I Am The Angrivated Mom: A Post-Thanksgiving and Birthday Musing

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It is hard for me to believe sometimes, just how far I have come in life. In the grand scheme of life, it may not seem as though I’ve taken more than a few baby steps down the beaten path. But, if you look over yonder past the trampled down, worn out road everyone else seems to favor, you will see the deep rutted grooves where I’ve been off-roading instead. It is in that bog of trials, triumphs, and tribulations in which I owe a debt of gratitude to life for always giving me more. There are many a’ times when I didn’t deserve a bit of what I got. Yet, I journey on still.

When life gets flipped-turned upside down frequently and dysfunctional is your middle name, most people would just accept their despondent fate and live with it in misery. They certainly wouldn’t keep fighting for better than the wretched excuse of good hand dealt to them time after time again. People come to terms with the facts of life too easily, taking their place in line without question or concern and without a care over whether they really like it, or, not. I am not one of those people. I am always seeking the who, what, where, when, why, and how, because the cut and dry of seeing everything in black and white is never good enough for me. And I couldn’t picture it any other way. I just don’t understand the sheeple who like to stay within the parameters of their. perfectly square box and pull the ignorance card anytime they feel cornered. Someone has to balance out all the idiots in this world country, and I guess I’m one of ’em. That’s a pretty big thing to be appreciative of; I could always be sheeple. I would hate to be a sheeple. Hate it!

Being the type who cartwheels her way through life, tumbling along nonchalantly as time does what it pleases, I’m very accident prone. Things just seem to happen to me. Mostly bad, very little good, and all of it coming without any forewarning or inkling of a clue. I manage to run right smack into roadblocks, face plant over speed bumps, and break more mirrors worth of bad luck then I have years to live. (Unless you know if it is indeed possible to live until you are 193!) I guess it’s the price I have to pay for getting more when I least deserved it; in return, now, I’m getting what I least deserve when I’m least deserving of the shit storm. But I’m thankful to pay such a price.

I’m a big dreamer with very little luck, yet I never stop believing that my dreams might come true one day. One of them already is through these words I type today- sharing my writing with the world has always been something important I really wanted to do. And I’m certainly doing it now! Now, I’m not so irrational as to believe my chance at being a Prima Ballerina with the NYC Ballet Company and being cast as the lead soloist is still a reasonable possibility, but I digress. I dream big, nonetheless. Even having the odds stacked against me with the short ends of the sticks constantly can’t put a damper on me wishing on every fallen star. My soul runs wild and free off the beaten path despite all the gazillions of reasons life has given me to stay on course and get with the program. Spinning donuts through the mud and the muck and caking everything within a hundred yard radius is more fun then following the straight and narrow; just way messier to deal with in the long haul. I’m grateful for every bit of mud I’ve ever splashed through, even if I’m still scraping it off some years later.

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So much I could be bitter about. Dodging pot holes and scaling sheet rock between spin outs is only fun for so long before the struggle gets old and wears you down. But, I’m not most people. What breaks others and bends them until they snap only fuels my drive. It’s why I’ve never ran outta gas despite stalling out and rolling over so many times while off-roading. Something inside me likes the difficulty and turbulence of the road less traveled upon and thrives from the overcoming of the trials it presents me with. The struggle strengthens me. Makes wise of me. Empowers me. I am forever indebted to my travels through the sludge for showing me who I am and what I bring to the table. And, most importantly, how to love myself. Some people will never be able to figure out what their real purpose in this life is or figure out how to be genuine. Some people will only define themselves by the opinions of others and never see themselves as they are.

Not me.

My journey through life may be a bit muddied, messed up, and full of plight. It may be an astonishing aberration in comparison to all those who walk a straight line with society. It has most certainly been WTF worthy a time or two…Okay!…Okay!…a bajillion times, but who the Hell is counting? Oh. Yeah. All those damn mongrel naysayers and ignorant hate trolls. I have ZERO fucks to give them though. Notta. Nuthin’. Zip. Zilch.

I am who I am and that’s that. Angry with the world and aggravated by the easy life…I am the Angrivated Mom. And I love it! Don’t you, too? That’s right, I know you do!

By: Kristina Hammer, aka, The Angrivated Mom

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