A Typical Mourning
The children get up around 5:45 to 6:00 am. Yes, that is extremely early. I am a heroin addict so I really enjoy sleep. Now, I really enjoy coffee. The three kids like to watch television before they go to "school". I had made a promise to myself that I was going to be a responsible mother and fight obesity by not letting my kids sit in front of mind sucking programing. Ha! That still makes me laugh. with one child, there was a certain amount of novelty and ability to cope with things. With two children, we could spilt our attention. Now, we went from man to man to zone defense. If it was not for "Dora the Explorer" I would not be able to get ready for work in the morning. Really, I have tried it. Between them jumping off the furniture and hitting each other with toys, I can barely get my bra on with out breaking up an argument.
I never thought I would be in this position in my life. The first five years of my life were just focused on staying off drugs. I was in treatment for six month, four years in a shared transitional house, and six months getting acclimated to living with a partner. Having the children makes my life so complicated in many ways. First, I am forced to give a fuck. I have to care- about people, about the environment, about what people think of me. Most of all I have to give a fuck about what these little people think of me because I love them and I do not want to ruin their lives.
Secondly, I have to work. The children require things such as a place to live that is somewhat stable. I lived in a room with no bathroom for four years and was fine. I do not require many things. I love my children but quite honestly they are in daycare and school because I do NOT have the patience to stay with them every day. Sometimes they talk to me as if I was crazy. the whole street mentality kicks in "who do they think they are?- ah! They are five!. I am more than willing to work and have the care givers care for them. It makes my time with them more special. I get torn. I cry at my desk. I am being realistic.
Finally, I am in a mourning period. Soon, the house will be done with little people. They are still small but getting bigger all the time. I can have no more children which may be a good thing as I will be close to sixty when my youngest finishes school. All of these things are luxury problems. I get to be their mother. I walked my daughter to school today. For the first time, she wanted me to try it will her. her little legs carried her. I held her cold hand. the wind whipped around us as if we were alone. I was her mother and she loves me. All of our petty arguments over her sparkly shoes where behind us. I did not get clean because of these kids. However, they force me into reality every day. Life is in smiles and not in the syringe. Simple.
I never thought I would be in this position in my life. The first five years of my life were just focused on staying off drugs. I was in treatment for six month, four years in a shared transitional house, and six months getting acclimated to living with a partner. Having the children makes my life so complicated in many ways. First, I am forced to give a fuck. I have to care- about people, about the environment, about what people think of me. Most of all I have to give a fuck about what these little people think of me because I love them and I do not want to ruin their lives.
Secondly, I have to work. The children require things such as a place to live that is somewhat stable. I lived in a room with no bathroom for four years and was fine. I do not require many things. I love my children but quite honestly they are in daycare and school because I do NOT have the patience to stay with them every day. Sometimes they talk to me as if I was crazy. the whole street mentality kicks in "who do they think they are?- ah! They are five!. I am more than willing to work and have the care givers care for them. It makes my time with them more special. I get torn. I cry at my desk. I am being realistic.
Finally, I am in a mourning period. Soon, the house will be done with little people. They are still small but getting bigger all the time. I can have no more children which may be a good thing as I will be close to sixty when my youngest finishes school. All of these things are luxury problems. I get to be their mother. I walked my daughter to school today. For the first time, she wanted me to try it will her. her little legs carried her. I held her cold hand. the wind whipped around us as if we were alone. I was her mother and she loves me. All of our petty arguments over her sparkly shoes where behind us. I did not get clean because of these kids. However, they force me into reality every day. Life is in smiles and not in the syringe. Simple.
Beautiful, Tracey. They do give us a REASON, don't they
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