Wild Child

I asked my son tonight if he was ready, ready to be a senior, to start his life and so on. He said he was. For 16.5 years I have protected, nurtured, cleaned, fed, played with, fought with this now, young man. I was 20/21 when I got pregnant and had him. I will be the youngest parent at graduation a year and two months from now. I get carded, I lack wrinkles. I have been encaged in this domestic life. My foot stapled to the floor while I raised my kids in this ideal neighborhood. So expensive to live in, the houses ranch, nothing fancy here.

So that job is coming to an end. I know that I will lose it a bit so I am ready for a new life. A move to California, a switch in professions. My daughter needs to be more like me insofar as I am ready to go at anytime. The things that truly matter I carry in my head and heart.

I spent my 20's being a Mom, 30's too. Wonder what my 40's will hold? I need to go fast, thats a basic need right now, I need to do more to make the world better for my kids and everyone elses kids.

Love will find me, but in all this, I truly know I have done the best I can with my son, Miles. My work is not really over. We parent our kids all of our lives, just in different zones.

College is up next. College night is next week. I find this so amusing as I am just about ready for another degree. My son and I got braces at the same time, how about we go to the same college? Hahaha. See, you never stop torturing your kids, in a good way. Keeps them on their toes.

For all these years their Father has paid me for my work as a Mother. It is a pretty sweet deal but I have always been more then a Mother. I have an insatiable curiosity and passion. I always want more and now and right now and god damn it lets go!

I seek a partner who will travel with me. A person to travel with who is not uptight and can bend and not break in most situations. Someone who has my back and vice versa. Someone who laughs as much as I do at the absurdities. I don't mind physical labor, its just that I am a better planner.

This week my first employer passed on. I picked green beans, strawberries for him when I was 12 on up. He was an alcoholic and needed a shower. Farmer Ed, RIP.

On top of those duties were barn duties and childcare. I know work.

I heal and its been almost a week since my last hospital stay.

Thank you Jesus that I am not allergic to morphine.

I have been listening to a local boy, Iggy Pop aka Jim Osterberg lately.

My Mom told me today that I looked like I was melting. I feel like I am dropping all excess, spreading my wings and so on.

This post is without wit, I think my wit organ is clogged at the moment. Instead, some prose.

I throw up and keep driving.
The rain smacks heavily onto the windshield.
One wiper smacks, out of whack, the other glides.
The sky is oppressive. Humidity high, curls abound.
Two dogs, one small girl and me, on the way to my Moms.
Great words come and go and I couldn't pull over if I wanted to.
No sleep and little food keep me focused forward.
I live like I am living in California. I am drawing my tribe. I have
said goodbyes. The great lakes are my lakes, so cold and full of stories.
All water is my friend. Respect is given. I keep driving.
Good songs come on the radio and I sing along.
I love to sing but few people know it. There is honesty
in the voice that I cannot release in words right now.
Music so much of my life. Many soundtracks 1 life.

This Summer, I will take my son and his longtime best friend to Lollapalooza.
I was pregnant with him, in 1993, when we went. Now its in Chicago and its
hot and miserable. I hang out in the kids area, where the trees are, while he
gets wild in the pit. We all watched the Raconteurs last time out. My favorite
part was the end of the hot hot day, when we watched The Violent Femmes. My
first alternative band, the first inkling that I was immensely different then my
small town school. My kid shook his head to the beat and my tiny girl child and I
danced and danced.