Because...

Because of her...I'm still here, I could never leave her behind. Alone.  Next month we will have 12 years together through thick and thin. We fight like siblings and are family through and through. Last night, she loved me as she licked my hand and looked at me through sad eyes. She doesn't understand either. She purred her little heart out for me.

Because of him, I love. I don't give up. I try harder and even when I want to quit, I keep searching for some other way. My life is his.

Because of them, I try to be a better person. I have grown so much and learned so much from them.

Because of her, I knew what it was to be loved, cared for, and valued.

Because of her, I am guaranteed at least two belly laughs a week.  Her character and personality tickle me.

Because of her, I think even animals can have RAD and can find a way to heal.

Because of them, I know we are safe. They protect us and love us all unconditionally no matter what our flaws are.

Because of them, I am. 

Yard Clean Up and Movie Night

So today the four younger kiddos and I got out and set to work on our yard. It was a mess from winter and from me not really being able to do that kind of stuff in a while.  (The pills are still working. I had some inflammation in my knuckle that was driving me up the wall today but it subsided about half way through the day and it's only a dull pain now.)  I cleared out all the wind blown dust from the tree rings while the kids pulled weeds and picked up trash.  Then I laid down weed fabric over some of the tree rings that were ready and half of our flower bed. 

The kids did well.  I snuck inside and told Hubs that I thought we should order pizza for dinner and have a movie night afterward. He agreed. We didn't tell the kids anything. Hubs ordered the pizza off the net (so they had no clue since they couldn't hear him calling anything in) and I pretended like I was going back outside to water the plants but I took off and picked up the pizzas. While I was gone the oldest gathered plates and everything we needed but made it sound like she was working on cleaning up some things in the kitchen.  So we finally all got to sit down as an entire family and watched Bolt (which I love and bought the week it came out after renting it from Redbox). They loved it too! BE AWESOME!!! 

While we were out, we did a little unschooling on Earth day and the environment and why trees are important. Do you know what other use Fruit trees have? According to the boy, they are for poor people so they won't go hungry. Hmmmm....

It was a nice break.  We talked about trust and responsibility as well. The lines are still blurry to them. They don't understand that these things are constant and not something they decide to try for or do when they want something. 

I'm still secretly planning a little Gotcha Day celebration. Our day was the 16th of April and we did nothing.  They were already having trouble so we treated it like any other day. Do you know how hard it is to get anything by 4 rad kids and a teenager?   

OMG. I just realized...I have a teenager. Wow. 

Oh... and about my post about the 9 year old and the 10 year old. They already know all about periods and what to expect and what they will need to do (I should just buy stock now in feminine products).  Even the 8 year old knows what to do on the surface, we haven't detailed anything with her yet.  Hubbins and I made it perfectly clear that Flo is a bitch natural thing that will happen to all of them. Then we clarified for the boy--except him.  That was a conversation and interesting facial expressions-- the boy's not ours. lol  Bottomline, we don't make a big deal out of it here. It's just part of growing up. 

I just wish the 9 year old wasn't in such a hurry. 

The Past

Some of you can't imagine what has happened to your kids. Neither can I.  You don't know the monsters who did this to them. Why they did this or how.

I don't know why or how but I know who.  Their mother is my sister.  My own mother screwed them up as well as my other two sisters. Their grandfather and cousins screwed them over and so did their father. 

The kids have been taught to hate me and lie to me because that's what everyone else did. They all lied and they all have their guilt and now they are trying to come back to me and expect me to make it all better for them.  

You see... from 1996 until 2005, I called CPS and I was ignored.  Don't anyone try to tell me it is an isolated event or they slipped through the cracks because even here, in a different state. I reported what a child told me about her brothers "doing the job" to her and seeing her little brother eat food from the street DIRECTLY to a social worker. My kids social worker.  This was before the gun shots and the gang activity over there. 

If I understand correctly she is then mandated to file a report by law because she falls under that category.  Instead, she told me to call an intake number.  Sure... the same one that ignored me about all my nieces and my nephews.  Even my step ones? 

I am so naive. I honestly thought my sisters didn't know and my mom was in denial. But they all knew and they were all part of the plot to keep their wrongdoing away from me.  I've talked to them since and they tell me things now. When it's too little, too late.        

"We used to find the kids eating out of trash cans", "we think their father sold them out for drugs"," they used to lock them in the bathroom so they could do their business" and on and on. 

I get so mad. They fucking knew, all of them, all along and they kept me in the dark because they knew I would tell.  I'm the goody, goody.  The stuck up one who thinks she's too good, the stick in the mud. 

Now they want to see the kids. Never. Well, I know I can't say never. The kids will turn 18 and they will look for them. I already know it.  There's nothing I can do. I can't save them. 

My youngest sister...she's trying to turn things around. She's been diagnosed bipolar. I can see parts of her from when she was a kid, before the rape. But I can't trust her.  She messages me pictures of her cat. She even sent me a birthday card.  She has a lot of guilt. She told my mom things that she saw but deep down, she knew my mom would do nothing and that's where her guilt lies.  

She wants to see the kids, but I can't allow that.  I can't let her use the kids to make herself feel better.  Just like I can't let her use me for the same. 

I have so much to teach these kids about their family. No, not brainwashing. But telling them the things to be aware of. Never lend money. Never feel guilty for saying No. Don't let them pressure you. Don't let them hurt you or manipulate you. Basically keep them at a distance like I have. It's the only way and even then it still hurts and it's still very hard. Because no matter how fucked up or shitty they are, you still love them and that's ok.  But in my family, love isn't unconditional...there are all kinds of strings attached. 

I know my kids have been through a lot. I've been through a lot myself and even then nothing like what they have been through. 

Here in front of me, on my desk is a small pair of pink socks. Newborn I would say. They belonged to Bela, My Squishy... the one I couldn't save. I remember her so vividly. Brand new and already she was raw and bleeding down there from a severe diaper rash.  2 weeks old and already screaming and hollering in pain because she was left in December on a curb in her car seat in a wet diaper while her mother chased down her father. 

I took her from her mother and I put A & D on her rash. It calmed her instantly and I wrapped her tightly in her blanket.  I lay her down next to Hubbins and he just rubbed his face against hers as she lay there next to him staring at the ceiling and every where else in the room. I like to think she felt loved, at least that once.  She felt cared for and loved. 

The socks aren't the only reminder. Sure I have her picture, but for some reason, it just isn't the same. It's like that baby isn't her. I have a brand new crib, still in the box in the closet. I called my mom and told her to send me the kids that weren't in school. Hubbins and I weren't doing anything (Hubbins was recovering from surgery and I hadn't started my business yet) and we had a crib, etc... but she said no because their mother wouldn't like it.  I know it probably would have just prolonged the inevitable.  But still. 

Recently, I was having a conversation with a woman I know. Yes she has more years on me and a daughter in college already but she also has two little ones younger than my youngest.  We were talking about private and public school. She wants to homeschool her kids but can't commit to it. So she's trying to talk me out of homeschooling mine. She even offered me her address so I could enroll the kids in a different school by her because it's "better". 

Why she tries to control me, I don't know. Then she started giving me advice on how to raise the kids. I tried to explain that my kids were special needs and then I gave up and let her just talk to hear herself.  She tried to tell me that her husband's side of the family would shock me but I honestly think I have her beat.  But I just let her talk.  No clue.  She's seen my kids and of course they are charming and polite and whatever. She doesn't know them and you know how they put appearances on. 

I'm going through this for a reason. I just need to figure it out.  If I hurt so much, I know my kids must be suffering. But I don't know how to take it away for myself, much less how to help them. So many fears.  So many mistakes. 

Maybe I am not any better than where they've come from. 

It's that time again...

Tomorrow I pick up Girl Scout cookies... All the cases and I bring them home and divide them up. I have to admit...I am a bit worried about having cases and cases of GS cookies in my house. I'm worried that the kids will get into them and steal them and I'll owe my life in Girl Scout cookies. lol

The plan is to get them separated and out ASAP....However, I will still have the cookie booth cookies in my house for another month. A whole month. That's over 400 boxes. Nobody really volunteered last year to have them and the person who did kept them in her garage. I don't want the cookies in a garage.

I don't know, I'll think of something. The ideal situation would be closed cases, but I'm sure we won't have exact numbers.

Tonight is the kick off for ice skating lessons. I have six girls going and it's once a week for the next 4 weeks. Pllllllease don't let anyone get hurt. I hope they have fun though. I'm a little sad that CDQ and Poufy couldn't pull it together to go but what can I do? It was their choice. Although, honestly, the oldest shouldn't be going either. Maybe I'll just make it her birthday present instead of what I was going to get her.

I'm pretty sick of that girl sliding by and getting away with it. She's going to be 13 on Monday and it's high time she stopped dragging her lazy butt around here. I grounded her last week for her grades. She hasn't been turning her work in because she's too busy writing a romance novel. Yeah. I've seen bits of it and I don't know where she's seen or read or heard of some of the stuff that those characters are doing. But let's just say she's not leaving the house until she's 18. I'm not going to be raising her kids too.

I had her clean the kitchen from top to bottom. I also had her clean the laundry room. Little does she know she will be doing the laundry room again tomorrow. I chose those two jobs because I wanted her to know what it's like to clean up and have someone destroy it. It's not the run of the mill, I used the kitchen and it's dirty. My pantry was organized. I know I posted it here somewhere. I even labeled where stuff goes, but she is the QUEEN of LAZY. She had been stacking everything on the floor to the point that no one could even walk in or find anything.

I made her redo all of that and even mop the floors (some people are probably thinking this punishment isn't as harsh as I think it is. lol) Then when she was done, I went in there and set to making a cake and icing and not washing one thing. I left everything out, whatever fell, fell. It was hard not to rinse something out or put things in the sink or put things away... but I did it, I walked out with everything left behind for her to clean up. She didn't say anything. I did it for the rest of the day. We made a big dinner.

But the next day when I was driving her to school. Out of nowhere she blurts out that she thinks she knows how I feel. I asked her what she meant and she said that it sucks because "you clean something up and then everyone ruins it." So she was catching a clue, yet that very day I saw her stacking stuff again at the doorway in the pantry and reminded her that it didn't go there. Even this morning, I walked into the kitchen and saw dirty dishes left behind when she knew full well what she was supposed to do. The kicker to this whole thing is that we bought the biggest dishwasher (Martha) out on the market and she broke it. So now she has to wash by hand. You would think that she would appreciate the dishwasher more now, but no. I haven't been able to find my service contract for it to get it fixed and I guess at this point because of her behavior, I'm not really in any hurry.

Too full for dessert...

Progress! Progress! Progress!

All I am going to say about CDQ and Poufy is that they are making zero effort. Poufy's *still* riding the birthday train and I think it has something to do with CDQ's b-day coming up. The oldest is also going to be celebrating her b-day this month but thankfully, it's just the other two who are passengers...

However, I have to say that everyone was befuddled today when the boy and SS said they were full. I made a very kid friendly dinner. Cheeseburgers and kraft mac'n cheese (which I never make). The boy ate half of his servings and SS ate it all but wanted no seconds. This, my friends is huge!
They each had one of Sheri's shortbread chocolate dipped cookies and SS couldn't finish hers.

Why is this so huge? Because they are H-A-P-P-Y. They didn't need to stuff themselves to feel loved or feel comforted. They are happy within themselves...even if it's just for today and that moment. It's the first time ever since their placement. They were smiling and not upset about being denied thirds or maybe even there not being seconds (happens sometimes). They were laughing and playing with the cats and dancing. It was what I would imagine normal would be for them.

I've been using "Mom" and "Dad" with them more often. I also know that reward systems shouldn't really appeal to them but for these two they seemed to have moved to a level where they need that recognition from us. "Super Kid!", "Great Job!", etc... They just beam. Oh and it's not directly stated to them. I've found when I do that they stare at the floor and they are unresponsive most of the time.

Some examples, a good attitude certificate casually left under a bowl of cereal (breakfast). A tag that says we love them and they did a great job following the rules attached to a cookie(snack). (I know all food related, but(!) the food isn't a reward, it's what they would normally eat and I plan on moving away from the food to other undisclosed locations (hee hee! Yeah, I am having fun with (some of )my kids!). It's all very discreet, like a secret. They don't show the excitement to us, but we can hear them talking to each other. ( I don't stick around when I leave something behind, that way they don't feel like they have to do something or say anything.) I should also note that hugs and the L word are getting thrown around like crazy at bedtime.

It all started with me yelling "Good night! I *might* love you !" and giggling like I needed to be committed. I don't know why I did it, or even said "might" but they ALL thought it was hilarious and yelled out that they loved me. Even the ones who were hating me all day. lol

But of course, if it's not one thing, it is another. I got a letter from the state of California that sent me into fits. The only thing the state of California promised us was AAP (Adoption Assistance Program). They said no matter what it was a guarantee and that we could really count on it. For some of you who have been reading a long time, you will remember when we almost lost our house because of California's promises. We believed them because this is a Federal program.

At any rate, this letter said we may or may not get the assistance next month or any other month and that maybe if we did it would be less than we usually get. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I felt so stupid. The new van, the oldest's tuition... why did I trust them?

Then I thought...wait a minute. This is from the county. AAP is a federal program maybe they aren't talking about us. So, I called. Yes, it's us. At the risk of sounding prejudice, I would have given my right arm to talk to a high school educated English speaker who could understand what I was saying. I could barely understand what the woman was saying and she must not have a clue about how funding works.

I asked her if AAP wasn't a federal program. She said it was, then I asked her where the funds had gone. She doesn't know. She just knows Sacramento said they don't have it. I asked her if the state had misused the funds. She got defensive.

Um, well, what am I to think? The federal government gives the state the money to disburse to the county, if the state doesn't have the money to give to the county and she's not saying the feds didn't give it to them, excuse my french, but where the fuck did the money go?

Ok, so giving the benefit of the doubt, say that the feds only allocated for so much and California had more families than they thought they were going to have on AAP. I asked what the fiscal year for the state was. I might as well have asked her if martians take dumps because she had no idea. I asked that thinking maybe when the fiscal year for the state ended and started over they would have a new budget.

She didn't get this. at. all.

She was saying how the state was a mess and it was the government,etc... I said "Well, there is a lot to fix because of Bush." to which she replied (and this left me speechless) "Well, if things weren't the way they are right now, the Democrats wouldn't have had a chance."

*sound of crickets chirping*

Like I should be fucking thanking my stars for monkey boy or something? Or should I be thinking those pair of "Mavericks" would have been the rightful messiahs? Pluheeze!

At that point, I knew I was wasting my breath. When I regained composure I chuckled. She said "while that's the way I feel." I chuckled some more. She said something more about the stimulus package not working, I sat there thinking and wondering how the hell this woman still had a job, how the hell she held a Master's degree, how the hell she didn't know the process for her position and how the hell she was afforded a vote barely being able to speak the language clear enough to be understood.

She kept babbling nonsense about e-mailing and calling, etc... I just kept saying ok, trying to end the call, knowing I wasn't going to get an intelligent informed answer. Then what made me lose my shit. "Do YOU understand?" she said to me. * I know!*

I fucking understand alright... I'm screwed.

IF this is to happen, I will be given 10 days notice. Which in actuality will be less than that since I have to wait for the letter in the mail. Ten.days.

I sit here thinking, one- I can't work anymore than I already am. I am working 45 hours a week. I can't work out of my home. Two, who the hell am I kidding, there isn't a single job opening in sight. It's been on the news every night.

I've been "working" on somethings for an etsy store. But last night, Hubbins was not doing well. He had me scared. He's back on antibiotics for an infection. Although, one pressure sore has healed, another is very close, the worst one is still not better. It tries and then it regresses.

He had me take out his blood pressure cuff and he was scared. I can't even begin to describe the levels of fear and anxiety that go through me. I feel like I can just die. Then I start to berate myself. How can I think I can do anything but be here? However it's going to sound. I am stuck here. I can't trust anyone else. I will never be able to hold down a job as long as Hubbins is alive. Even with an etsy store, I will only be able to sell inventory and not take on any jobs with deadlines.

I never know when his health will turn. I am so afraid for the next time... I'm afraid I will have to send Hubbins to the hospital alone. I have no help with the kids. Nothing. Some people think that might not be a big deal, but after witnessing Hubs almost be killed by an ICU nurse WHILE I was in the room (the first and last time I fell asleep that whole week), after his wishes were ignored and EVEN his requests to speak to his Doctor who was in hearing distance were denied. It scares me. Hubbins can't get up, can't lift a finger, can't yell. I've been with him when they put him at the end of the hallway, far away from the nurse's station. He can't yell out, he can't press a button, or pick up a phone. How was he supposed to call a nurse?

I know these are just things I have to deal with and hope and pray never happen. But I can't help but live in fear and I can't seem to control that fear anymore. Like the situation it can't be helped or avoided when it comes.

So I sit and wait. Maybe it's naivety. Maybe it's just plain out stupidity.

But I don't think MY President will fail me.

Imposter...

Ok, so I have to admit. I haven't been posting because I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It did, but I'm not going to talk about that right now.

Hubbins and I were so sick over the weekend and the first part of the week. Thankfully it went away.

So, I've been doing a little bit of this...

and a little bit of that...

I call this Hubbins Snuggie. See he can't feel from the shoulders down but he gets cold from the shoulders up and his blankets usually fall in his face and get in his way when he's doing things. So I decided to make this and see how it goes. It looks like a big tube top. LOL He loves it. It stays out of his face and the yarn is so soft, bulky and warm. You can see his eyes are droopy from getting sleepy in it's warmth.

Yesterday was my second cake decorating class but our first actual day of decorating. This is my first cake after getting the book and being unable to contain myself. I played with the tips.

Below is my cake from last night. I had an epiphany last night as I sat there piping away without a care in the world. (Yes, without a care in the world.) Speaking of worlds, I was totally in my own little world. lol I felt like I deserve this. This is good and fun and I deserve it. Driving to the grocery store after. I realized that I might say that I deserve something, even something as small as an ice cream cone, but I don't really believe it. I've never thought it and believed it before. It was such a peaceful happy feeling like I earned it fair and square. After all, it seems that everything I touch turns to poo or something no matter what I do.

Then I started thinking about my kids, is this how they feel? They want something, and they tell themselves they deserve it (and boy do they) but they don't really believe it? If they blame themselves for things that happen is that how they feel? But then again, do they really blame themselves? They are always pointing the finger at each other. BUT, if they didn't blame themselves, why do they "punish" themselves? Lots to sort through.

I haven't finished thinking this thought through but I realized today when I got angry about something (well, let me explain when I get REALLY REALLY angry, I cry and I hate it!) I started slamming my fists down on my legs (no, the children didn't witness it) and in the middle of it, I was thinking "what am I doing?" I realized that I was hitting myself to make myself not cry and to suck it up dammit! But the whole reason I even realized it was because CDQ does it and so does the boy and SS. After that, I also realized that I do things like them. I don't really do it in front of other people, but I have banged my head as hard as I could against the wall, even a brick wall. I still have to process this... but damn....seems like *I* have RAD doesn't it?

At any rate, I am trying to be good to myself. Yesterday, before class, I went and had my hearing checked. I already have some hearing loss, but it's progressed some and I need hearing aids. $2100.00 for both ears. I have a weird form of hearing loss. It's the reverse of what everyone else who has hearing loss typically gets. I can hear women and children's voices- their pitch is fine and I have no problems apparently. But I can't hear men's voices. This amused me to no end. Hubbins is always telling me that he's asked me for something and I'm always telling him "no you didn't". So when the ear guy told me that I couldn't hear men's voice range, I cracked up. He told me that I could tell Hubbins that I'm really not ignoring him and I haven't developed selective hearing. LOL

The other thing that amuses me is, in the past, people have often asked me how I could work in the field I did. It was a typically male dominated field. All those times, I was called a bitch or when it seemed like someone was looking at me expectantly...MAYBE I DIDN'T HEAR THEM. That's why it wasn't so bad. LOL!

Next time, how the state of California may or maynot screw us again...

Keeping it real...

So things have been pretty good around here but I am going to keep it real also. There have been tears from the kids, anger, etc... The difference is they are using their tools.

Yesterday I had several proud moments. CDQ was unhappy that she broke a rule and lost reading privileges for the rest of the day. Usually she would go to her room, forgetting about the intercom and talk some major smack completely blaming us for her breaking a rule and having a consequence. Today we heard this on the intercom..."I am making good choices, I am making good choices..."

A short time later the boy got in trouble for breaking the rules. He lost toy privileges for the rest of the day (By the way, there are warnings that lead up to these privilege losses). He started whining and crying and it was going downhill quickly. Normally I would tell him it was nap time and that he needed to take a nap and he would go into full on meltdown. This time I tried to get him to do some tapping. He was doing it when I left him to help hubs with something and when I came back he was laying on his bed (like less than a minute later I was back). I told him he needed to get up and finish his tapping because it will help him feel better. He got up with attitude and was just standing there. I said fine, you know what? Go ahead and lay down, take your nap. Then he started crying and whining that he wanted to do his tapping , I told him he couldn't. So of course, he was going on and on until I walked away. Then he did his tapping and stopped the meltdown immediately. LOL (*doing the I-got-you-with-your-ODD-dance*)

At dinner, SS shared that she was angry with the boy because she actually got in trouble with him earlier. She was doing what he was doing knowing full well they were breaking the rules but she said she did it because he told her to. Suuuuure... She said instead of hitting him she did this flexing thing with her fingers on both hands and told him her anger was going to him and that it was just invisible. LOL! I thought that was very creative and great that she designed her own outlet.

We changed up the strong sitting today and what we say during tapping. I have them do tapping together. In fact, Sunday I could see CDQ crashing and I decided to let her lead tapping. I don't know if that's good or not but that instantly changed her attitude. So I was happy and so was she and all was right in the world.

They also started their gratitude journals today. I've read Lisa's blog from beginning to end and I am shamelessly taking her techniques and applying them to my kids. (THANKS LISA!)

Since the kids have been doing so well, I have been in a frenzy cleaning my house. Unfortunately, it's still not too noticable because once I clear out one area I bring in more boxes from storage. I'm determined to have everything out of storage by the end of the month so I won't have to pay storage fees.

Things are moving along...I have some post ideas brewing in my head about home and Hubs, etc... But I find myself spending computer time trying to catch up on blog reading rather than blogging. lol There are just too many good blogs out there! My blog reader currently shows 66 blogs and those are only the ones that have new posts or unread posts. Plus, I've been interested in going back to where it all began on some blogs. So if I comment from a week ago or 3 years ago you know why. LOL!

House Update

We finally got the call to sign and close on this house we are currently living in today.

We are supposed to close on the other house on Monday.

I've been reluctant to say anything about the whole stressful situation because I won't believe it until I have the keys in my hot little hand and I am opening the door to the new house without a realtor.

I can't even begin to describe the stress.

It all came to a head last week before I started reading Twilight. I had some Girl Scout issues, old house issues, new house issues, homeschool issues, money issues, behavioral issues and well you get the picture. I think it was just a last straw deal...I was having really bad chest pains that were actually making me cry from the intense pain. Hubs wanted to call an ambulance. But I don't have insurance so I didn't want to create a bigger mess and quite honestly like I told him when he asked me what if something bad was happening like a heart attack or something: "What if I don't want to stop it?"

Before anyone starts thinking I am suicidal. I am not. But I'm not exactly wanting to live forever either. I've been ready to go for a loooooooooooooooong time if you know what I mean. I don't want to be old. Call me vain.

So, I'm hoping a huge weight will be lifted once these papers are signed today.

I was thinking the other day. I still don't consider myself a grown up. I still think of myself as a child playing in a grown-up world. Does anyone else feel like that?

I look at all that I am doing and I find myself saying "who the hell do you think you are?" It could just be from my mother who pretty much told me I couldn't do anything for a long time before she opened her eyes and saw that I could. Or it could be the truth. Who the hell do I think I am?

I dunno. I don't even think. I just do. Maybe that's my problem? People ask me how I do it and I think to myself. I don't. I'm a failure. If only you knew.

But then, every once in a while I start to think, I must be doing it because how else is it getting done? Am I fretting over little things? Then self doubt comes in and I feel like that child playing in an adult world.

Am I the only one who feels this way?

Finally!

Yesterday, I was so proud of the kids (well, except Poufy). They did what they were told and homeschool went on without a hitch. Thankfully.

Poufy is still continuing to be a problem. But the others are definitely straightening out. I hope it's not a honeymoon period over the thoughts of a new house or something and then when it's done everything crashes, you know?

CDQ came up to me last night and hugged me and told me that she wasn't going to be bad anymore, she doesn't want to be. Which I've heard before but the fact that I'm hearing it from the unmedicated CDQ makes it huge to me.

Right now, I can hear The Oldest, CDQ and SS laughing with Hubs in the kitchen. We are making caramel apples.

I am so proud of the boy right now because I had told all the kids if they didn't tantrum they would get dessert (yep, bribery). He had a tantrum earlier and I was worried it would be bad at bedtime. BUT, it wasn't. He saw that there were 10 apples total and 10 caramel apple wrapper thingies and that there would still be at least 5 left. So he put his jammies on, did his business and went straight to bed. Lights out and everything! Homeschool is working! LOL!

I'm chalking it up to his new math skilz. Plus, they all should really know me by now. There will be plenty of caramel apples and apple pies and all that crap I do during this time of the year.

I'm also damn proud of SS. She's the one who had stolen gum and things from her classroom and stuff from here. I grounded her from sweets until next year. Extreme? I was worried it was going to be, but when she came out of catechism with hidden candy that she's not supposed to have (dentist's orders) and lied about it. I had it. Obviously, I haven't done my job in instilling Catholic guilt in these kids. (just kidding, lol)

This child has the worst teeth. She pulls off her caps. I've never had caps so I don't really know but my guess is that it is supposed to be impossible. The dentist told her what she can and can't have and she's been on a full out mission to sneak exactly those things.

But she's doing great with the consequence. Instead of apple pie yesterday, she had peanut butter crackers. Today instead of caramel apples, she had a baked apple. With no complaints. I figure it must be that she's thankful she's getting anything at all at this point. What else could it be?

The Oldest's report card came out on Thursday. 2 C's: Math and Spanish. Math has always been her worst subject but Spanish is what she's been dying to learn. She had a situation with the Spanish teacher and basically decided she was going to be combative towards him. When I explained to her that she would be the only one missing out, she got it, but she's so damn stubborn. I'm just as stubborn, but I didn't screw myself. I have a degree in Computer Programming just because a teacher (Kiss my ass, Mrs. Kemp.) told me I couldn't do it. So, I'm the opposite extreme. lol

I think she'll do better next time because get this...she wants to make honor roll! Why this is a surprise? I had told her all about honors and she was certain that she would never make it so why try? She wants it now. She's so close, she wants it. I guess I forgot to mention the rest of her grades. lol The rest are all A's and B's and what is killing her is that her B's were likethisclose to A's. We'll see what happens. I know she can do it, it's whether she thinks she can.

I'm beginning to wonder if Poufy isn't the sole cause of all the drama. Since she's "contained", things have evened out. Could this one little brat be causing everything? We might be breaking her. Little by little her BS lessens but it's a ton of BS. Everyone is moving forward and having a good time except for her. The other day all the kids were outside playing except for her because she couldn't control herself, I had to cut her outside time off because she was starting to mess with the other kids. At dinner, several of the kids remarked how much better it was outside after she left. My first reflex was to tell them not to say things like that but I thought maybe it's better that she knows the truth. They are tired of her and don't want to be in trouble with her anymore.

I feel bad because she looks so lonely but then she pulls that crap to push you away so fast it's hard--very very very hard to look past it. At this point, I'm just going to see how it plays out unless some other ideas come up.

I am not looking forward to this week. It's going to be up and down with both houses, Hubs final mold fitting (it was supposed to be done this past week but they decided to let him test it this week) and all the rest of the crap. But at least things are getting better and the pee smell is almost cleared completely.

Putting it in black and white

I've updated my profile to reflect the changes in our life. Not much different but still different. I decided to really put it out there.

My kids, all five of them have been diagnosed with Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) , Borderline Personality Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

That's all they've told us for right now. Honestly, we were lucky enough that through this blog a post was left about RAD and I took information in hand to the therapist and they were diagnosed from there. Before that there was truly complete chaos. Not to say that there still isn't.

Many of the symptoms overlap. But I couldn't say that I thought any of these were a wrong diagnosis. They have different levels of each. I've tried everything I can think of but it seems everything conflicts and some things make it worse.

Other times, it works and people, adults, therapists, teachers, those people who have no clue... they frown down on me. They look at me closely and they criticize and judge. They question "How did you come out relatively normal from your own childhood situation?" ," How did you rise above all of that?" Like they think I have some contribution to the children's traumas because after all if my life was crap I've got to pass it on to future generations, right?

I don't tell them what they want to hear. The truth is, I haven't risen above. I deal with it everyday. I think I am an adult with RAD. I can understand their feelings to an extent when they let me in to see it. But still I don't let them in. It's too much. I don't let myself in. I've "risen above" by living in denial and pushing forward and pressing on. I don't deal with my own abuse. I can't deal. I've got Hubs abuse and all five of the kids abuses that I deal with. There's no room for me or mine and I don't want to deal with them anyway. It's the past. I can't change it. I'm still me and I'm still ok and I will be ok.

Most of my stuff is locked tight in a place I can't find, nor do I look for. Sometimes, the kids remind me and I flashback but it's ok. I didn't fail. I'm still a good person. I didn't let those things become a crutch for me. God makes things happen for a reason. I can see the reason is because I needed to be in touch as much as I could with the kids. I needed to be able to share my knowledge to help end the cycle. I can deal with that.

I'm human and I'm a new mom despite how old the children are and I'm going to make mistakes. Tons of them. But they will still never compare to the mistakes my half sister made with these children. I am not her and I refuse to pay for her. We don't even speak. She's everything I am not. My whole family is everything I am not. How?

I've lived alone and raised myself. I did what I thought was right for me and I lived with a mask for all people. There was this poem that described me so perfectly, I loved it and it was the answer. I knew when I was 18 I could be me and until then I crept quietly and led a nonexistence. I made sure no one would notice me so they couldn't get rid of me. I never asked for anything. Never rocked the boat. I had my dreams and my knowledge that I could do whatever I set my mind to. That's all I needed. Just me.

That's the answer. That's all there is to it. I wish people would stop looking for something more, stop questioning my kids and just stop completely.

There are five of them. Not by my choosing. Remember I did not do this. I took this on to keep my family together. These kids are the only family I have. I'm trying my best. I can't be with each of them every second of the day. I don't know why they steal toilet paper or why they lie about whether they blinked their eyes or not. I don't know why they do the things they do. I can't tell you what they are going to do either.

What I can tell you is that I am doing the best I can.

Should I dare to ask?

When will it ever end?

Everything seemed to be going just swimmingly and I was ready to wrap up everything. Sunday was to be my last very very very stressful day of the year or so I thought. Maybe I was looking forward to it too much or maybe I was bragging too loudly or something but it all culminated into one huge panic attack on Sunday between the two first holy communions and taking Hubs to the ER.



Let's back up to last Tuesday night when Hubs was telling me his throat was kinda sore. We didn't think too much about it because I had just changed the tubing on his mouthstick so we kinda chalked it up to that and moved on but then Wednesday he had a dry cough. We wondered if I had left soap on the tubing but I was sure I hadn't and washed it out two more times. I gave him some cough drops and we moved on.



By Thursday, he had thick mucus and he could not cough it up. I was worried. He was coughing all night long...no sleep. I gave him some chest decongestant and made him some chicken with rice soup. Friday was a little more of the same but I tried a new medicine on him and it seemed to do the trick he was good by about noon. Then it started again the hacking and wheezing and being up all night.


But then Saturday it was all sunshine and rainbows not a cough or wheeze or nothin. But come night fall there it was again. It causes him spasms and between the two it's up all night.



Well come Sunday, I was freaking out because as the time got closer to church, he was getting worse and worse. In fact at just the time the kids were getting ready to go he threw up and then in the church he was lightheaded to the point of nearly fainting. The whole hour I just wished it would hurry by.



The girls made their First Holy Communions and we were off to the ER.

Of course, by that time Hubs was feeling better. Actually about the time he was feeling better I was starting to get very painful chest pains on my right side. They got worse as we drove to the ER and by the time we got to the ER I was in full panic attack.

I haven't had one like that since, well since before my friend Karlton died almost 10 years ago. I remember it because that's when I found out that Dads don't do the things that my stepfather was doing to me. I hadn't known until my friend Karlton, a father of 4 and a damn good one, told me the limits.

I hate them, my hands and face go numb, everything goes brighter like an overexposed picture or something and my chest. I feel so much pressure.

But God had sent me an angel to be with me. I still have a post that I want to write about this woman and how great she is and how much she has helped us already but I want to save that for a post of it's own.

After the attack finally passed, we went in and they called Hubs back. They did two x-rays and he was clear. He has a little bit of liquid in his right lung but supposedly it's been there since his last x-rays. They gave him a breathing treatment, prescribed him an inhaler and a z-pack.

I thought that meant we would be ok. But yesterday was the worst. For some reason my head hurt so bad and Hubs was having problems and I was just trying to cope. I couldn't find the vaporub and I just gave up. I felt like I had hit bottom. I keep feeling like I'm some kind of joke for God's amusement. I keep asking for help because it's all too much and it's like he's laughing and shoving me forward trying to make me fall and telling me to suck it up.

So I quit. I quit asking for help. I was just thinking whatever, I'll buy more vaporub, I'll do nothing and I did. Sort of. I picked up one of my Joyce Meyer books and I swear it's like that woman is talking directly to me. (Thanks Karlton!)

She was talking about women and how they are stretched too thin and they have high expectations of themselves and they worry too much and they just have to let it go and give it to God.

Last night, I thought I might end up having to call an ambulance for Hubs, he was having catheter issues and he was dripping sweat. He couldn't breathe and his blood pressure was through the roof. I tried everything and I told him we needed to get him out of the chair to check some other things that might be the cause. As I stood over him trying to help him cough out phlegm so he could breathe before I lifted him I looked over at his bed and there on the footrest was the jar of vaporub.

I asked Hubs if the kids had found it and he said no one had been in the room and the door was shut the whole time. This was true because I had their Communion dresses on my bed and I didn't want the cats to get them.

The vaporub just appeared. I took it as a sign to put it on and gooped him up. He stopped coughing and he could breathe. He actually slept last night for the first time since we left for the Adoption. The room is silent right now as I type. He occasionally wheezes or coughs but nothing like the past few days. Maybe I am jumping the gun, maybe we aren't past anything but I still feel somewhat relieved for now.

This morning I asked the kids. They don't even know what vaporub is.

I. did. not. find. it.

I sat the new box next to the old jar and I stared at it. Holding back the tears I thanked God for hearing me and helping me when I thought all was lost and when I gave up. I don't think we are out of the woods yet but I feel a little stronger everytime I see the vaporub.

Thank you

So Mad Even I Was Surprised

So, things have been going pretty well considering. Of course I am here to talk about the one thing that didn't go well. I hope to blog about the others...someday, probably when the adoption stuff is over and we are back and can breathe.

Anyway, what I am here to blog about is a situation that happened last night. Hubs has been wanting to join something where he can get away from us meet new people. I encouraged him to do so. When a religious group opportunity opened up, I signed him up and took him to the open house. To me, it was a glorified adults boy scout troop or whatever they call it. They touted community service and pushed family, etc... Their hierarchy was reminiscent from my understanding to that of the KKK and I joked about it.

I was slightly concerned about the fact that at the Open House, Hubs kept saying he was thinking about joining to the members that asked and when I came back from taking the kids to the bathroom he was surrounded and already being signed up.

They came out to our house and were very vague about things telling him they would tell him later and claiming they were training someone. Which is true, they were training someone. They wanted financial information, etc... they told Hubs there was this, I guess you would call it initiation ceremony.

So, they called and told him it was on Monday. Monday he tried to get a hold of someone to no avail. That night I get a different call on my cell saying it was Tuesday. Ok. Fine. Tuesday morning we get a call saying it's next week. Hubs tells him about Monday nights call and the guy basically said ok then tonight it is. All three callers said to bring your wife and family.

That's the background.

So last night I dressed Hubs up all spiffy and took him and the kids to his ceremony. Except, I forgot the camera. So we don't live too far and I had enough time to get back. I took off. When I got back the kids were in a separate room. I was told they were being too loud so they shut the door. But then the kids told me that they were told to wait in there. There was an older woman sitting in the room as well.

I asked about Hubs and where he was. It was 3 minutes past the start time of the ceremony. She said they were across the hall. I thanked her for watching the kids as I thought perhaps her husband was at the ceremony as well and that she was helping watch the kids until I got back but she just sat there.

She asked me if I had a camera and I told her I did and that's what I had gone back to get. She said I could go get a picture and to go ahead. She told me they were just across the hall.

So I take out my camera and I go where she said except I am accosted about 3 feet from the door of the room that I was in. The man stood in front of me and with a huge grin on his face told me I wasn't allowed. I thought he was kidding because of his expression and I asked him if he was joking. He grabbed me from my shoulders--as in, put one hand on each of my shoulders, towered over me (as I am only 5 feet) and pushed me backwards until we got to the room I just came from, opened the door and told me I was to wait in there.

By now, I am baffled and quite frankly pissed off that he touched me. I don't like to be touched. I understand English. Anyway, I walk in the room and tell the woman they are telling me that I can't take a picture. She said "really?" I asked her what was going on and she couldn't really answer me but to say that we were in the "Woman's room". I was dumbfounded.

W.T.F?

I asked her what that meant specifically and this is what I was told... the women meet in this room and the men meet across the hall. The women are supposed to make the men coffee and bring them dessert at the end of the meeting and oh...the best part. We roll it in on a tray. Then I assume we go back to the women's room.

I don't think so.

By that time, I was at a loss. I felt like someone had transported me to the twilight zone and good old Rod was going to start in..." 32 year old Sasha was not in Kansas anymore..." and my episode would be the one where they send the liberal feminist back to what would be the equivalent of my own PERSONAL HELL. It was all very black and white and grayish...

The kids were trying to talk to me and I swear it was just noise. blah blah blah blah,BLAH BLAH. I apologized as I couldn't process a word they were saying.

More people started to arrive. I can't say there was a person under 60 in the room. The chauvinism was stifling.

One woman told a story about how a waitress was reprimanded for addressing a table of mixed gender adults as "Hey Guys!" at a local restaurant. My thought was that the restaurant isn't the informal type and that's why she was reprimanded. But a man was quick to interject. "It's because the women at the table thought she was flirting." My eyes bulged. I could hear the theme song of the twilight zone getting louder in my ears. The woman opened her mouth to speak, he bent low to her level as she was sitting and he was standing. He repeated it slowly as if she didn't understand " I tell you it's because the women thought she was flirting." The woman who had been speaking closed her mouth.

Another guy introduced himself to me and I introduced myself to him. He looked around the room and found the only Hispanic guy in the room. "Oh you must be with him." My response was a flat "no". So then he chose the only other person who wasn't white in the room, an Asian man and said "Oh, you are with him." Again I said "no" and offered nothing more. One of the women spoke up and said my husband was in the ceremony.

Then the games began in earnest. Inappropriate things were said and I watched as the men guffawed and the women kept their silence.

I was suffocating in that room.

Finally, someone came out and told me I could go to my husband and take a picture of him with the Grand so and so and yes his title really starts with Grand although it doesn't end with Wizard so I'm not that dense.

I saw Hubs and he was so proud and happy. They had pinned him and given him a rosary. I was torn and I was scared. I immediately asked him "What did you promise them? What did you commit to?" His smile faded. I felt awful but I also felt I needed to protect my family and despite all the religious images they had hanging everywhere...this was not cool and not ok.

I don't know if I embarrassed Hubs because I basically went on a tirade cussing and all out calling them on the mat basically. I told Hubs as much as I could, as quickly as I could about what had transpired. One of their big selling points as soon as they saw Hubs was that if something happened to him they would all be here to take care of his wife and his family. I worried that Hubs might think we needed that and I assured him that "I can take care of myself and I don't need a roomful of dicks to watch over me." Yep, I was THAT mad.

But it's true. I've been taking care of myself by myself for forever. I have no one else in the world I can count on and I never really have.It's always been me and my faith, so if something does happen to Hubs, I'm not saying it won't matter to me but I am saying that I've got it covered. As it is, I've always been the breadwinner so it makes no sense. The thing I might have needed help with, cooking, Hubs has taught me. So he need not worry about us and if that's a fear they were trying to magnify in his mind to get him to join, I am appalled. I digress.

Poor, poor, poor Hubs. I still took the picture of him and the Grand Whatnot. His face. He looks so sad, confused, lost. It all happened so quickly. One minute he's back there ending a celebration and then I storm in.

While I sat in the room listening to the bull and hardly being able to comprehend. My wheels were spinning. I tried to tell myself it wasn't about me, this is a Hubs thing. But as I sat there and stared at the freaky ass picture of the new Pope (I miss John Paul!) who reminds me of what Satan might possibly look like and the founder of the organization, I started to wonder --is THIS what his intentions were when he started this?

The video we saw at the Open House talked about how these ceremonies were great celebrations in the lives of the people who were part of the organization. They talked about family and it's importance and integration.

Yet, if this was an important day of celebration in my husband's life, why were we, his family, forced to sit in the "women's room"? Why weren't we invited to this important event in his life?

Furthermore, if we weren't allowed to attend, what was the secrecy all about? Because as a logical thinker and the subtle hint of being physically escorted back to "the women's room", wasn't I led to conclude that I was not to know anything about what he was doing?

Being a newlywed and remembering vows and our own personal promises to each other as well as what we were told by the church leading up to our marriage, How can they perform this ceremony as an organization of our church and endorse breaking of our wedding vows or causing discord between a married couple? No secrets are no secrets whether you hide behind a religious cloth or not.

Hubs was supposed to sign some documents, the men were eager for me to sign them as they know I am the one who signs for him. I asked him what exactly he was supposed to sign, from what I can gather, it was some sort of nondisclosure agreement. Boy do I know about those.

We left without Hubs signing anything. I felt and still feel so bad. I didn't know how not to make this about me. But the fight for what was right was too important. When we got to the car and everyone was strapped in. I lost it.

I've been through some stuff dealing with men being assholes. I cried when I was 14 and was treated like I was nothing by a man who didn't even have half the intelligence I did even at that age. But I hadn't cried since that day. Even when subsequent men would eventually try to "put me in my place" over the past decades.

But yesterday, my anger was so raw and so on the surface. It all bubbled over. I have been molested, sexually harassed and harangued for choosing to educate myself and work in what was a largely male dominated field. I have been stalked, I have been threatened, intimidated, discriminated and bullied by males. I have no family, no grandmother, no mother, no Aunts,no sisters even really, they chose abusive dick instead. All because I am a thinking and intelligent woman. I know I am a threat because of the title they give me (Bitch) and how hard they work to "put me in my place".

I don't hate and I'm not trying to stereotype all males by any means because on the other side of that spectrum I have been taught by men how I should be treated and what a man really is and means and what I should expect instead of what should be expected of me.

I cried and my vocal cords were raw and I had a panic attack. All because this was done in front of MY children, MY girls. MY son. That's what made it worse. I cried in pure raw rage. How dare they?!?

I tried to compose myself, when we got home and CDQ gave me a hug, I looked down at her little face with her big innocent eyes and I couldn't bare to think what she would have to endure just because she doesn't have something dangling between her legs? What would be done to her to try and break her spirit? I took a walk to the end of our property where I had just that very morning installed a fence all by myself and I started to survey all the things I've done by myself, things that grown men can't do on their own, yet I've pulled it together. I've thought of all my accomplishments beyond the physical and wondered through it all and no matter how hard I tried to prove myself, if when push came to shove...all I was ever going to be was "just a girl"?

Overwhelmed!

Not entirely in a bad way...actually not in a bad way at all.

I mean I just paid almost all the bills. I've discovered that our registration is up and somehow our car insurance has lapsed . I have to admit, we have Triple A and so far it sucks. The rep we had made a total mess of everything. I think he cancelled our stuff and wrote down that we called in and did it. Argh! I have yet to call them and I am dreading it.

Which is odd because I had them for roadside assistance and all that and I loved it. Maps and discounts and all that stuff. Loved.it. Ahhh, too bad.

===================================================================
I called to see if my oldest got into Catholic school today. Still no word, I had to leave a message. For some reason that all makes me tense. It's almost like I am waiting for my own admission letter. lol But I know she needs it (as do the others) badly. The structure they can provide is just priceless and sadly the public school has their hands tied to be able to do anything that these children would really need.

But I am praying that she gets in and gradually someway some how we will get all 5 in, eventually. It's expensive but then when you really look at it, it's not. Does that make sense? I believe it's an education that every child deserves. The levels that they teach at and the accountability. Stuff that I know some of the public school teachers wish they could do but instead are teaching for a test.

I have to keep telling myself to just breathe. That's how important and pivotal I think this decision is going to be in our lives and it's almost like the religious aspects of going to the Catholic School would just be a bonus!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I've started research from the wonderful and totally appreciated advice of MommaOfMany on Reactive Attachment Disorder. Just from going to the Mayo Clinic online I can see that the kids definitely have signs of this both inhibited and disinhibited. I'll have to bring it up to their therapist after a little bit more research but I think this is what they have along with a few other disorders.

In the same vein. I *heart* the new therapist. The old therapist was ok. But I love that we have goals and plans and that the kids know what to expect when they get there. For instance, I guess I'll call my 8 soon to be 9 year old Strawberry Shortcake (SS), SS had her appointment yesterday and she was so excited because she was going to do some drawing and play with the dollhouse. Just the fact that she knew what she was going in to seemed to set her mind at ease. I could tell a lot of the nervousness and jitters were almost completely gone.

I also love that there is actual dialogue between Hubs and I and the therapist. She actually offers solutions and ideas for almost everything that we talk about. Plus, she seems to be trying to diagnose the kids rather than just letting things slide by. I don't know exactly what the other therapist was doing exactly, it seemed like pulling teeth to try to get him to say anything much less commit to anything.

The other thing that interests me, is that the new pediatrician recommended this therapist and when I called her she had only one opening. As of today, she is seeing 3 of the kids. As the weeks have progressed. She had a child who had a change of placement and a child who had surgery so they were transferred or put on hold for now which opened up spaces for our kids. Today we find out if she will have openings for our last two. It seems like we will because she tried to contact the person and their phone number has been disconnected. Divine intervention, perhaps?

This new therapist has helped me to relax a little because I finally feel like we are getting help. Before, I felt like things were just in a continuous downward spiral. I can actually see changes in SS and she's only had 3 sessions. Plus, she gave me a tip and demonstration for the Boy when he has his next tantrum. I just feel like we are accomplishing something.

=================================================================

Lastly for this post because I fear I've already dumped too much of my brain in this post.

Hubs and I have a fertility consultation on the 28th. The day before my 32nd birthday.

This is what overwhelmed me this morning, like the final straw, so to speak. It's not bad...

I expected to call and make an appointment to have a consultation. You know, be presented with procedures that are available to us and what they entail. A discussion on costs, etc...

Uh. No.

There will be discussion, but *I* will be having an ultrasound that day and more than likely there will be labs that day as well.

I'm freaking out a little.

Just because I thought we'd have more time to mull over which procedures and if it's even feasible given our finances (I need another job!) before we jumped into it all. I'm probably the opposite of most people who go there. They probably have been wanting children for years and were ready like yesterday. But I really want to know what the hell is going on before I jump in with both feet and I feel like I have no choice.

Maybe it will be different then what I am now thinking.

It's just right after they asked me my name they asked me my age. When they asked why we were looking into fertility I told them Hubs was a quadriplegic and they sort of skimmed past that. She told me the cost of the first consult and that I would be having an ultrasound that day.

What bugs me is that--well, given that I've never tried to conceive, why are they starting with me? If Hubs isn't producing any sperm, what is the point of checking me? I'd be all for it if we knew that Hubs had viable sperm already because it would be my luck that everyone in my family can look at a man and get pregnant and I couldn't but...why is this falling on me first? I know something to ask the Doc.

*breathe*

Ok, that's it for now. I need a glass a water and to get back to mindlessly cleaning my house.

Even though I am overwhelmed, things are looking up.

Tired (or the day that never ends)

I should be doing other things but I realized I miss reading my blogs. Especially when my little bloglines notifier pops up and tells me I have 846 posts waiting.

But honestly, I feel like I am stuck in the never ending day for about..hmmm-3 WEEKS!

Last night I felt like Cinderella. All day long I was talking about my tackle and I wanted to get it done and out of my living room. Yet I found myself barely starting it last night at nearly 11 pm. As I painted, I thought "Where have my days been going?" I lost the entire day. I was given task after task from each kid and hubs directly right after another with no spare time to myself until I had hubs in bed and his procedure started at around 11 pm.

Then I started to give myself a guilt trip over Sunday. Sunday I took the whole day "off". I stayed on the couch and caught up with Bridezillas and CSI:Miami. Then Hubs and I played Name That Tune: 80s edition until waaaaay too late. It was nice and I realized I hadn't had a break close to that in almost 6 years.

But I still felt guilt.

Yesterday, I moved non-stop. But it looks like nothing has been accomplished. I could write down a list of all that was accomplished though.

This morning I had to be up by 5 am to get my oldest to school for her field trip and it's time to get the kids up and get the day started already. But what do you do when you feel the previous day(s) haven't ended?

Hubs and I have errands to run. After we drop the kids off (did I ever mention that we pick them up and drop them off now, I'll have to check), they have a minimum day so chances are we will be picking them up on the way home. Then it's a way early dinner, Girl Scouts, catechism and finally home.

That seems like such a long time from now. lol

I don't mean to whine and I know when I took on these responsibilities with Hubs and the kids I said I would ask for help when I need it. But I've asked and there is no help to be found. Isn't that ironic?

Alright, enough mindless babbling. I've got kids to get up, a hubby to get in his chair and dinner to put in the crock pot.

Hope your day is a good one!

God Answered Me...

Today was therapy for the kids.

Lately, I've been questioning whether I should go through with the adoption. The kids have been very disrespectful and basically just regressing. I've been asking myself why I am putting myself through this torture because it has been torture most of the time.

Instead of having a "normal" life with a few bumps in the road. It's been nothing but bumps with a few hours of normalcy.

I've been physically hurt with scars to prove it in some cases and I've been totally disrespected as has hubs. My house has been destroyed. I spend my time repairing what they have broken so they can break it again or something else.

Anyway, there is no way to adequately explain what Hubs and I have been through this past year without getting into details that I shouldn't put out on the net.

The oldest has been following her mother's footsteps and it scares me. She's only 11. I brought it up at the session and of course it wasn't well recieved. I've told her that I grew up with her mother and that I see her and I know they aren't the same and I don't understand why she is doing this to herself.

I told her that she has the chance to be 11. She's the first in the family who has a chance to have a childhood even if it starts at 11 and not to waste it.

She had a smile pass her lips and the therapist asked her what the smile was about. She said that she was smiling because she would be the first to be a kid.

I started crying because it means so much. The loss of my childhood, having to become parents for family members my whole life, everything I have lost, everything I have been through. I never understood why the strife, why...me? What I had done to deserve this and to live through this and to be through this after surviving my childhood. But today, as I looked at her smiling and being proud of being the first. I stopped questioning my life choices and losses.

I realized yes, I had lost a lot. But because of that loss...look what I can offer. Look at the chance she is getting...the opportunity because of me and my sacrifices. Another step away from the family cycle. Another chance and opportunity at a real life. At that moment, it was all clear. Despite the pain and agony. Despite the loss of myself and my chance at life...Despite it all. If I can reach just one of the kids and let them know it doesn't have to be the way it always has been. It will be worth it.

Just...Lord give me the strength to take it all. Amen.