeting obstacles. Squirrel, his personal frustrations with his own failing business and health. Yet, we wanted to soak in our woes and that wasn't working. We were bitching and not doing anything about it. I had to inspire myself to write more woe. Seriously. I had run out of topics so quickly. My range of writing skill was limited to my limitations or his or those of others. Quite depressing. So depressing that I depressed myself right out of writing about it.

So, there are a couple of what I consider very life changing events that have recently happened to make me change.  Well, right not it seems I can muster one event up:

I realized that my negativity towards my mother was bringing me down. Now, that's not shattering but for me it is. I have kept an almost "you owe me" type attitude with her. I would ask my self why I couldn't be loving or more daughterly to my mother? Why didn't I care enough? Quite honestly, I couldn't even bring my self to miss her during our annual year apart. I blamed her for me not caring enough and sometimes not even loving her enough.

In the midst, we are in the middle of a very scary probate matter (which I will spell at one point but not in this post). This event has been very Scary because it has forced me to rethink my childhood, my relationship with my parents, my father's death and my mother's new unknown illnesses. All of this has come about,exactly three years. Now, my resentment is deeply rooted beyond three years and includes my thirty nine years of life however, the tension has been worse these last years. It's unfortunate but it is closely related to inheritance, being a "daughter" in my mother's eyes, being insufficient in her mind which she will not admit and my thinking she has never loved me.

BUT BUT I AM MAKING IT WORSE FOR MYSELF. I HAVE MADE IT WORSE FOR MYSELF. TALKING ABOUT IT. EDGING IT ON. BRINGING ON MY ATTITUDE. IT IS NOT ALL ABOUT ME. IT IS NOT ABOUT ME DESERVING BETTER. YES, I DESERVE BETTER BUT NOT IN THIS, NOT ANYMORE BECAUSE I HAVE CHILDREN TO MAKE THEIR LIVES BETTER. AND THIS IS MY SPRINGING POINT.

We walked in to court about a month ago and I almost fainted thinking about the dreaded fateful outcome hoping that it be positive. And it wasn't so bad. Rewind to the night before and the promise and the revelation. The Promise: Never to speak ill or so poorly of my mother so that everything would turn out okay. The Relevation: All of my mean words of my mother were coming back to haunt me emotionally and in the end, really making her sick and me. Because I mean, she's really sick and we don't even know what it is. That worries me. And all of this is making her sick. And I'm making her sick. I'm wishing this on her indirectly and it has to stop because it's a circle and its coming back to hurt her and ultimately, me, the way it happened with my Dad. AND THEN THE DAY HAPPENED. AND IT WASN"T SO BAD. And I felt better.

Relieved that God had heard. Yes, HE who sits there whomever or whatever he is. Call him Allah, Budhha, the Extra Terrestials, Angels, this Spirit listens. He hears my pain and call. He has heard it before but me, ungrateful I forget to thank, to praise the Earth, the planet, my birthplace. Because he heard. He gave me peace that day. He heard my heart. I didn't want to lose my mom like this knowing that somehow he was giving me a chance. He was giving me the chance I wasn't given with Papi.


He heard. I heard. I heard that no more hurt. That the little resentment that I might have is not worth it, not to lose someone that is still a vital part of me and will hurt more when she's gone. No remorse will bring her back. I heard it.

Then, he heard the other prayer. There was more. There was another promise made on my part. One that acknowledges what utter irresponsibility I have shown time and time again. I can't speak of it. It is really quite embarassing. I can't even mention because it is quite shameful when my mother has trusted me so much. To think, that I literal could have ruined my mother's life ashames me and has really been a reason for me to always make excuses of my mother's behavior (or lack of motherly behavior). THEN, when another financial catastrophe was about to happen alongside the court date, I knew that no one other than my self was to blame for this. More karma, payback is miserable and revealing. Again, I prayed. I prayed for that day to change and I prayed for the opportunity by God to redeem myself and to allow me to do so discretely. I didn't deserve discretion however, I asked for it because knowing my disgusting ego, I would have found a way to "defend" my actions and not deserve any redemption at all. HE knew this. HE knew "let her just do right" and the rest will follow.

And again, my prayer was heard. Twice, one after the other. Somehow, I was able to get it together and on a deadline date. I really would like to even write further on that but am not ready yet. It will all come together under one bound cover. I hope. In the meantime, all I can say is how thankful I was. How thankful I am still.

How I look at my mother and think "forgive me, forgive me, forgive me."

I'm ready to start again. 2011. 

--Meow Meow

Morning Reflection. Make it Right.

I woke up in the fowlest of moods. Literally, had I been a day time vampire, I would have ravished the blood of thousands. However, I am just a meek human and therefore, I had to wind down my temper and control myself. I remember my brashness and stinging words on some of my past but recent rampades and made sure this morning's mom rant and rave did not offend.

It wasn't easy. It's scary how your children come out like you whether by osmosis, inheritance or force of nature. I get scared to see how much one of my children has that sad, depressive nature that I grew up with. The only difference is that I fought all along the way. I fought feeling that way, unsure of myself and unhappy about my surroundings and made the best of it, somehow. Whether my early school day writing, my imagination, my outdoor after school adventures, or my fascination with barbies helped me through it all. Now, I am praying and hoping that will help him. Whether his fancy is wrestling, or games or reading, ANYTHING that will help him take him away from the darkness. Because it doesn't matter if the day is sunny, the weather is gray, the darkness comes from within.

Like this morning, I didn't know why I wanted to hail a plate across the wall. I didn't know why I wanted to scream. I did know why I wanted to run but that would only serve to make matters worse. So, I stayed within my four walls. And here, he was feeling the same. Why?

Am I to blame because I show my true colors way too much to my kids. They know when I'm up. They know when I'm down. They know when my mood and my demeanor hang on the preface looking down.

And so the day started for my son and myself. The same. I sharply said without hesitation and without a tenderly bone in my bod. "Snap out of it. What happened yesterday is gone. It's spilt milk. Don't worry about it."

But, he was worried about it. He was crying about not passing a test and having had a terrible day. I said, "That's all? C'mon, it's over. Today is a new day and it's your chance to start over. Don't worry about it."

So, that sounds pretty decent but it wasn't. He needed more. He needed a hug, a comfort, a kind and tender motherly word but I couldn't do it. Not today. And Here I am thinking still about it. When I said I wouldn't be my mother, here I was wearing her shoes again.

I will make it right today. I will hug him and cuddle him when I get home. I will go out with him only today. Today, he will be my oldest and my first baby as he deserves to be.

And today, I will be the person I deserve to be. Happy. - MEOW MEOW

Mothers and Their Tongues

Or should I better say their lack of tact? I guess that's okay and almost apropo since the blog name is "or just say it" which my mother so often does and rarely thinking if she hurts my feelings. This is why just the thought of my mother visiting makes me wince. Yes, while others are so happy to have their mothers around, I'm so happy to have her not around. Don't get me wrong. I want her happy and healthy just not around me especially not around me to make me feel bad.

You see mommy dearest (not quite) is attached the most to me the youngest of 3 other half siblings. She is not attached to me because she loves me the most. She is not attached to me the most because she might think since I'm the youngest I might need help, quite the contrary. She thinks she's done a lot for me (discussion for another time). She is attached to me because out of the four, I am the only one who is fool enough to take her around to do her errands, cook for her, take her out, try to have a decent relationship and pretends to be a caring daughter. I try, I try but it is so hard. It is so hard when while you try, you get knocked down from everything about your personal being, life, job and choices is so often criticized. I never seem to do right by my mother's standards.

Of course, how can I? I was born the ugly duckling, first off. Yes, my mother was a beauty queen in her age. Her other children (my half siblings) also inherited these starlet traits. This, to my mother is the most highest of rankings. Secondly, most of my half siblings (whom are also significantly older and have times to establish themselves) are well off or have done well for themselves, obviously without my mom's help. Third off, the more estranged any of her children are to my mother, the more she pines for their attention and craves their love and thus, has forever stamped "UNCONDITIONAL APPROVAL" of. Me, on the other hand, I was born ugly.

Yes, I inherited the blotchy breakout skin, course curly mousy brown hair on my father's side, round face, small squinty eyes and a bulbous nose. I did not inherit my mother's side of the four generations of German fair skin ancestry nor the green or blue eyes. For years, as a young child, I would cry kneeling in front of my mother begging her to tell me the truth about my adoptive parents. I could not believe that I was born of this woman who had other goddess-like daughters whose shoes I would never fit. Good grades, smarts and a nice personality just never seemed to me to be quite enough.


And then, it became the always "I'm just not good enough for you." I really really and to this day, some 40 years after ward I feel the same. I'm that little girl with the blotchy breakout skin, course curly mousy brown hair, round face, squinty eyes and bulbous nose (and now very overweight) feeling very inadequate.

Which leads me to...since my mom came back for her yearly trip. She has long retired, moved back home but yearly wants to take a vacation WITH ME spending time sleeping, eating, and shopping at my house for not 2 weeks, one month but for at times, up to three months! This time, she dares to insinuate she is staying until New Years (that's almost four months)! This is going to be a long winter.So, obviously I avoid her as much as possible. It helps believe me so I can do the things that she needs me to do for her and so I don't become the bitch that I want to be at the drop of a word. Then, there's always the guilt that I feel when I come home and I go straight to me room and avoid talking to her and at times, go to sleep with just only saying "good night" to her for the whole day.


How horrible can that be? Last night was a prime example why I do that. I was holed up in my room and she obviously felt the need to be concerned that I was on the computer working at such a late hour. She came in and sat on my bed while I twiddled on my computer. She asked if I had an pictures for her to see of the kids because my other sibling had showed her so many of her family when my mother went over. Of course, I felt obliged to have to show her. Most of the pics I really liked, I didn't want to show her since they are mostly of my husband's family, the family that has loved and adopted me as one of their own for 16 years. The family that is there for me when I feel down or have no where to go. The family that shows my children love. Therefore, I showed some of the crappy pictures I had and occasionally some of my husband's family would show up and I could see my mother's look of discontent and biting her lip.

But, then there was the picture of me. I saw her when she saw one of my children and my self and she didn't say anything. BUT I SAW. I saw. That was enough. I knew I looked large in that picture and most unattractive. I knew she saw that. But, she made light conversation saying how wonderful my half sister looked now that she had lost so much weight, that it had taken years off her age. " Oh Lord, I know where this is heading.."

There came my mother's remark "ewwwwwwwww, who the heck is that?"
I was like "what do you mean?"
She replied "who is that woman? She is so ugly."
Silence. "That's me." Explanations followed - my hair was pulled back, my grey hair was showing, I had the big sunglasses on, the picture was too up close since I took if of my self and more.

Then, came the " Gaaawwwwwd, what can I do for you? How can you lose weight? How can I help you lose weight? All the health repercussions. Seriously, you have to eat less" and on and on and on. All I could do was sink further in my chair. It was too good to be true to be holed up in my only sanctuary of the house and she had to come in an invade it and bring down the walls of my personal and mental safety.

It was this easily done as the not buying the coconut custard pie in front of my mom. Which by the way, moments before...I was grabbing a bowl of cereal when she also noted that I was eating way too much cereal so late at night and I should skip those bowls of cereal. I needed to eat less. I needed not to eat. I needed to eat only cereal. I needed. I needed.

Where were you ever when I needed you woman? Where were you when I was teased in elementary school? Where were you when I pondered suicide so many times growing up? Where were you when I needed a loving mother and friend? You are certainly the one that never had a kind word, that didn't think twice to slap me, pull my hair, hit me with whatever came to your hand and control my every movement. And yet, you still insist to be near me to beat me down which ever way you want even more so with your looks and actions now.

I remembered Squirrel. I remembered the coconut custard pie. I screamed back " a truck runs over me tomorrow, I will seriously regret not eating this bowl of warm milk and froot loops." To which mommy dearest jabbered a whole row of retorts to which I didn't listen to as I went up to my whole. Which she later invaded. And the comment of my ugliness.

No wonder I woke up having had nightmares with her. And no lie, in the nightmare, I was so angry with her, I was choking her. Wow.

I think now, mothers and their tongues. I know where my venom comes from and its not pretty. I can do so much damage with the hissing of my tongue. I need to reflect on that. Slither back into some hole in the ground next time I intend such vile remarks upon my children and tear down those personal walls of safety and security and bring down their inner being. I hurt. I'm sorry kids. I know I have hurt you. I'm sorry.

Therefore, right now. Exhale. Wipe my eyes. Think. I'm better than this. I can do better. I'm not perfect. I am certainly not the best mother but I can do better.  - MEOW MEOW

Coconut Custard Pie, Not Custard...

Coconut Custard!!!!

 My goodness, if anything was ever an aphrodisiac, it should have been coconut custard pie! I mean, really! It's that good. I learned about coconut custard pie when my half sister from the Cats' Island (heh heh "meow meow's homeland)," came to live with us and her favorite treat was always coconut custard pie, Oh my gosh! It was a God send because I learned that I could eat a whole pie by my self. Of course I couldn't because I was 12 and there was my sister, my parents, and you had to share. But, man did I eat more than half of my share.


There started the love of coconut custard pie. Yeah, and the many trips to the store and my eating a whole pie all by myself. All by myself. That's it.

Mind you, I am now overweight. It's not because of that pie because we could lay blame on cheesecake, donuts, bread, and any other sweet pastry or any thing made of refined white flour that I like. You can also blame three kids later after 12 years, a sedentary job, pure laziness and an unused gym club membership (that's a top level gym club membership, also).

I think my mother is most reminded of my nice slim size 7/9 figure which is not exactly slim in societal norms but damn, I looked good. She no longer lives with me but she comes and visits. Every time she comes and visits I am scolded about what  I should or shouldn't eat. I shouldn't eat after 6p. I shouldn't buy sweets. I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't. After all, she's my mother even after 39 years and she is so worried about my weight.

She looks at me. Serious look of concern on her face. I think she is almost going to cry. I think she is going to say something serious but I know, I know. It's all about how I got this way and how sad it is for her. She tells this to me, my sister, my other sister, her best friend, anybody who will listen to her and beeeelieeeveee that her daughter was not this way. How could she be this way? Please believe her when she says Meow Meow used to be so skinny.

So, here comes Coconut Custard pie.

My mom is torturing me staying 3 months with me because she misses me. Do I miss her? That's for another topic but Yes, I will say it. And I will say what I mean!! (Note to free flow diary/future blog postings: The Visits).

We're at the local supermarket, buying extras for the house. Screeching halt -sign reads: "Oops, we've overbaked." Damn those bakers!!! Damn them to kingdom come! What's on the rack? Chocolate croissants. Nope. Tomato focaccia bread. Nope. Custard pie?? What? Noooooo. It's Coconut Custard Pie! Double Damn!

Do I pick it up? Thoughts race in my mind? Why the hell am I here with my mother? On this day? At this supermarket?

ANDDD ANNND it's two dollars off! It's 4.99, it's 2.50. That makes it even more important TO ME.

I can pick it up, take it in my card, hide it under my grocery bag and make my mother wait up front for me but nooo. She wouldn't do that. She's too nosy. She has to see what I'm paying. Ok, so I just it put in on the belt at the register. When she sees it. I'll say it's for the office.

Wrong. I'm the only one that works at my office. I'm a contractor and have my own office, and generally, there's no one there but my self. And of course in this instance, the coconut custard pie and me.

Sadness. I can't take the pressure. I can't take the pie. Just to see her look, one of concern, one of disgust, one of awe (for my outright lie) and one of disdain (for my gluttony). I reluctantly let go of the pie and don't take it with me.

Fast forward to today: Squirrel and I talk about my need for the frickin' coconut custard pie. Shitttt. I want that pie. I deserve that pie. I told Squirrel about my white pants (Another Future blog posting: White Pants Reggaeton). So, Squirrel says next time, your mother complains about your weight or what you are going to eat or if you want to eat that custard pie, you say...

" I can have that custard pie, dammit, mom! I deserve it. Suppose I don't get that custard pie? I get run over today by a car or a shopping cart? I will be mad as hell." That was good enough for me. You're right Squirrel!

But, then again. I might not be alive to be able to even complain about not having the pie. Knowing me, I sure as hell will come back and haunt my mom about my custard pie. "Giveee meeee myyyyy cuussstarrrrrrrd pieeeeeeee. Pieeeeeeeee-eehhhhhhhh!"  - MEOW MEOW