I woke up actually think about marriage today.

Progress. Men are much like pets. Yep. I said it.

Men like to be taken care of. Why is that bad? But it is bad and it starts with moms. The first trainer who trains them. Or doesn’t train them.

I’ve been married three time. All three men had potential. But training got in the way. And why should I settle? The wife is not the new caretaker. Both should be trained to man the marriage boat together. But that’s not the case a lot of the time. Men are left out of so many classes growing up.

The worlds changed since the sixties when Wive maned the home and men maned the world. We feed them so they can work and then they can’t even balance a check book? Let alone manage their own hormones.

Does any Mama show their son how to conversation with a woman? Do Mamas just teach their sons to take the garbage out? what about all the rest? She’s supposed to cook and clean and wash clothes and of course, provided the sex services he needs to stay sane? What do we get? The wives?

I’ll tell you what we get, we get to finish the job the Mamas should have done in the sorts place and that’s work. Most of their growing up days are spent in nature. Outside. Shooting birds with guns and playing in the dirt and mud. That’s kind of messed up since we spend our days cleaning.

And does the wife even get credit for this taking care of the man business? Well? Not like wives could. Think about it. She’s does all the dirty work and he gets the pension and the watch. How is this progress? And now a days. Woman work another job on top of the wife job of taking care of her man and the offspring he helps her produce.

It’s a margin that’s defiantly in need of a moving. As young boys need way more training for life with a wife. Spending time in nature is great. And men love nature. So much they buy guns and boats and all kind of stuff to go out in nature while the wife stays home and cleans and drinks wine.

I’ve had three husbands. Three different men trained by different woman. Three men with different fathers. My first had a Mama who did everything while her husband gambled to provide for the family. I married the middle son. He was the one most like his father who would stay gone for months and then blow in to make his Mama pregnant again and then leave to go do god knows what our on the road of life. My first husbands father was a handful. He was quite the pet.

My first husband had his issues with woman and was much like his father. He could figure the demotic life out and ended up cheating on me and bouncing with a waitress who liked to do drugs. Lovely. Men are such a ball of fun to unravel. While I was cooking up our baby he was cooking up all kind of things we won’t mention now.

My second husband was raised in the hollers if Kentucky sweeping the dirt in front of the house. They were poor. But he got a better tasing then my first. He learned about housework. Which was a fabulous thing. He did not know how to budget or pay the bills. But he was a very hard worker. So I was married to him for 13 years. And then the kids grew up and he lost his shit. He was not prepared for teenagers. His family feel apart too and his father was much like the first husband father who stayed Away for long periods of time?

The third husband was a Mamas boy. He could do a lot. Outside. But picking up a mop was foreign to him. He hated to paint. He complained a lot. And he stole things he should not have. Which told me a lot about his family dynamics. He liked to party and go to football games. Drinking was the family pastime. We camped. All that good stuff. And he could prepare for that. But he wasn’t prepared for his own children growing up? His Mama was tasing his kids while he let her.

And he lied. Dumb lies. And he just could not change. His Mama missed that lesson all together. He just had a hard time telling it like it was. He could seem to tell the truth. And at 12 years in I confronted his behavior and he left. If he could change hat he would have stayed but he could not. So he left. Why do woman have to put up with men that have not even been trained to tell the truth?

My son? Well he’s got three woman right now who don’t put up with shit. And he’s learning. But I don’t necessarily believe he will ever marry. My brothers on my Dads side did not marry early? And it a job being a husband. The wife is not the new mom replacement. the wife will challenge her man to grow beyond his raising.

I challenged all of mine. Woman do seem to know how to run a home. But men don’t seem to know how to run a home and think it happens by osmosis. They love having wifey at home. They love hot meals of wheels. Sex. That’s at the top of the list. But they don’t seem to know how to water the flowers they marry by doing some good old learning to do better. They all came to the table with some skills. And when challenged to do better they al bounced. Marriage is not some scared institution?? It’s more like a prison for woman.

While we scrub the toilet they flirt with the checkers. My husbands didn’t even know how to introduce me? That’s a fun one at a party when he can’t remember the name and just decides not to introduce you as the wife? There’s so much involved in the marriage business. And men just are not trained to be challenged.

And it becomes like taking care of a pet that’s way more work then they are worth. Leaving you the now Wife/ new Mother in charge of a god knows what he will do. We see it all the time. Men tanking at life with their woman. Woman have their issues. This post is not about that. I’ll write about us woman later. Woman also need to be challenged to go outside. I love working outside along side a man. Love it.

But it’s got to be even. Men just can’t leave the woman’s work for men to them all day. He is the mess she is cleaning up for? Socks in the floor. Dirty boots? The list goes in.

Now I am single again. And the men come around. Cuz I am a damn good catch. But I am not a fish. They will have to work. This time around. I may never marry again. I’ve all the pets I need right now. And I just do not need another mouth to feed but my own. I love marriage. I do not like retraining. Or explaining. As you can see by the way I write I cut to the chase. Cuz that’s how I was raised. So. But I get shit done and want someone who’s gonna pull with me and not drag me down.

I love god. And finding a man who loves god like I do? Good luck. I’ve been an evangelist my whole married life leading wild men to god. They say, “find a man who loves god, yet the church’s are filled with woman? Most men do not worship on Sunday unless it’s on a boat, in a duck blind, or in front of a television watching the game. While we pray over a budget? They are thinking about buying the next power tool. And we spend to much? Ha ha. Men are expensive. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

And now Mama. That’s was pretty good. I made it all that way with even mentioning her. But here she is rolling around in my mind. I bet Mama knows what I mean. She’s loved some men in her day. At some point she kind of liked my dad? And was married twice. So she knows how to keep a man if she wants to keep him. She and I are much a like. While I was far away from her my life paralleled hers in many way.

That’s what it’s like being adopted. Your just living life. Going along being you. You don’t know who you came from or who you might be like and you grow up. Then you find home and see all the folks you are like. But they don’t seem to see you? You have accepted who you are but they don’t seem to know themselves that well? You naturally do all the things Mama doesn’t want you too and push all her buttons. It’s so lovely. Going home this way. Wonderfully challenging.

Guess my husbands prepared me for her? The leaver. The runway bride. The white stag is my life. The ghost. The witch. The Mother shadow I stand in looking all Linda like. The illusive one. The mother unit. The oven this bun came from. The sometimes nurturer. Guess I need to learn how to fish and hunt like a man to either hook? Or shoot. I’m going with fishing. Phil fishes. That’s a good angle. He did well with her. Follow him. There’s hope. His bodies dead and now he can talk to you since your born that way and can hear from the other side. Fish for her Belinda. He seems to say.

I’ve been studying the fishing hole for years. The Mama pond. Where is she hiding today? I’m gonna have to get in the boat and use the fish finder today. As I play catch and release with my own Mama. you know? Little girls can learn how to pray well and ask for things their Mamas don’t realize they are asking for her? Did Mama even think about me praying? Like breathing. I’ve prayed something’s. For her.

Like. That she would have a great day at work. That if she was sick, if I was feeling her sick that she would get better. That god would help the doctors heal her. That god would keep her alive until we are united again. And properly introduced to each other. That’s god would prepare me to give her an account in my where about. That’s I would be able to confirm her prayers were heard. I ask god for a connection. A pink phone if you will that connects me through god to my Mama. Just a phone call away. I prayed for that.

And I asked god to tell me when Mama needed me to pray. She did not need a lot of prayer. She’s strong willed. Like me. I always talked about sisters. Always. My friend Susan’s can vouch for that. Do I have sisters? Yes I have sisters. Two older sisters. Which shows I remember my sisters. Cellular memory. The body remember if you learn how to read your own body. It will tell you. What to pray for.

Like that last week. If feels like Mama has been cleaning. She’s been in better skirts then she has been. It’s slower then I like. But she seems to be coming out of a funk. When Phil died. Oh boy did it hit me. Boom. Mama was spinning. Reeling. And all the shit came home. To roost. On her. And I felt it. My spidy senses activated in her behalf and the god damn pink phone? Ringing like crazy. Orders from my head quarters. Mama was in the line to god about me. Oh yes. And Phil. Was right. God damn it!

So I went to praying like I always do when Mama needs help. Duh? Just cuz your Mama kept you don’t mean shit honey. Us adopted ones? Got our own connections. Y’all be blind as bats about your Mamas. These eyes ain’t blue for nothing. I have clear sight for miles. Thanks to god and my pink phone connection. You call yours a closet. Mine is a phone on a desk. Prominently set in a place of honor. I am not in the closet about god. I pray in a field laced with flowers to an all consuming god who lives within this body tossed around like a potato. The sovereign abide always within this temple called me. That’s what salvation is. Knowing who lives within. Who sees all we do.

And gods told me about what my Mamas done and does. And what she needs even though I am miles away I am a prayer away to her. and her conscious mind needs to get that fact. Toot sweet.

Cus I’m reading her like the Sunday paper. Just like she reads me like her Sunday paper and the other kids too. We all do. But folks just don’t really see it. It just is. But for those adopted we see it’s lack growing up until we find home and see it was always there. Divorce. Marriage. Loving your Mama ain’t easy in this world. People got a lot of ideas about Mamas that just don’t turn out to be facts. But loving a leaver Mama. Now that’s a challenge.

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