Introduction

This blog thing is new to me. I'm not sure how I should introduce the reasons for starting mine or my situation or anything like that, so I just jumping right in to facts seems appropriate. I'm writing this blog as a school assignment, but it could have been on anything I was interested in, passionate or curious about. My English teacher is great like that, giving us free reign to discover ourselves, pulling in the potentially reckless just before we approach a state of being out of hand, like a mother should. No, Mrs. Elliott isn't our mom, but she is considered a role model by some of her students. Anyway, I chose to write about what a mother should be like, should not be like, should do and should not do. My mom lives on an island a little over 2,500 away from me. Maybe you've heard of it, it's called Hawaii. It's a pretty popular place, so you probably have.

This blog is about what I, personally, think mothers should and shouldn't do. I'm doing this so that I will never forget what not to do when I become a mother, in the far far future. I'm not a bitter person, but it's tough not to sound that way when I write about such a personally painful topic that affects me every day. Every time I see a mom driving her kids to school, shopping with her daughter, or mother and child holding hands it hurts me inside a little. Not because i'm spiteful, but in a sad and jealous kind of way. A way in which I would never wish differently for the little girl, hand in hand with her mommy, but I would give anything in the world to be her. Anything I could ever give won't allow me that, though. All I can do is be better for my kids and that's my intention.        

I'm going to start at the logical place, the beginning. My mommy and daddy met in Honolulu, but were both living in Kona, on the big island, at the time. I'm not too sure about all the details except that they started dating when they both got back. A few or maybe a couple years of dating produced yours truly. No ring, no wedding, no dream house, just a baby girl. I guess ANOTHER baby girl for momma. She already had a daughter from a previous relationship. Her name is Symmone and she was seven when she got her first baby sister. Two years, a separation, sole custody, and two plane tickets to the mainland brought me to where I am now, California. In my dad's old stomping grounds, actually.

          The point is: I'm growing up without my mommy and there's nothing I can do about it.