My Heart Goes Out

In the early part of my childhood, I didn't realize anything was different about my upbringing. I was two when the divorce happened, so it was not unnusual that it was just my mom, brother, and me.

My dad was always in my life and I used to hang on his leg every time he came by. Also, I was also very upset when he didn't come when we expected him. He had a lot of jobs to help pay child support to his three kids (I have an older half brother), and keep his house.

The three of us moved around a lot. We went around to different duplex's and we gained and lost new friends along the way. I remember 448 Sherburne the most. I was there until I was 5.

There were neighbors to the left who were African immigrants, who had two boys. I was jealous of their flexi-blocks. Our neighbors to the right were Hmong. I remember staring through the fence and talking back in jibberish. I wasn't mocking, I just wanted to talk to the kids.

The neighbors 3 houses down were a white man, his deaf Hmong wife, and their kids. I was there tons. We played whenever we could. Even when the kids weren't out, I would run over in my Superman pajamas and use their swing.

We drank powdered milk and ate food from white and yellow boxes. Hot dogs and Mac and cheese. PB & J. When I needed a snack, it was often peanut-putter on a spoon or, my favorite, cinnamon toast. Or, she would say "Go drink water."

We were given a good amount of freedom. My hair was always an unkempt mess, but it was curly and it looked cute on me, so it was okay. I learned to dress myself pretty early. I'm not sure I coordinated my wardrobe well, but I could do everything but tie my shoes. She worked as a hotel maid during this time, so I remember our "vacations" at the hotel.


There were boyfriends. My mom worked at a bar for extra cash and always seemed to get the musicians or deadbeats. She wasn't confident in herself to go after much better. There were some nice guys, then there were some abusive jerks.

One boyfriend in particular impacted us the most. For one, he moved us away from 448 Sherburn to this new duplex his brother co-owned. This new place had mean kids in the neighborhood. He and his Indian brothers got drunk together all the time and ate hard boiled eggs. They played "covered wagon" with me. It was just very unpleasant. We moved on to an apartment on Marion, I remember this guy was always coming over drunk (or as it turned out, high on coke). He used to ring the downstairs buzzer button to the tune of "Shave and a Haircut". That turned into a major anxiety trigger (another blog topic for later). As soon as he was in, he and Mom would have crazy arguments that would drive her to tears, then me. I was scared. My dad threatened, but never belted me. This guy lashed me once at the duplex. Eventually, thank God, he was out of our lives for good.

Meanwhile, my dad had re-married and I was able to see him on a much more consistent basis. My step-mom was very loving, very encouraging of my educational achievements, and has always had an infectious laugh. She seemed very different when she was angry at us, but only because she was unmoving in her discipline. If you want to be a good parent, love your kids A LOT! Show it often, so your disappointment breaks their heart. So in retrospect, she did everything right.

But, there was a certain tension when we were there. Partly, because we NEVER brought good or clean clothes to do anything that weekend. Also, because it seems we only showered on Saturday nights over there. They both truly felt they got the shit end of the stick. They encountered much of the financial burden (in addition to child support), but didn't have the benefit of having us there. "What is she doing with my child support?""What does she do all day?"


I always just got by without knowing specifically what was going on with our lives. I didn't think different of it. I was in 2nd or 3rd grade when I asked mom "Are we on welfare?"

Which she said "Yes."

What was welfare? Welfare kids always got shit from the other kids in school. Am I now inferior, now that I know.

What did mom do? Well, there was a period when she was going to school for accounting. But, she eventually gave up. She watched soaps, did laundry. Sent us on errands, like getting donut stix and nutty bars from the gas station. She spent a bunch of time at bars with her other fat welfare friends, checking out bands. We were baby-sat by our half brother often. It was fun. I learned how to curse, watched booby movies on Showtime, and had vodka snuck into my kool-aid (he claims now just a little bit to get me to sleep). Or, we would be left alone. I would've been just short of 10, my brother was 12 when she started doing this.

And gosh, the a-holes kept coming... they each left a mark on my life some how



Just before I was in high school, she was slowly getting herself off of the system. First it was part time work at Blockbuster Video. Then, she got a new job at Godfather's Pizza. She eventually worked herself onto salary as a supervisor. Enough to think about buying a house... and that's where I end this chapter.

She was on government assistance it because she needed help moving out on her own with kids. This seemed like the only option. Why did we stay on it for so long? Despondent.Depressed. She cared, but then she didn't. What could she do? She just got by in high school and did not drive a car.

I was told by my dad recently that he and my step mom had tried to obtain custody of us when we were kids. I could only wonder how that would've turned out.

Would I act or feel as weak as I do? Would I be as shy of person as I am? Would I've taken to "guy" things, such as fixing things and working on cars? Or depending on when I would be taken in, would I have been set in my ways and my personality.

There's no reason to be bitter now. I am who I am, things were how they were. I should be glad to have lived through this now. It's taught me to appreciate the small things. It's also taught me the greater rewards of hard work.

I am bitter at people who take advantage of the system and plan on kids to get or stay on welfare. There are people who are able, but just don't try.

So why is this blog called "My Heart Goes Out"? Because there are people who do it on their own with little to no assistance. "Girl Meets Geek" is a blog on my side bar. This entry is a response to one of her entries. It always seems to be one step forward and two steps back for her. I want her to succeed in life, more than I wish for my own success. My heart goes out to anyone doing the "right" thing in life, and not looking for short cuts.