I'm still around

So here's my story....lol

I'm still working on the floor. I'm still working on the floor because we decided we had to pull up the baseboards. When we decided we had to pull up the baseboards, we realized we needed new baseboards. I picked new baseboards, turns out the new ones I picked need to be stained. Ok.

Well, hey, since the baseboards are off we should paint because well, you know the baseboards are off and we won't have to worry about lines and stuff and hey since we are going to paint we should take off the ceiling mouldings and the window and door trims and buy the matching trims and stain those too.

Get the picture?

Yesterday I took the kids to the Doctor. Poufy and SS to be exact. Poufy --I think she had a growth spurt because she's almost as tall as CDQ and it looked like all her baby fat fell off her. She's a stick now and she eats like a horse. She eats more than Hubs and I combined! I'm not exaggerating either.

She has her mother's body, no hips, no shape just straight. So what happened is that the therapist saw her and felt she was too skinny. I made the appointment to make sure she was ok. The doctor says he's not worried about her because she's only lost a lb since last November. He doesn't think it's odd. I honestly don't know if it is odd. Is it odd for a child to lose a pound?
But the therapist is persisting. Persisting to the point where she pissed me off. When we were driving home Thursday, the kids told me that the therapist was starting to ask weird questions.

In my house, if you've been having a bad day or just can't deal, we give you the choice to behave and wait for dinner to be ready or to have a peanut butter sandwich for dinner (to prevent any more trouble). If you choose not to behave and choose not to have a peanut butter sandwich, then you choose to go to bed. Because if it's like that there's just no dealing with that child. It gets that bad. The number of times that they have gone to bed without eating can be counted on one hand. Mainly, it's them trying to see if we really would send them to bed.

The number of peanut butter sandwiches would be more. However, they got tired of that really quick and we haven't had to do that in months. Well, if this isn't a leading question, I don't know what is..."You guys have peanut butter sandwiches in your house quite often don't you?" The answer was no but the fact that it was put like that angers me. Why doesn't she ask me? Even so, the kids including Poufy all say she eats A LOT.

I've put everything out there with her. Then she calls my house Friday saying she was calling CYFD and then "Oh is this Sasha?" she dialed my number by mistake. She claims she was calling CYFD to see if they offered respite for me. I told her I wasn't interested. Yet she still called and spoke to our old social worker. That pisses me off too! It makes me want to just call and tell them to pick the kids up. I'm doing the best I can with what I have and what I know.

I don't understand how me saying that if I cannot help the kids I want them to go to someone who can help them. How can I not think that I would be purely selfish to keep them here if they are becoming self destructive and I can't help them. I've done all that I know that I can. The only changes that can be made are by the kids themselves.

I'm not naive to this situation like they want to believe. I may not have biological children but I have raised children. This is not normal for even troubled children and it's not ok. They are out of control.

The therapist said the kids need more attention and hugs. The last session she sort of forced hugs on the kids. I don't know what she thinks. The kids have all our attention and there's five of them so they are never going to be happy with whatever attention we give them. Plus, they aren't lacking hugs. They hugged their previous therapist ALL THE TIME. He had to tell them to slow down.

I have a problem that I'm not sure how to solve and I don't think the therapist would understand. These kids have seen their biological parents fight and argue and then it's all hugs and kisses and making babies. I don't want to reinforce that idea in their mind when they've done something wrong or they've been wronged (because don't you know WE are always wrong) that hugs and kisses are the answer whether something has been resolved or not. Does that make sense? I don't want them to think when someone hurts them as long as they hug them and kiss them that it's all good or if they hurt someone else, if they do that then it's ok. The therapist wants me to do that with them. Maybe for a "normal" child that would work but I'm afraid in this case it would just reinforce what they saw their parents doing.

I'm thinking of dropping therapy with the kids because you know what? She says we have to spend more time as a family and the kids need to be social. Well...maybe if we weren't in therapy three times a week for hours we could actually do things as a family. Kids can join sports or dance or something. You know?

Speaking of family time, we went to the movies today. Our theater has free movies in the summer every week. I couldn't believe how bad it was and how awful people have become. We weren't expecting to be able to sit with the kids but for grown women to be sitting in the handicap section because they have strollers and children when there are handicap people who need the space is just ridiculous.

Squeezing a child out of your twat or having a child cut from you does not grant you special privileges to be a royal bitch. Your stroller does not take precedent over a human. Believe me, if Hubs could be anywhere then stuck in the chair, I'm sure he would surely choose a different seat in the theater.

This bitch did not want to move. She threw a fit and was going to leave and on and on because we needed handicap seating for hubs. I pray that nothing ever happens to her children, husband, or herself. But she needs to feel it.

How can one be so heartless? I understand using the space if no one needing it shows up. But this was a need, not a want. It's amazing to me how awful people can be.