Fifty-Cent Mom

I try to keep this blog light, but I haven't been feeling too light lately. Imagine being a hamster and someone rattling the cage with a metal stick. Just when you've calmed down, the rattling begins all over again. Stress, change, and troubles. The memes on Facebook discuss life's travails all the time. Struggle is inevitable; it's how you deal with it that makes all the difference. Most of us want a smooth road to walk upon life's journey. I'd be lying if I told you otherwise. People need to agree with me all the time, starting with my husband and children; my body must cooperate and never get sick; and the world should drink Coke and live in perfect harmony...(Thank you  William Backer , may you rest in peace). I'd like to buy the world a home And furnish it with love Grow apple trees and honey bees And snow white turtle doves I'd like to teach the world to sing (Sing with me) In perfect harmony (Perfect harmony) I'd like to buy the worl

I t started over a week ago. We were driving from the restaurant and Elizabeth innocently asked what I wanted for Mother's Day. My answer wasn't pleasant nor complementary. The answer hinged on memories of past Mother's Days that were often thrown together affairs by the 50-cent husband with four daughters. "You're not my mother," he once joked. He paid for that joke for a long time. One Mother's Day I asked for white fencing around our ugly metal fence to hide the backyard. He got it, but sulked the entire weekend. It's not a pleasant day for me to me honest, until I get to visit my mother. Usually some of my sisters, their families, and my family have brunch or dinner with Mom. The younger cousins run around playing, and the older ones hang around the dining room table chatting with the adults. It's really very pleasant. But mornings on Mother's Day are typically ugly. Les throws together his version of Eggs Benedict, bacon wit