Confessions of a working (outside of the home) mom.

First of all, let me say this, I get that being a mom is a job all by itself.  I have been doing it since my kids were born (obviously) and working on and off in between.  I have run my own design business in the last few years, but that was part-time at best since the economy tanked.  I have said many times that being a stay-at-home mom is a tough job that you don't get paid money for.  You definitely get payoffs, but they are not monetary.

I have gone back to full-time, outside of the home work as a police officer.  I am still responsible for my other job as well.  I am enjoying the police work tremendously.  It is satisfying and it also rewards me with a paycheck every two weeks.  I have received two so far!  Here's the thing though.  My other job has been suffering in the transition.  I have come to the realization that I am not able to do everything like I used to.  Here is a list of the areas I am deficient in at the moment...(consider this my counseling statement to myself)...

1.  My house is no longer clean.  There is dog hair and dust everywhere.  Plus?  My kids' bathroom smells like a urinal...GROSS!

2.  I no longer cook meals every night.  Kurt has definitely been picking up the slack here, but there have been many nights when I have opted to pick up KFC or Mickey D's rather than cook.

3.  I have not been on top of my kids about their homework.

4.  I go to bed nearly two hours before my kids on most nights.  I have been getting up at either 4 or 5 a.m. and by 7:30, I am toast.  I just can't keep my eyes open.  I'm in bed by 7:30 and lights out by 8:00.  Pathetic, I know.

5.  My kids have to get themselves up and ready for school in the mornings with NO ONE HOME!  I no longer cook them a hot breakfast each morning.  My poor, neglected children now eat a bowl of cereal instead of eggs.  Then they get themselves dressed, walk the dog and lock the house as they leave.

6.  I have not been taking my son to the batting cages every day.  Again, with the work schedule and the busy zone I work in, I am exhausted at the end of the day.  Jack's hitting has suffered because of this.
**Side note, I did take him this past week (I've been working on this post for 2 weeks...do you see a pattern of behavior here??) and today at his game, he hit a home run with 2 RBI's!  See?  He really needs to hit those cages so he can do well!

7.  I haven't been working out.  Or even watching what I eat.  Some days, I don't even get to eat because I am so busy, but then I make up for it when I get home...ugh!  I keep intending to start over tomorrow.  I'm definitely starting over tomorrow!

8.  I have a very short fuse these days.  In other words, I am frequently a bitch to all of the male species living in my house.  Sorry Guys!  Mommy is trying to adjust!

There you have it.  I am a slacker in the mommy department.  I am trying to improve.  One thing is certain though, I do love getting that pay check every two weeks and also, I love my job and the people I work with.  It's all exhausting, but it is still good.  I will get better at doing all of this, I promise.

Overcoming

Today I had to take a psychological test in order to get hired for the police position I want.  I have taken several versions of this test over the years.  It is very long and grueling...about 4 straight hours of answering the same 200 or so questions worded 5 or 6 different ways for a total of about 1000 questions.

The test is designed to weed out those who won't fit into a law enforcement career.  It picks up whether you are lying, defensive, compulsive, obsessive, criminal, violent or a combination of all of the above.  The only way to take the test is to decide beforehand to answer every single question honestly.  Even the ones that ask whether you like poetry or Alice in Wonderland. 

I have always wondered what it might mean to the psychologist reviewing my answers that I do like poetry (especially if someone is writing it to me) or that I don't really care for Alice in Wonderland?  Does it mean I am too introspective or soft to be a cop?  Does not liking poetry fit the position better?  What about the fact that I sometimes prefer spending time by myself?  Does it mean I'm anti-social?  After all the tests I have taken, I still don't know the right answer, so I just answer truthfully...I AM afraid of spiders, but not snakes.  I DON"T enjoy gambling, but have done dangerous things just for the thrill of it from time to time.  I DID NOT have a good relationship with my mom, I DON"T think my father was the ideal man (because I never knew him.)

After the written portion of the test, there is an interview with the psychologist.  Today, he managed to gather all sorts of interesting tidbits about my childhood, my mother, my lack of a father, the fact that I have 3 other siblings I don't know and that I have been a witness to domestic violence in my home growing up.  He asked whether I thought I was really fit for the job.  I told him that my past experiences had made me more sensitive to the fact that people have problems and that the answers or solutions to them are not always black and white.  I told him that my past had allowed my creative problem-solving side to blossom and my empathy for the plight of those less fortunate to root deep within me.  I care about what happens to people (most of them anyway) and I do want to help them.  I just can't help being that way.  It's who I am.  His remark to me?  "So you were able to overcome your past and become better for it."  Well, yes.  I guess it's true.

An old photo of me as a School Police Officer

I'll find out in a few days whether or not I am of sound enough mind to do the job I have done for so many years...taking care of the public in the best way I know how...by keeping their kids safe in school.

On the road again...part 2...Bunnie dumps Clyde and meets Dudley DoRight...

Okay, where did I leave off?  Oh yes, conjugal visit?  Clyde as my father?  Hmmm, what's next?  So that was 1963.  I was conceived in May of that year.  Bunnie was a sporadically employed bartender with questionable abilities when it came to picking the right men.  Did I mention all of this took place in Jacksonville, Florida?  No?  Well, it did.  Did you know that's a military town?  Well it is.  There is a Navy base there.  That becomes important later in the story.

Okay, so blah blah blah...oh yeah.  So, my mom gets preggers while Clyde is in jail waiting for his trial and then divorces Clyde while he is in jail waiting for his trial.  Newly single after divorce number four, Bunnie is out doing her thing...again.  Well, it turns out, she liked to get her drink on and, like I said, she was a looker.  I guess she didn't have a car back then (maybe it was confiscated by the F.B.I.?  Not sure about that, but that's kind of a fun thought, so let's go with that.) so she was taking a taxi to and from work at the bar.   Well, it turns out that ONE of those taxi drivers took a shine to Bunnie and felt bad for her with all of her troubles.  She started to confide in him and at some point, oh, about October, she told him that she was with child (ME!) and didn't know what to do.  Well, wouldn't you know that this young man was so infatuated with Bunnie that he decided he didn't care that she might be carrying the child of a Brinks car robber and he asked her to marry him!!  (Can you even believe that?  I KNOW!  Who does that?  Well, guess what else?  He was a really decent, nice, Christian man who wrote poetry to her and loved his mom, so of course, my mom DETESTED him!  But she married him anyway...no sense letting personal feelings get in the way of a way out of a mess!  Oh, and one more thing, I still have contact with this man, but that is another story I'll tell you later.)

So the taxi driver, let's call him Dudley (you know, DoRight?) marries my mom and hopes to live happily ever after!  Uhmmm, guess he didn't get the memo, but that's not the way Bunnie rolls.  So anyway, they get married, but right before I am ready to make my grand entrance into the world, Clyde escapes from jail...AGAIN!  Now, I have a theory here too (yes, I have a bunch!)  I am thinking that Clyde heard that his ex-old lady was about to have a little baby Bunnie and he suspected that little bundle of joy was his so he escaped to come sweep Bunnie off her feet and ride off into the sunset so they could all be one happy family.  Well, he got caught a couple days later and that's that as far as he was concerned.  He spent another 20 years in prison and then lived with his mom after he got out of jail.  I wish I could tell you whether or not he is actually my father but I really don't know.  I can't seem to track him down, although I came close one time about 10 years ago.  To me, it kind of makes sense, but then again, so does the random guy in the bar theory, so who knows?

But, prior to any knowledge about Clyde (on my part) there was Dudley.  I was born with Dudley's last name because he and my mother were married at the time.  It lasted exactly until I was one year old, but they were separated before that because my mom kicked him out of the house and started her bar hopping, er, tending again.  So, about when I was 9 or 10 months old, she meets a handsome sailor...I'll bet you can imagine what happens next...and my little sister Anna was born when I was a year and a half old.  Bunnie had been divorced from Dudley for about 7 or 8 months prior and then married Popeye (we'll just call him that so we can keep it all straight, okay?)

So what are we up to now?  I think we are at marriage number 6.  You know what they say, 6th time the charm...but not so much here.  I have to say though, this one lasted longer than any of the others.  Not too long after Anna was born, Popeye got shipped out during the Vietnam war so he didn't actually have to live with Bunnie.  Turns out, this was the ideal arrangement and they actually made it for a couple of years before they divorced.

Those years, post Popeye, are when I start to be able to remember events happening.  I remember living in Miami (we left Jacksonville after the divorce from Popeye) in "The Bug House" so named because there was a bug in the closet when we were moving in.  That's one of my early memories of the places we lived.  In that place, I remember seeing the movie "Cinderella" (the one with Leslie Ann Warren) and playing records on my record player.  I remember finding my mother's tampax tampons and taking them apart to use the little white tubes as curlers in my hair.  I remember the dog we had had puppies and I sat in a box with the puppies.

Then I remember living with this really nice old woman who used to take care of my sister and I all week while my mom was working.  Her name was Mama Hickey (her real name to us) and Anna and I adored her.  She lived in Opa Locka (a subdivision in Miami known for racial problems back then) in a big old house with neat things like old refrigerators in her back yard (great for playing hide-and-seek with!) and a million other kids she used to take care of running around.  We used to sleep on the living room floor right under this huge picture window (and one night, someone threw a rock through that window, but that's another story.)  I remember my mom would stop by occasionally during the week to see us and I remember being desperate to go home with her when she would leave.

I remember sleeping one night in one of the bedrooms in Mama Hickey's house in a bed near a wall and a huge palmetto bug managed to crawl into the sleeve of my pajamas (you know, the little flannel nightgowns you used to wear that had the elastic band at the wrist??) and I couldn't get it out (thus, my irrational FEAR of palmetto bugs...I can't even step on one if I see it, I just have to leave the area or shoot it with my gun.)  I was four years old in this big old house and my sister was two.  Mama Hickey was very busy with all those children running around, so I was in charge of taking care of Anna.  I would feed her and change her (CLOTH!) diapers.  I have crystal clear memories of swishing those diapers in the toilet when she pooped in one and (this is gross!) one time, the water got turned off and I had just changed a diaper and was thus unable to wash the smell of poop off my hands...maybe that's why I am compulsive about washing my hands now?

So what was my mother doing to make a living at the time?  I am glad you asked!  At that time, Bunnie was an entertainer.  Being a crack shot with a pistol (oh yes she was!) she got together with some other folks (whom I don't remember) and decided to go to steak houses and bars and put on a show of cowboys and Indians.  My mom had two roles.  She would dress up as Calamity Jane and shoot objects off of her partner's head and sometimes, she was the Indian.  I don't remember what she did as the Indian, but she was probably shooting her gun at one of the cowboys.  She would compete in "quick draw" competitions (meaning she could pull her gun out of the holster really fast) and shoot at targets on a wall.  (And yes, back then she was shooting real bullets at her partners in the parking lot behind the steak houses and bars...how scary is that??) She could compete very well with the men.  She has a penchant to dress like a man, smoke like a man, shoot like a man and curse like the devil.  My mom always had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth (picture it...cowboy boots, dungarees (those are jeans) a snap-button western shirt, a carved leather belt with a giant silver belt buckle, long black wavy hair and a cigarette hanging out the corner of her mouth, her head tilted to one side to let the smoke rise and allow her to see out of the one eye that wasn't squinted closed because of the smoke, and a cowboy hat to top it all off) and she would light her next cigarette from her last.

Bunnie prided herself on being a "bad ass bitch" and would often refer to herself as such.  She had a short temper.  She constantly reminded Anna and I that we were "shit on a rock and hatched by the sun" and she should have had an abortion.  She liked to say that she "hated kids" and didn't want us acting like "wild banshees."  She did not believe in sparing the rod and applied the golden rule to our little asses as often as necessary to make sure we were well-behaved.  Since she frequently got herself mixed up in botched "business deals" (more on that later) and couldn't keep a job for long (no one could put up with her for more than a couple of months) we moved around a lot...mostly in the middle of the night.  Anna and I got very good at throwing all our possessions into a bag and jumping in the car at 3 am to go "on an adventure."

Which leads up to the first road trip I can remember.  One of many we would take over the years and one I will start telling you about...tomorrow.  Remember, don't tell her I told you...it'll be our secret ;)

On the road again...Part 1...Bunnie and Clyde

(A little side note:  you guys are probably going to think I am making this stuff up because it is absolutely crazy and "there is no way you (meaning me) had that life and are who you are now...you're a cop for Christ sake!"  Seriously, I'm serious, I am not making this up.)

By the time I came along into my mother's life, she had been married 4 times (and later another four times making that a grand total of 8 times!) and had given birth to three other children.

I don't really know all of the details about who and where all of those other half-siblings of mine went, but the stories I heard along the way were something about my mom being a "little wild" and getting herself in some legal trouble and losing custody of her kids (two girls and a boy.)  No one could or would ever go into any more of an explanation than that and my mother refused to talk about it.  All three of those kids had different dads too.  Apparently, the kids were taken away from mom and were adopted into other families.  Since that was so long ago (late 50's) there are no records that I know of and I wouldn't know where to start looking.  I've kind of given up on that issue.

So now, mom is single (again) and has no children living with her.  Her profession at the time was bartending.   My mom was a real looker back in the day and had no trouble finding ways to keep herself occupied...only problem is, she was a bit of a rebel and didn't care much for silly rules and laws.  Her boyfriend at the time was a really bad guy.  He had already spent time in jail for various things like stealing cars and robbing stores.  Once, he even escaped from jail (I swear I am not making this stuff up!)  So he (let's call him Clyde) and my mom (we'll just call her Bunnie...get it?) are hanging out one night with some friends and Clyde thinks it will be a great idea to rob a Brinks truck.  Are you listening??  He said he thought it would be a great idea to rob a Brinks truck (yes, those Brinks trucks!)  So they make a plan and Bunnie is elected to be the driver (probably because she was a great driver since her dad taught her how to drive his farm truck when she was three, but I digress...)  So they did it.  They ROBBED A BRINKS TRUCK OF $80,000 DOLLARS!!  WITH GUNS!!  Way back then (1963) that was a really lot of money and (at the time) was the largest armored car heist ever.  (Again, not making this up, I have a copy of the newspaper article!)

Okay, so after that, they split the money 5 ways (there were three other guys involved) and then proceeded to foolishly spend the money thereby making themselves "persons of interest" in the case and eventually getting themselves caught by the F.B.I.  (Still not making this up.)  My mom ended up spending some time in jail and then, in order to avoid testifying against Clyde, she married him...ugh, yeah, I said she married him.  While he was in jail.  Waiting for his trial.  For robbing the Brinks truck.

Now, here's a tricky little side note...some of you know that I don't actually know who my biological father is.  My mom (Bunnie) has told me SEVERAL different stories about who he might be.  Two of my own personal theories are that he is either some random guy from a random bar (it was the sixties, remember?) or he could be Clyde.  I know, I know...he was in jail you say.  Well, I have a theory about that.  Remember how I told you that my mom married him while they were waiting for their trial?  Well, this whole hot mess (robbery, getting caught, spending time in jail) all happened during the time frame leading up to and including when I would have been conceived, sooooo, I'm just sayin' it's a possibility.  What I have never been able to find out is whether they allowed Bunnie and Clyde a conjugal visit to consummate the joyous occasion of their wedding vows.

So I am going to end part 1 here.  Tomorrow, I'll continue with the story and, until then, say a prayer that no one tells my mom that I am "telling" on her.  In our house, we were supposed to be good at keeping secrets.