The Pie Baker

Fresh from the Oven

Scarred for Life

The year was 1986: I was a student at Oklahoma State University and lived in a mobile home in Stillwater. I had stayed in town for the summer so I could work and earn money for necessities – beer, smokes, Doritos, etc.- and was headed out to the store to obtain such necessities when I locked myself out of the house.

Being an independent young woman – and this being before the advent of cell phones, I decided to break into my own house. I scanned the yard to see what might aid me in this little adventure and found the following: a garbage can, a box fan and the lawnmower. I piled them into a Tetris-like construct and began the climb. At this juncture, I should point out that I lived in a 1960-something mobile home that had the 3-tier crank windows. So I broke the crank-shaft – easily done, but not exactly safe – and wedged myself into the lower third of the window.

Anyone who has met me knows that I am not a paragon of fitness, nor am I a Vogue waif – so as I wriggled into the window opening, my substantial middle halted my progress. My head, arms and chesticles were inside my kitchen, which I happened to notice was in desperate need of mopping, and my ass and legs were dangling outside the window. Probably looked like those ribbons they put on fans at Wal-Mart! Anyway, in the midst of the panic, I pushed myself off the window sill and broke the glass in the pane. I lost my hold when I heard the glass shatter and my arms went limp. I fell – not unlike the guy from the ABC Wild World of Sports “Agony of Defeat” thing – through the window.

I knew I had ripped my pants because I felt it as I fell. What I didn’t know is that I had ripped a 3 inch long gash in my upper left arm. I had decided to suck it up and walk to a neighbor’s to borrow a phone when I felt something trickle down my arm. I followed the trail of blood to the afore mentioned gash and at the sight of it, I fainted…in the middle of the street…where cars drive! When I came to, a cop was hovering over me with the mistaken impression that I had been assaulted. (I wish) So when I explained what happened, he put me in his cruiser and took me to the hospital, where he stayed with me until my parents could drive from Tulsa. When the ER doc came in, all I remember him saying was, “Oh, God. We’re going to need a surgeon!” I just burst into tears knowing that my arm was about to be amputated! Fortunately, not the case. After 144 stitches and a skin graft, I was able to return to my humble mobile home – complete with broken window and still in need of a good mopping – for a nice long nap.

I might add that about a week later, the cop stopped by to check on me and we ended up dating for a brief time. That was the last time I liked the police.


February 27, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment


Here are a few random thoughts:
1. I wish I lived somewhere else.

2. I am adopted – and I HAVE met members of my natural family, including my birth mother – and choose not to have contact with them.

3. I talk about my daughter way too much.

4. I have never been truly loved by a man.

5. I am not happy in my job.

6. I have felt displaced since losing my job at Holland Hall.

7. I am equally lucky and unlucky.

8. I am extremely jealous of one of my friends.

9. I wish I could provide a better life for my daughter.

10. Nothing made sense until I gave birth.

11. I have a serious crush on someone I used to work with.

12. I am addicted to Q-tips and cannot look at one without wanting to stick it my ear!

13. I sometimes don’t wear underwear.

14. I would love to have free cosmetic surgery.

15. I sometimes cry just thinking about my daughter.

16. I was arrested twice in one year – for the same thing.

17. I wish everyone knew how I REALLY felt about them. EVERYONE!

18. Besides my daughter, I can’t remember the last time I had human physical contact.

19. I miss having a pet.

20. I miss intellectual conversation.

21. I have many regrets…but the biggest one is playing a bad pracitcal joke on an ex-boyfriend.

22. 1996 was the year of 8 jobs.

23. I am a “Mater Hater”. I do not eat tomatoes.

24. I feel guilty every day for almost having an abortion.

25. I really miss my mom.

26. I am not as smart as a lot of people think I am.

27. Instead of having a good cry, I will eat an entire large pizza.

28. I want to quit smoking, but I’m not sure I can do it.

29. I am terrible with bugeting money.

30. I spend almost 2 hours a day in my car.

31. Being a single mother is harder than married mothers will ever know.

32. I have already planned my father’s funeral and he’s still alive.

33. I would rather kiss for hours than have sex. And I would rather laugh for hours than kiss.

34. I am sad that my daughter won’t remember this time in history.

35. I want my daughter to make smart choices, but I don’t think I’m a good role model for her in that arena.

36. I often wish I could go back and start all over again, knowing what mistakes to avoid.

37. I wish I had never fallen in love with gay men.

38. I want a better job, but don’t think I’m worthy of one.

39. I love to make other people laugh.

40. I have 2 tattoos and they are for people in my life who have died.

February 24, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A Responsible Party

I will most likely use the word “responsible” in the following blog, because there seems to be a gross lack of it when it comes to reproduction, and I plan to address the latest phenomenon and uprising surrounding that Nadya Suleman woman, who, if you’ve just crawled out from under a rock, gave birth to octuplets recently. In addition to her 8 tiny babies struggling for life in the hospital, she has six other children already at home, three with special needs. That’s 14, people! Fourteen children all under the age of seven, born to a mother who is not employed and lives with her parents. It makes me physically ill. Honestly, my stomach is clutching right now….

The woman responsible for 14 children has no visible means of support and has openly stated that she plans to raise her children using her student loans. WTF? Where were her parents in all this? Didn’t one or both of them say to her at some point, “Maybe you should give this a little more thought?” Those people are essentially raising the children for Suleman and at some point should have taken measures to stop this from happening. The woman gets money from Social Security Disability for 3 of her kids, as well as worker’s compensation for some porbably bogus back injury from a while back. She gets nearly $800 a month in food stamps and a host of other government assistance. Why are the taxpayers being held responsible for the care of these kids? And don’t get me started on health care! I know the medical expenses for a single child and I cannot begin to imagine what it costs for 6 – now 8 more with numerous afflictions resulting from their premature birth – and, let’s face it, just plain being crowded up for so long!

What I have been asking since this whole thing hit the media is this: What about the physician responsible for implanting the embryos? Why hasn’t s/he been called on to explain the thought process of implanting 8 embryos in an unmarried woman? Why hasn’t s/he been taken to task about the implications of carrying so many babies in a limited amount of space and resourses? Why hasn’t s/he accepted some of the responsibilty in this situation?

I know how hard it is to raise a child alone without unending resources or child support payments. And because I work full time and make marginal money, I do not qualify for any kind of assistance. The only thing I get is WIC and that is really not much in the grand scheme of things. I would never presume that the taxpayers would take on the responsibility of providing for my child – I was responsible for making her, so I am responsbile for taking care of her.

It angers me that this stupid, selfish, irresponsible woman has turned into a media sensation. More ill-gotten gains will come her way via paid interviews, book deals, etc. I can only hope she will spend it responsibly.

February 12, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Keeps on Running

One of my daughter’s favorite things to do is run. She runs everywhere – in the yard, in the house, in the laundry room, she even finds a way to run in the bathtub. So when she is captivated by the wind rushing through her wispy hair and focused on her next destination, she tends not to hear me say, “Come back, please.” She just keeps on running – as if the shushing sound of the wind in her ears completely blocks out any other sound – especially one that shares same frequence as my voice!

I will never figure out what happens inside a child’s mind that leads them to bolt out of our grasp like an ill-behaved dog escaping the yard. The comparison may sound cruel, but there have been times when I thought, “well, she’ll come home when she’s hungry.” (just kidding) The last thing I want to do is start trotting along after her because I’m pretty sure NOBODY wants to see that! I’d look like some drunken rhino who also has an ear infection – not pretty.

Will ever slow down, I wonder? Will she run and run and run until she looks back at life one day and think that it all went by too fast? Oh, no….that would be me.

February 11, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Ear Piercing

I got my ears pierced when I was 10 years old – by a friend of my mom’s, using ice, clothes pins, potatoes and a needle. It was the 70’s – what can I say? Anyway, it was not pleasant AT ALL! And I decided when I had a baby girl that I would not, under any circumstances, get her ears pierced. Primarily, because there are enough holes on the child that I have to take care of, why add 2 more?

Last night’s ear piercing certainly rivaled that experience of freezing my ear lobes and poking holes in them: as I cuddled my daughter, preparing to put her to bed, she began screaming at the top of her lungs and crying. I could not immediately ascertain the source of her fear/frustration/anger/whatever, so I allowed her to stay up a little longer. Maybe she wasn’t tired, I thought. But as we laid down together in my bed – she watching Finding Nemo and me reading a book (that I have a feeling I read before and didn’t like), she was happy as a clam. Every time I glanced her direction, I witness her eyelids battling valiantly against gravity, so I was sure she was ready for bed.

Not so much. Again she commenced to screaming and crying as I attempted to lay her in her bed. I resorted to the bottle and was tossing her Barney doll at her – anything to get her to calm down! But nothing worked. On the fifth – and final – attempt, I simply placed her in her bed, sure that blood was trickling out of my ears, said “good night, I love you,” and walked out the door. For all of 5 minutes, she continued to shriek – then suddenly she succumbed to the fatigue and simple futility of screaming and went to sleep.

While I wish desperately that I could keep her this adorable age, I am anxious for her to speak in realtively complete sentences so she can share with me her concerns and issues. Instead of panic-stricken screaming, she could say, “Mom, I really just want to hang out with you for a while because I haven’t seen you all day.” Or, “When the dog next door barks, it really scares me.” Or, “Isn’t Barney on Letterman tonight?” Whatever. I feel so helpless when I’m faced with kind of thing. When I try to communicate with her, I find myself repeating the same phrase, but speaking louder with each repetition. Then I suddenly realize: she’s not deaf – she’s 21 months old! Then, of course, I feel like an idiot.

February 5, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Time of Your Life

I am continually amazed at how little time I have in the day to do the things I need to do. Things like laundry, vacuuming, playing with the kid, proper personal hygiene and other such things. As the seconds tick by, I wonder what new and amazing feat my daughter will perform for me this evening; I wonder if the other brown sock I’ve spent weeks searching for is really missing; I wonder if I will have time to actually shave my legs tonight, or will I have to stop at the armpits?

Time slips by me and I don’t notice until my daughter is actually saying words or developing sharper motor skills or dressing herself! I always thought I had plenty of time to do the things I wanted to do in life – write the great American novel, tour Europe, host my own talk show, then slip into obscurity in the midst of an absolute scandal….
But I don’t have time…time has me …gripped in its clutches and with each sweep of the hand around the clock, I lose a little more of myself.

I don’t want to lose those moments of quiet comfort when the baby leans her sweet smelling head into my chest and sighs contentedly; those moments of silly laughter emanating from her because I made up a funny face and voice for the diaper I just put on my head; those moments of sheer panic when I wonder what to do make her stop crying and shrieking – and those moments, oh, those sweet moments, whens she says “Mama.” That is without a doubt the best time of my life.

February 4, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Hello world!

For years I have written in journals in an attempt to process my feelings, thoughts and musings. It is only now that I embrace the techonolgy of the 21st century and launch my personal blog.  I am the Pie Baker…I call my daughter “Pie”. You shall meet her in due time, but introductions are foremost.

I am a single mother of a toddler (the aforementioned Pie) and the daughter of an elderly father. I spend the majority of my time working, but I also can occasionally find time to have fun. I have waged a lifelong battle with my weight and I have always come out on the losing side. I have accepted that being fat is just part of who I am. I don’t have to like it, but, to use a tired phrase, “It is what it is…”

Things to expect here include, but are not limited to, sarcasm, adoration, pining, vitriole, humor and some moments of psychotic ramblings. It’s doubtful that they all occur at once, but anything can happen.

Stay tuned…..

February 3, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment