I was raised by a single mother. She washed my mouth out with soap when I said my first swear word, or was it because I wouldn’t brush my teeth? I was three. Either way, I didn’t swear in front of her, and always brush my teeth. It’s was because I swore. I never swore in front of her for the rest of her life. I got the belt too. If you had to raise two boys, you understand. It’s not to inflict harm, but to get their attention nothing more. a WAKE UP AND PAY ATTENTION. At four years old, a quick smack will wake them up, then you can explain that you love them, why you are reprimanding them, and what is wrong with their behavior. You’d be surprised of how much a kid can retain. Imagine if I hit my kid because she peed the bed, it would just make the problem worse, instead I just stripe her down, wipe here off (high five for baby wipes), throw a towel down, dress her, then tell her I love her so she doesn’t fell self-consciousness. No shoes, No shirt, No problem.
There is nothing better than a kid waking you up 7 o’clock in the morning in total excitement because they didn’t pee the bed.
IF IT’S 9pm, forgo the smack, you’re at fault, your’e kid is overtired. Then again, I’m not a retired NFL stars with ALS, you’re not either.
As I mentioned before, I was hit with a belt, smacked in the face, and had my mouth washed out with soap by a 4’11” (4ft, 11-inches) mother. While some of the method’s were crude, they worked. It was that shock factor of “holy shit” she really is washing my mouth out with soap.
Being 4’11”, I learned to out run my mom and the belt. (it increased my 40-yard time to a 4.7) My grandfather beat his boys. That’s all I know. The only specifics I have is, He loved them, and his daughters, to his death.
As a child, I was smacked, not beaten. That’s all it took to get my attention. I actually don’t have to use any corporal punishment to raise my daughter. It’s more of the in-fluctuation of my voice that gives her the wake up call, for boys sometimes it takes a little smack on the bottom if the are 4-and under.
I was fortunate. As my daughter was being born, I worked on vineyard time, everyone and everybody focused on helping me to become a father. They had the monetary position in life to stop and take the time to talk to me. That’s how I learned to be a Dad, Own my time, and being a Dad.
Most of you have a parent, who’s still alive, that will tell you that taking a switch to the backside doesn’t work, My mother was 6-years dead before I had my daughter. How did I learn to be a Dad?
A retired School Superintendent: Mr. Gear? or was it Mrs. Miller? that’s not important. The importance is the lesson of consequences .
Their son being 12-years old, said, “you can’t hit me. If you hit me, I can call the Department of Social Services and they will put you in jail.”
Being a 6’8″ Wisconsin Badger College lineman, He tells his son, ” you know what, you right,”
You can report me to DSS because you don’t want to get up for school. You have the Power to put Mommy and Daddy in jail, but see this pool table, that ice hockey table, that pool in the backyard that all goes away too. Then you get placed into a foster home with people you don’t know who don’t have a pool table, or a backyard, while mommy and daddy sit in jail. There’s a good chance they are a lot meaner that mommy and daddy.
Most important, his son understood the consequences of his actions from a 6’8″ man that never laid a had on him.
That’s how I learn to raise a child without corporal punishment.
She”s dead and gone, I swear like a sailor..
There’s an innumerable number of people that I can read instantly. I don’t know how I do it, but there’s a connection between us. Other times, its a window view of who you are. Sometimes I instantly read that you’re a fake, other times I can’t
That’s actually worth a lot to the people I can read instantly. Not so much monetarily, but that piece of mind, that vague information, and a feeling of not being so alone in this elitist club when you home alone.
I’ve spent the day being a dad, taking my daughter to dance, ordering and paying for her costumes, sitting down and having lunch with her, then returning home, unwinding with my daughter. Her hugs are priceless.
My brother deserves to be in jail and re-educated. I can’t thank the outside third party enough.
Image if I had the power to get my brother out on bail, Use a favor on him. It would have been like trying to fix a broken mirror to remove 7-years bad luck.
That’s me, Walking in humility. I have to say no. How big is your ego?
Common ground: We don’t fear our egos.
I remember one night, during my divorce, where my ex-wife had nothing to do, so she spent it at her parents. Being my weekend, with our daughter, I took care of my daughter in our marital home and then put her to bed. The girlfriend at the time, thought it was unfair that I had to maintain the status quo of the marriage.
A texting fight ensued…I emerge from putting my daughter to bed, hear the story, check my phone’s text and then check the soon to be ex-wifes phone for here GPS. (Part of maintaining the status quo of the marriage during a divorce is paying her cell phone bill), She’s heading over.
I kiss the girlfriend goodnight, grab her ass, and bid her a adieu.
Protective of my daughter and our time together. I locked down the house. My ex-wife shows up with four-dudes behind her. God bless her, she a great reminder, but at the same time can be forgetful as shit. This night, in pure rage, she remembers that the back slider never locks right, unless you really slam it closed. With the 4-dudes at the front door, she runs around to the back door.
Her daughter is in the house with my hoe of a girlfriend! Hearing that back slider open, I grab her by the waist, lift her up, and place her back on the back porch (being literatal here), No fucking shit, as I lifted her, and she squealed (farted)…
Her father kicked in the front and he and the 3-other guys tried to wrestle me. I escape from this pile on scrum with a clean shot on each of them. My ex-wife calls 9-11 and then disturbs my daughter as she’s peacefully sleeping. (this is my story not yours)
This is water under the bridge for us. A time that Maddy was too young to remember.
Today, Maddy has a village of people looking after her. Starting with me, her mom, her mom’s beau, the neighbors, grandparents (mine are dead) , Today, as I pick Maddy up from work. I am reminded of this.
Sure, as my brother sits in jail and I decide it’s the best course of action for his situation. I watch as Maddy, enthusiastically, driving Baby Bella around in their life-size motorized car. Tired, I grunt and groan, small talk with mom and her beau. This is actually a good place for all of us, especially the kids.
Then baby bella actually speaks! My next vision is clear as day.
I see my next chapter…
There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my daughter, and you?
I was actually arrested for Domestic Violence by a close friend. As I sat in the back of the police car, I talked with another officer and my friend issued the temporary restraining order. I thinks it’s called 209A. I didn’t slug my ex-wife and and certainly didn’t knock her out. I did grab her by the hips to prevent her from gaining entry through my backdoor. She, being an Irish fair-skin lad, my hands left a red mark around her waist. (center-of-gravity).
I was immediately put in hand-cuffs under the Domestic Violence statute. In my state, it is any unwanted touching by a spouse or cohabitant, as it was explained to me, sitting in the back of a police car. My ex-wife showed up with 4-dudes, the temporary 209A might have saved my life that night. Between the 5-of them and the 4-months without seeing my daughter (she was too young to remember this), they couldn’t keep their stories straight. It was CWOF and I had to see a psychologist every week for 6-months.
For those of you reading up on how to get rid of a roommate. You may want to read up on you’re state’s Domestic Violence laws. Just Saying.
My brother was first beat up when he was four (4). I’ve heard 2-versions of the story – I wasn’t even one-years-old. He grew up in a culture of fighting. Before drugs when he was young, it was as an anti-bully. He could beat-up anyone that picked on his deaf classmates and childhood friends. When he threw a punch, he didn’t miss .
As he fell into the depths of drugs. Let’s just say, he’s afraid of me when he’s on drugs. It might have been a lucky shot, but I didn’t miss. Granted, I was sober as hell. That’s just brother’s fighting. Then it’s waking the other one up, making sure you’re okay.
I never slapped or hit a women. My brother has…No man has ever, ever laid a finger on our mother.
At the request of my niece – after a night of drugs (the 2nd of the month) – I would intervene in the physical fights between my brother and her mother. Sometimes it would be my brother, other times she would be at fault and physically combative. It’s always over cigarettes and drugs.
I can predict this like clock-work, my niece is getting old enough to predict it too. I can’t be everywhere. Not to mention they are falling behind on their rent. I have to decide if it’s my brother, her, or the both of them working in cahoots trying to get out of paying rent.
I’ve seen her on drugs pushing my brother’s buttons. She missing a rent payment, then sober’s up.(that oh, fuck moment) Realizes that she better shape-up or ship out. My brother not so much. Whatever he is on, there is no sobering up moment, except jail-time, then rehab…a little more jail time. He was giving an $18-hr landscaping job in June and was fired by June 21st!
Of course, as my brother sits in a jail cell. His girlfriend is leaves the front door open and the door leading to my nieces bedroom. I’m a late sleeper. I walk down and re-lock the door. It’s 1am. I have to ask myself, “Is she trying to sell my 11-year old niece for drugs?” I lock the doors!
The following night it’s 2am and I get some dumb fuck in a green truck looking for drugs. I snap his picture and license plate and decide it’s time for me to exercise my right to invoke a 14-day notice, since they owe $900 in back rent. She is only required to pay 1/3 of income in rent. The state picks up the rest. (i’m losing money here)
My impulse is to kick the bitch out, I may do that, if she keeps up her drug habits. Right now that would send the wrong message to my niece. My brother has been in the throws of drugs. I fought him 3-months ago. I understand why her mother didn’t have her share of the rent. She made past mistakes. This time wasn’t her fault. She gets the reprieve, for now.
My focus is my niece, her fears, My small town. That’s how I’m going to end domestic violence in my small world.
Normally, I would be an asshole to my brother’s girlfriend. She gets a month’s reprieve without dealing with my brother.
She get’s a chance to survive without the threat of domestic violence, being hit by her father, or boyfriend…most likely for the first time in her life…
Hopefully she takes advantage of this opportunity, chances are she will turn to drugs…
I really don’t give a shit. What I can do is take my daughter and niece to the Museum of Science and explain why her father is in jail and how to avoid being in the same situation as her parents. That’s what I’m going to do to help Domestic Violence.
Watching my Sunday football, I’m just blah. Belicheck is just trying to be competitive, he has no deep hunger to coach up his team to win a Super Bowl, Brady can barely win against the Dolphins, never-mind the Seahawks. It happens, when you marry-up…or after you win Super Bowls and don’t care anymore. You settle.
I’m here too, I don’t care anymore. I have my money. I have my leverage. I have my friends (a small group). The capital to start my own pittance of a business if I ever get fired.
I’ve met a beautiful girl who barely has time for me …she has a job too.
Now I have to find time to take vacation and maintain my job?
That’s in 6-months, tonight at the poker table you just saw my face card, I flip my face card.
Getting lost in my friend’s beautiful pine? polyethylened floors, I realized that I need to incorporate breakfast into my schedule. Today, I needed this visit more than him, this see-saw of a relationship has been tipping in his favor more times than not, hence the early morning beck n’ call. He precipitated this call. Are you keep tabs on you’re true friends…how about possible mentorees?
It was all we could do to squeeze in this time to spend with each-other. Again, I need this more than him, and he took the time to call me. I talk with deep, deep, humility.
I look at the long term and proceed on my way.
I’m on one cup of Joe, eh, coffee. I have time before my 9am to 11ams, which is when the kids are on the bus and the work from homes are ready to deal with me.
I stop in at an old childhood breakfast spot(Percy’s Place Kingston), I’m trying to incorporate breakfast back into my schedule, I shit-you-not, my best friend who lived next door to my brother’s dad is having breakfast. He was just passing by.
As we enjoy breakfast and catch up (5-minutes), then we decide that we don’t have anything else to say, (awkward silence)..
A Police car shows up across the street, very quickly after that a second. A Hispanic emerges with three-pit bull mixes.
We are on the edge of our seat!
Here we are with nothing left to say, and some Hispanic walking his 3-Pit Bulls is pissed offed. The local cops, we vaguely remember 3-of-the-5. HOLY SHIT, THEY JUST TAZED HIM!
He jumps back-up, unfazed, they tazed him again. (back the fuck down motherfucker) then he gets cuffed by all 5-police officers and sent to the closest hospital. Animal Control is called about the 3-pit bulls. Jason, has no problem with them.
That’s how you prevent another Ferguson. How’s you’re community outreach program going?
The first time my mother met my divorce attorney, he pulled up on a motorcycle, exposed his ponytail, grab his brief case and got her out of the legal scrum she was in. For many years after that, he remain my mother’s “go to attorney”
When she died, on one leg, he guided me through the legal process of dealing with death.
Building a house with a mean-spirited neighbor, I remember him saying, “you need clout!”
After an infuriating conversion with my ex-wife’s attorney (on way my home to celebrate my daughter’s birthday) – she stopped taking my calls – I call John to represent me.
To close this divorce, I take John’s advice and assume all the marital debt. I’m the breadwinner in this relationship, have enough clout to win in front of a judge, but why are you going to pay me $15K when you could concede and pay-off that 15K in marital debt?
My credit score tanked during this process. Do you have a lot of Credit Card Debt? There’s a way out!
With no effort my credit score hovers around 680, maybe it was 720? 740. It was so long ago. Assuming all this marital credit card debt, it plunge to 620 and my go-to-bank said NO! to refinancing my debt which would have freed up $400 a month for me. I’m current on all my bills at this income level! They weren’t giving out any loans.
I just focus on one debt at a time. First the marital vehicle. I pay off the auto-loan. Then I take that car payment and tackle my marital credit card debt! Through my Social Media Network, I hired an agency and my score drops to 520! A HUNDRED FUCKING POINTS! Meanwhile I’m working with a bank to get the ex-wife off the deed of my last remaining property (got a belt?) They give me a to-do-list to get approved and we’ll reconnect in 9-months. How banks did business before the interest-only, no income verification scandal. Is Dick Cheney still alive?
With all my credit card debt paid-off and no car-payment, I’m must of did something right. They won’t leave me alone. My low credit score is 610, my high credit score is 650, 670. The original agreement was to get above 600 and they will find a loan product to get the ex-wife off the deed!
With the ex-wife off the deed, I don’t have to worry about how much money I make, how am I going to raise my credit score, or how can I make more money just to satisfy my obligations.
Having no credit card debt, nor do I have any open credit card accounts, I take $500 out of my savings and apply for a secure credit card. My Score Jumps 60-80 points higher than when I started this divorce journey.
How much of a dent have you made in your credit card debt in the past 18-months? Mines Gone, Poof, it doesn’t exist anymore. Can you afford to tank you credit for the the next 18-months, 24-months…debt consolidation might be the answer for you.
This month, instead of paying my divorce attorney $250/hr and having to work for every scrap of work that’s out there, I helped out an associate, so he doesn’t have to work Saturday, write next months checks including Disney, and then go Fairy Supplies shopping with my daughter.
Who are you listening to? How much experience do they have?
Do they have clout to put someone out of business – legally – on their reputation alone?
$500 towards a secure credit card and my credit score rebounded to pre-recession levels overnight. It’s was 3-year process with the right legal advice and a little social media networking.
Do you read? I do.