A mirthful experience

all is well this evening, i must say i have no complaints. my daughter is slowly taking the anger out of me more and more everyday. i still get upset at work daily, the difference now is that i know that all i have to do is make it through the day. so that i can come home and squeeze the little monkey. one of the things that i said that i would never do when i became a parent was drift away from my friendships. obviously i have nothing against any of my friends, but life changed. i work to pay the bills, and i live for my family. having a child makes me respect my mother more than ever, how she did it with three im not sure. as an adult all i do is complain about how my mother and father never gave me shit growing up. my dad worked as an electrician and many other things. a very trendy fella with the newest shoes and clothing brands you could think of. dressing to impress those that he cared about the least. however beings how my dad made decent money and never bought me shit seems to have fogged my memory of the great sacrifices that my mom made for all of us. she worked for 3 dollars an hour in the 80s which i would say close to 100% went to her kids. she had a teal sweat shirt with the sleeves cut at the elbows that she wore 3-4 times a week. my mother was beaten every other week or so, but hid it so well that no one knew how serious that the bruises were. skip to the next decade, she left my dad when i turned 15 because my dad kicked me out of the house. at this time she was working at a department store making somewhere in the range of 10-12 dollars an hour. spending 600 dollars on rent and getting a credit card with an insane limit, she maxed it out buying me name brand clothes, nike shoes and a generous weekly allowance so that i could hang out with my normal friends and the normal families living the normal lifestyle she so badly wanted me to have. my mom went through a rough patch and never seemed to get out of the funk which i can't get into today due to the nature of this blog. but the point is that over the years i came to forget the things she did for me and my siblings and i tend to forget that she's the reason that i am alive. people sometimes ask me why i turned out so well after going through the things i went through growing up and i always take the credit, well it's time to set the record straight. basically my mom did it the best that she could, and ultimately she's the reason. i can be a fucked up person at times, but to balance things out i think that i got the best of my mothers attributes, and that is why i am who i am today. i hope that i will be as good of a dad as my mother was my mom.