Today's award winning Harleyism

"Tap your willie and hug the wall!"

(Where does he get this stuff??)

My impish little friend

How does a baby get into the mommy's belly?

Why can't I pee in the bushes?  (At an FSU track meet)

Why can't I have candy at bedtime?

How big is outer space?

Is it tomorrow yet?

When will it be tomorrow?

When will it be my birthday again?

Too much to say. stop. Brain melted. stop.

This just in.  It appears that PF has so much to say, her brain melted!  

I've wanted to post a million different times about different things, and did not have the energy because Harley's been really sick.  He's better now, and I do have the energy, but like the caption says, my brain has melted.  

I apologize to my lovely friends who grace me with their presence here at PF's world.  I will be back as soon as my brain finishes congealing.  I just put it in the icebox just moments ago, so it should be globbing up here real soon... if not, I may need professional assistance.

Thanks for stopping.

Peace,

pf

Forget Mr. Toad, just have a son!

My son, Harley is apparently going through something.  Something in which he finds it necessary, or is compelled by a force outside of his own reckoning to hurl himself into my or my husband's body going full speed, head butt us, poke us, hit, scratch, kick, squeeze, pinch or grab us... depending upon what demon is possessing him at the moment.  We have been working with this for a few weeks, delivering various consequeses, time outs, mirroring, diet, and etc... which all seem to have a temporary effect, but as yet, have not fully deterred this behavior.

Yesterday we were having quite a day, Harley and I.  He was in rare "aggressive" form, so I took him to the park to "let his jets run"  (That's what our favorite teacher, Ms. Carmie calls it).  He is still sort of acting a bit nuts, but ok, we're at the park and we are the only ones at the park at that, so scream and go nuts~!  Everything was going fine until either his blood sugar dropped or he got too excited or something... I'm still not sure what possessed him this time.  Anyway, he comes back from what ever he was doing to the platform which is the highest platform on this equipment.  It's at the top of the big slide.  Anyway, he comes up like he's going to hug me, and he does, and then he pinches my boob, (in a very very tender area), REALLY hard~!  This is as aggrevating and frustrating as it is painful.  Ok, so I yell, naturally.  First because I'm in pain, and next AT him! (Oh yea, and by now, there are other people at the park... lovely.)

 "Why did you pinch me?  You can't do that to people, it hurts!!  Are you CRAZY?" (or something to that effect)

"I didn't pinch you!  I didn't pinch you~"

By this time, I really am ready to strangle this child....

"Do NOT lie to me"  I say, turning his face so he is looking at me when I say this."DO NOT LIE!"

"I grabbed you, I didn't pinch"

Oh, MY GOD!!

So, now everyone in the park is likely thinking I'm abusing my kid....my first instinct is to leave, right then.  And I should have, but we had a talk and he promised not to do it again.  (Am I creating a wife beater here??  Jesus!) So, we stay.

Not more than 5 minutes later, (I'm still on the same platform ruminating about the fact that I bounce between snapping and feeling guilty to being a wussy disciplinarian altogether...and the effects that may have on Harley's future and his mental health....and his wife, and and and...thinking maybe I should resort to the old fashioned "Give him a dose of his own medicine" and end this bullshit once and for all!)  So, as I'm sitting there, lost in my own fog, suddenly his face appears around the corner... He is on the tall pole with the swirling banister type slidey thingie.  This particular thingt has always seemed MUCH higher than it should be to me.  Anyway, he normally never goes down it unless I'm right under it or spotting him... Today? He decides to climb UP it on his own, while I was zoned out, thinking my lameness as a disciplinarian.

"Ah, mom, can you help me step on the platform?"

"Oh yea, hang on a sec"  (It takes me at least that long to get up)

As I am getting up, I hear a THUMP!

Oh holy mother of Christ!  He's fallen the entire 10 feet!  He's dead or badly hurt, I know this.  I am staring at his motionless body lying face down on the woodchip covered ground where he's fallen and I freeze. except to hollar his name.

"Harley!! HARRRRLEEEEEEEEY!!!!!!!!!"

I don't remember how I got down to where he was because I've blacked it out. But I did get down there somehow, and he's already sprung up!  Thank the Great Spirit and everything sacred!  So, of course he's crying pretty good for a few minutes and babbling incoherently.  All the while, I'm holding him and checking for broken bones and internal injuries.  Intermittently asking questions:  "What happened?  What hurts?  Did you hit your head?"  etc..  Remember, I was getting up so I did not actually witness HOW he fell or the fall itself, even though I was only about a foot or two away. (Life is cruel and insanely ironic in this way)

So, after a while, I"m pretty sure nothing is seriously wrong, at least not visibly... but I won't sleep until we've been to see the doc and check it out the innerds.  (There could be internal bleeding right?  A cracked rib?  Punctured lung?)  So, we are told by the doc to go to Urgent Care because it is now close to 5, and they're packing to go home... Ok, so we are at the Urgent Care and once again, we get the BEST, funniest, most patient, understanding, mild mannered and did I mention BEAUTIFUL  doctor... and he's older than Doogie Howser, which is a real plus in my book.  He is Dr. Eastman and he understands that I feel guilty as hell, and it's ok.  He says, " It always happens to the  vigilent ones.... Usually it's the grandparents!"  "He's a boy", he says, "its what we do!"  (Did I mention he has kids of his own?) Ok, starting to feel a triffle less guilty and a just plain grateful.  He examines Harley and announces with a slow steady tone and blue eyes filled with compassion, and just a glint of whimsy, "He is one lucky boy"!  I know this is true, he has many divine allies. Dr. E continues... "Keep an eye on him just to be safe.  Check his pee for blood clots, watch to see if he winces when he caughs or complains of any pain or dizziness, just to be safe".  But he is confident that Harley is just fine.

So, away we go feeling luckier than people have any right to.  I slept with him lastnight, just because.

Then today at school,  I stayed for Good Morning Time (At his school, the whole school gets together every morning to sing songs together before they start their day... I LOVE that) When a parent stays, many times they will allow a student to come to the front of the room and lead in a song, and everyone sings along.  Today Harley got to do that...Only instead of singing a normal Good Morning Time song, he just launched into the Diego theme song.  (It's pretty long!)  None of the other kids nor the pianist knew the song, so he was doing it solo and Alco Pella...  (There was one teacher, Ms Melissa, who knew some of it.  She helped out a little, which was very cute and sweet!)  Mostly, we were all sort of stunned!

I'm not sure why I added that part at the end... but I guess it's because kids can make you feel such a myriad of emotions in such a short time, it really is as though you've turned into a pinball, and the bumpers are your emotions, which you keep bouncing around on.  Boing! Boing! Boing!  In a matter of 24 hours I felt all of these feelings so intensely I was literally engulfed by them: Anger, love, visceral pain, emotional pain, fear, shock, gratitude, frustration, pride, exhaustion, awe, exasperation and releif... just to name a few.   
Even Mr. Toad would not be expecting this kind of ride.  That's probably the only thing I'm sure of.

The Power of a hug

 December 8th, 2009

Good day to all.  I want to share a little something with you.   This year is coming to an end, and after all, I would have to say that this year has been a hard one.   Isolation can effect us in so many ways, and on so many levels, and sometimes we don't even realize how much until something happens that reminds us of who we are.

When I was out there in the free world, I thought I had a pretty good life.  I had pretty good friends, a good job, and like most of us, I took a lot of it for granted.  Especially the closeness of someone I really cared about, and how we hugged each other whenever wee would meet up.  How we expressed how much we cared.  That part of my life is almost non-existent now, (or it feels that way in isolation).  So I rarely ever get to hug or touch another human being anymore, unless someone comes to visit me.  In here you just don't do that.  The more emotion you display, the weaker you are portrayed  as a man.  As silly as that sounds, it is the reality we live in here.

I had a lovely visit a couple of days ago from a really good friend and her 4 year old son.  I was feeling really bad, and quite alone before their visit.  It's difficult to put into words my state of mind at the time, but two people I had known for many years passed away from cancer (a week prior to this visit).  That they both died of cancer is disturbing enough, (Cancer is the #1 cause of death on the row), but it was more they way everyone seemed to just take it all in stride, like, "Oh well", that really got my attention.  There was no moment of silence, no wake, no memorial service, no gathering of friends and family to send them off in some kind of dignified manner.  One day they were here, occupying a cell, and the next they were just gone.  And the runners (The clean up crew) were in there cells picking through their personal belongings... taking what they wanted of value, and tossing the rest into garbage bags.  No emotions.  No respect for whose property it was.  It was just garbage to them.  Then they prepare the cell for the next occupant.

These men who lived and died in these cells, I don't know how they ended up here.  I only know that they were human beings with families, wives, children, brothers, sisters, and they died... alone, without so much as a hug or a goodbye.  To most people in here it was so routine,  It made me realize that we're all just waiting for the same fate.  How many of us sit here 10, 20, 30 years and never get a visit from anyone?  No human contact at all. 

No hugs

No holding someones hand

No meaningful conversations

No sitting together and eating junk food with someone

No laughing

The simple human gestures most of us take for granted everyday, just do not happen here.  It didn't really dawn on me until I was sitting there next to my friend, watching her incredibly happy son playing games, just how lucky I am to have someone in my life, who cares that much about me... That would go to such lengths to visit me and hug me and let me know I am loved.

I really needed that reminder that week.  I needed that human contact.  I was feeling really bad about the pressure of this environment and how vulnerable we really are in here.  I know in my heart that if something happened to me in here, that I would be missed a great deal.  But, sometimes I think about some of the men around me, who get no visits (and some, no mail either), or any human contact at all, and I wonder, "who if anyone will miss them"?  The truth is that people who used to care about them, love them, miss them, forgot about them long ago.   Most of the time, when someone back here passes away, I'm as much a part of the "it's routine" mentality as the next guy...  on the outside anyway.

I guess that most men back here would confess that it's much easier not to allow yourself to feel anything for anyone.  But we're not really built like that are we?  Because no matter how much we try to man up and hide our feelings from one another, when someone around us dies, all alone like that, it does effect us.  It effects each and every one of us, because we all know that next time, it could easily be any one of us... and that we are not as invincible as we act on the outside.  Even those of us who are really good at acting the part.  Normally, I'm as good as the next guy, but this past weekend, when I was playing word games and hide and seek and looking out the window with my friend and her son, I was reminded of just how much of a human being still exists inside me.  And how much I need and crave that human contact.  All it took was a simple hug from a child to remind me that I haven't lost sight of myself like so many men around me have.  

Most people in society would look at us and see cold uncaring remorseless individuals, but what they don't see, is that under the surface of each one, is a scared and helpless person who doesn't know any other way to be in this environment except to shut everyone and everything down inside and just survive.  I know how easy it is to go to that place.... but for the wonderful friends I have in my life who never allow me to forget how much I'm loved, that I matter, I could easily see myself there... walking around like a zombie.  I have been there.

I'm reminded with each letter and each visit how fortunate I am to get a hug or just hold someone's hand and hear those words, "I love you".  These simple gestures are what make us all human, in here and out there.  Like water, we also need physical contact, even if it's just a hug to remind us that we matter.  I'm so very grateful that I haven't lost sight of that part of me... and I haven't become the monster the system has portrayed me to be.

Much peace and love, and a happy holiday wish.

BDW

We are such weenies... really we are.

I love looking at this view of the earth...  Kind of puts me right in my place.   I need that every so often as I tend to get really caught up in my own story and my own woes.  There are much bigger things brewing in the Universe than what we could even imagine in our underdeveloped beaners.  And thank heaven for that! (hee hee, I made a funny!)

This is a mandering post.  I just feel the need to communicate, but am not ready yet to sit down and tell the story of our latest adventure here at Chez Levi.  So, I'm just going to spew nuggets at ya'll and hope that it satisfies me need to report. 

I figured out a name for my coaching business, which is a huge relief!  Now I can begin the paperwork to get my business license and start making some damn money!  That's what I'm talkin about!  I wish I could tell you all what it is... not because it's so great or anything, but because I think it's rude to mention something like that, and then "leave a bitch hangin" as my dear pal SB would say.  The reason I can't is because it isn't mine yet, and since most of the names I wanted were already taken, I think it's best to leave this one under my hat till it's official.    So, this is exciting stuff for me.  In addition to embarking on a new and creative and hopefully prosperous endeavor, I am learning a lot about how I sabotage myself mentally and emotionally whenever I get close to realizing something I want.  I always suspected I did this, but now it's undeniable.  This is good because at least I know what I am dealing with, no?  It's just fascinating to stay present during my process.  It's quite a new experience for me, and I like it.  I usually barrel through life like a bull in a china shop!  Seriously.

Harley is good.  He is having doughnuts with Dad's today at his school.  Very exciting stuff!  I'm sort of proud of the fact that he doesn't really even know what a doughnut is.  He's never really even seen one before.  I'm not anti-doughnut mind you.  I like a good dunkin doughnut as much as the next guy... especially if there is dark chocolate frosting involved, but...  there is just way too much sugar in our lives today, and so the last thing I need is for my 4 year old to be begging me for a lard-ball boiled in grease and covered with confection.  I have it on good authority from a friend of mine, who used to race plastic boats in the dunkin doughnut batter mix, that this is what doughnuts are.  I believe him.  He never touched em, except to make them.  So, I'm hoping Harley has fun, while not getting himself indoctrinated into the cult of the sugary lard-ball society.  (We have enough to handle trying to keep his consumption of organic lollipops, licorice and cereal bars to a reasonable level.)  Oh, and let's not forget cookies.  No, these are not organic!

Red, my old man, has just picked up some unexpected free lance work.  That is always a blessing. So our hearts are joyful about that.

Sunday, I went to visit my best friend, nick named Little Bear (LB) at the correctional facility where he lives.  ) Please visit his blog)  We gave each other many nick names over the years, because that's what we do.  This is his Native American name.  We use them way more than our real names and now his real name seems weird to me.  I like Little Bear much better and it suits him.  He LOOKS like a little bear!  I swear it!  My NA name is Dancing Cougar, or DC.  And since I couldn't tell you the name of my business, I will throw in our porn names at no extra charge!  His is BD Winslow, and mine is Nappy Alabama. (Don't ask!)  It's just good clean fun...  no animals were harmed in the creation of these names!  So, it was great to see him.  He is still having health issues which concern me, but we had a great time catching up.  I wish there was a way to let people know, REALLY KNOW what prison is like.  I mean you hear a lot of stuff and see lots of stuff on tv, and really, you don't KNOW the half of it till you have to deal with these bastards on a real day to day level how messed up it is at its core.  And there seems to be no governing body to watchdog it, that is not some how an extension of it.  The COs (guards) get away with assault and murder, literally.   Oh, don't worry, the guards who murdered Frank Valdez, who beat him TO DEATH, they did get fired.  Damn, that's some justice, no?  Well, before I totally spiral, my point was that this goes on and on, and there aren't many who care enough, because the inmate population is largely judged to be scum, and are not even considered human by some.   Also, there are so many things in life to care about in life, why waste time with people who fucked up?  So, you see, it's hard for me to know he lives in that place.   The good new is, that besides scaring the bejesus out of me, that place FORCES me  to realize how blessed I am... SHOVES IT RIGHT IN MY FACE!  How simple human contact, freedom of movement and good food ~ just a few of the things which we all take for granted, are such blessings.  

And on that happy note, I hope you all have a lovely week.  :-p   I mean it!!  I am planning on doing the same, and counting my many MANY blessings.

Peace,

pf

Who is going to aplologize to Tiger ?

For taking away his childhood?  His core?

I'm sorry, but this video makes me sick, as cute as he is...  Check out his eyes at the end of this clip.  This is not someone who is treated with respect and love.  I think anyone who would exploit their child in this way is treating them more like a pimp would, than a father.   And where the fuck is his mother in all this?

You cannot FUCK with a child's development and push them in this way, and not expect damage.  Goddammit!  He is human...  Leave him the fuck alone.