“There are very few places on the internet that will give you the straight dope on the taint.”
This Is Why I Love You
My future husband’s newest email signature:
This has been an official communique from Derek M. Dukes.
Email: ddukes@gmail.com
Phone: (210) 370-7448
Web: derekmdukes.com
Google: profiles.google.com/ddukes
Twitter: @derekmdukes
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004XJQLSO
The information contained in this email is confidential and may be too awesome for release to the general public. It is intended solely for the use of the individual or entity to whom it is adressed and others authorised to receive it.
If you are not the intended recipient you are hereby:
Notified that any disclosure, copying, distribution or taking any action with respect to the content of this information is strictly prohibited and may be unlawful.
and
Kindly requested to inform the sender immediately and destroy any copies.
Derek M. Dukes is neither liable for the proper and complete transmission of the information contained in this communication nor for any delay in its receipt.
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If you talk about it, you lose it.
My eldest 2 children will be boarding a plane in just a few hours to visit their father for 2 weeks. Let the record show that I am uncomfortable. They’re flying as unaccompanied minors, which to them is no big deal seeing as how they both flew unaccompanied from England to San Antonio and back again only a few summers ago (my daughter being 9 and my son having just turned 7). As a mother though, it’s terrifying. I have so many “what if” scenarios running through my mind that it’s absurd to think I’m going to have even a little bit of restful sleep.
I will only say that I want to write about how a Hemingway quote is helping me cope, and tomorrow once I know that they have safely landed I will write about it. In the interim though, I just want them to make it there in one piece.
You hear that universe? Please don’t let me down.
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Because, what else are you going to do with an Android phone?
Derek got his nifty new Android phone today and he’s been playing with it for the last 4 hours. Even though the baby has been awake and in my arms the majority of said 4 hours, he did redeem himself.
A little.
Future husband? This is why I love you.
Also, this.
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Month Two
Dear Baby C,
Today you turn 2 months old, which is incredible because it seems like it was only a few days ago that I was detailing Month One. Time sure does fly when you are drinking wine having fun!
In the last month you’ve started blooming into this really incredible little person. This is welcome news because I had started looking around for the box you came in. Then I got all pissed off because I couldn’t find the receipt. Then I remembered that the hospital has no return policy and I’m like, well what am I supposed to do now?
So, I started talking to you. Now, I’ve always talked at you, but once you turned a month old I decided to start talking to you. I talked and talked and talked and after a few weeks I had all but given up hope that you’d finally start talking back. And then do you know what happened? On the day you turned 8 weeks and 1 day, you started talking back. I mean, not talking with words, but you finally started responding with noises that weren’t screams. That’s my girl! And since then? Well, you still scream a lot. But you also have the most amazing baby noises. You “oohh” and “ahh” and “coo” and it is music to my ears.
This month we also went on a road trip. We got to see your grandparents, your great granny, and your great grandparents. It was a long trip (and one we’d not like to repeat any time soon since you are an anomaly and hate being in the car), but it was worth it.
You are blooming faster than I’d like though. While I won’t miss the sleepless nights or the screaming because you aren’t in the middle of everything going on around you, I know I will miss this period of blossoming. You are one Super Baby and I love you very much.
Love,
Mama
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Wednesday Comes After Tuesday and Tuesdays are Blue but Never Pink
(Sidenote: I wrote this several years ago and stumbled across it again recently. I’m posting it here because I rather like it. Enjoy!)
I am behind at this because there hasn’t been anything to say, but really there’s been a lot to say and no time or motivation to write it down. Now it’s all just a lost block of events that will only be meaningless until one of them accidentally changes the world. This was supposed to be a Reflection paper, however, once I started writing, the words just wanted to come out without a label, and so… I allowed them.
Adrift as I may be, I am still moving. This has become my mantra. Without knowing any behind-the-scenes details about myself, you probably can’t appreciate how monumental feeling and believing this statement really is.
I never know things are out of hand until there are crumbs on my shoes. This makes no sense until you lean in a little.
I’ve come to know I am a reactor that takes in more than it refuses and I can still make everything unlivable for the rest of human history including the Sheik of Budapest.
And I wonder, of the things I’ve done, who among you really wants to know? I wonder, what absolution do you bring to the table? I don’t seek solace in churches I’ve never bowed in before and I’ve never asked anyone I don’t know for anything. So how dare you state, “Let’s at least hope you’re a better writer than you are a mother.”
I’d never admit it out-loud but my face felt sunburned on the inside when it was said.
If you want to know, I might tell you, but please remember I am under no obligation of the sort. Maybe I can accept being a gossip and maybe I can’t. What time is it?
That being said, I am doing fairly well in my own convictions for this year (thankyouverymuch) and I’m sorry there are people who don’t take me seriously… or they take me too seriously. I cannot comprehend their feeble minds.
The bottom line of anything that has to do with me is very simple: I don’t owe you anything and I expect that same amount of obligation in return from others. Why some people would expect me to so much as tell them it’s dark outside is beyond me. I am many things, but stupid is not a trait among them.
It’s kind of funny the sort of people who take me at the face value they assign to me and then get hunched over when I don’t give them what they want to hear.
I’m happier now than I think I have been in the last five years. Considering that last month I was borderline (no pun intended) miserable, I can see that it might seem like trompe l’esprit and I wonder that myself. If it is, then I’ll get over it eventually and start again. If it’s not, then this is what I’ve been waiting for and I pity the foggy bastard who schemes to take it from me.
I don’t know exactly what changed, or when, but it DID. Sometime, maybe while I was sleeping, a switch flipped in a closet somewhere over the international date line and there it was…
The point is, I feel different and I can feel a difference in things around me.
I am calmer and things are slower. I like that but I didn’t expect that I would. (To note, I like arrogance as much as the next girl but there has to be something there to be rightfully arrogant about.)
I have a lot of things to do and I don’t even remember when I stopped doing them… and in some cases, I never stopped, I just… let them go a little bit which was still too much. It was the catalyst that set me on a collision course that managed to encounter a few tailspins as well. I may regret that for the rest of my life but it won’t be the only thing.
If it’s worth so much to anyone to wag their tongues about what I am and what I’m not and what I say and what I don’t, then the generous thing to do would be to let them have at it. Obviously they have so much going for them that they have time to spare and who am I to fault anyone for that?
Of course I will fault them, because I can criticize anyone for anything, but I’m not going to put myself into a winch knot over that fact.
Not being liked, not holding the respect of people I don’t care about, and not fitting the criteria they themselves assigned me won’t make me vanish into thin air. I still exist and I want to say I’m sorry that’s such a bitter pill for people to swallow, but I’m really not sorry. I kind of gain gratification from knowing ten years from now, I’ll still prey upon their plural-but-very-singular minds and they’ll still have something nasty to say in my memory.
That, gentlemen and ladies, used to be what it was all about and nearly regretfully, it’s not anymore.
I didn’t see “the light” or find Jesus or get taken aboard Zenu’s alien spacecraft for probing… I am still me, I just really don’t have a problem with being “me,” (at the moment) and it feels like a good thing to be alive. And really, who wouldn’t I share that with?
It would be nothing short of criminal not to run it for all it is worth.
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Google Transcript FAIL
“Hi. This is Erica from. Braman and I think. I’m trying to deliver your concern. I think I’m in your house. But there’s no what’s going on, and I can’t will tell. And we’re not. I love you. Hello, If you are up to the house without a light on, at night So if you could please call me back. I would gladly bring it so if you could. Have a good night. Thanks.”
Apparently:
1. Erica is in my house. (She’s from Braman. I think that’s in Ohio?)
2. She is trying to deliver my concern.
3. And, we’re not. (In my house?)
4. She loves me.
5. SHE WILL BRING IT.
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You must be new.
Hello, I’m Julie. Welcome to my little corner of the blarg-oh-sfear. After a brief hiatus, I have returned. Rejoice bitches!
Do or Die
Tomorrow I am trading in my corporate title for a domestic one. All the deets coming up…
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Month One
Dear Baby C,
Well would you look at that? You’re a month old already and you aren’t dead yet. Better yet, your father and I aren’t dead yet either! This is great news because it means we must be doing something right, eh? Your first month has gone by so quickly that it’s hard to believe that just a month ago today I was absolutely certain I wasn’t ever going to go into labour. I kept putting off going to the hospital because I really worried that it was just another false alarm. But nope! Just a few short hours after arriving at the hospital, we finally got to meet you face to face.
See that face up there? That’s you in the hospital. See that face your making? You’ve made that exact face every single day since the day you were born. Judging by your already stubborn nature and your considerable willfulness, your nickname has come to be Miss Hissy. I wholeheartedly believe you are going to grow up believing that to be your actual name. Why? BECAUSE YOU HISS. ALL. THE. TIME. It’s astounding really that you’ve already mastered your first language, but neither your father nor myself speak Parseltounge, so if you could start talking English, that’d be swell.

See that face up there? You should do that more often. You’ve only been living here a month and you complain ALL THE TIME. The other day I told you to quit your bitchin and do you know what you did? YOU IGNORED ME. I’m begging you Miss Hissy. Please listen to your mama. Please?

See that face up there? DO MORE OF THAT ALSO PLEASE.
In all seriousness though, you are a good baby. You generally sleep really well, you eat ALL THE TIME, and you’ve started doing this thing in the morning when you wake up where you are actually pleasant. It’s a lot of fun and when your father wakes up in the morning to get ready for work, I make sure to include him so he gets to enjoy this part of your personality. I do this because without fail you start yelling at him once he gets home from work. Give the guy a break! It’s not his fault that he doesn’t have milk bags to suck on!

I want you to know that we’re doing our best here. And we’ll keep that up if you do. Deal?

Deal.
Love,
Mama
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