RA Reality

I'm watching the hot air balloons from my bed.  It's Balloon Fiesta time.  I'm flaring. I've been flaring since thursday night.  Fingers, wrists, arms, and my left knee. I woke up friday at about 1:30 am and I immediately wanted to die.  I laid still for four hours in agony before I had the courage to move a muscle.

I had a dream last night. Someone asked me what was on my knee. I looked and said what do you mean? Because it was just my knee.."right there"...the person said.  I looked again puzzled until the person reached over and touched my knee. Um, THAT IS my knee.  Then I woke up.  Not a big deal to others but to me... I looked down and saw my knee for the first time the way other people might see my knee. If they were to see it because honestly, this summer has been all about the layers for me. My thermals never even got put away this year, neither did my sweats.

I don't need to question why this happened. It's been coming on. I just didn't take care of myself. I didn't make myself a priority. I ran from appointment to appointment for other people. I let the news of CDQ bring me to the ground, I lied to myself about the little signs my body was giving me that I was backpedaling and I held it all inside.  I took a day off from school telling everyone I just needed the time to study but the truth was my body couldn't do it. My mind couldn't hold anything.

I took two 800mg ibuprofen and I dragged myself to school yesterday.  8 am- 6:30 pm. Usually, the ibuprofen takes care of my RA pain but I could still feel my wrists and knee. My fibro pain is always there when I'm like this. I sat through 3 tests with fibro fog and I did two labs with arms that shook and stiff fingers. I forced myself to prepare slides and to pinch droppers and gently lay coverslips. I turned small microscope knobs that required more precise hands then my own. I laid out bones that kept falling from my hands. I fought the fatigue I was already feeling before I even took the ibuprofen (which just compounded my need for rest).

At first, I couldn't get a grip (both literally and figuratively). I have Anatomy lab first thing in the morning.  That's where I was laying out the bones. I did the spinal column while my group gossiped about fake nails and I was working the ribs when they stopped and stared at me. I wasn't talking. I had divided up all the ribs and was getting ready to put it together. I don't know if they had said something to me or what happened. I looked at them and I told them I was sick.  There was mention of contagion and I told them I had RA. They still kept going on and on, so I clarified, Rheumatoid Arthritis is NOT contagious but they gathered up all my separated bones. I say my bones because they hadn't touched them to take them out, sort them or do anything... They packed them up and they packed their stuff and they left. Faster then I could turn the page in my book.   I didn't much feel like lifting the totes and taking it all out again, so I packed up my stuff and left too. I held back the tears as I got on the fucking elevator because I can't take the two flights of stairs. Really, in the big scheme of things...this is nothing...it's nothing....but it still hurts. I know even in my drugged up fibro fog state I still had more brain cells working then all three of those girls put together but still... I moved on to the next campus, next class... thinking about the state of things and just how fucked we all are if these are our "nurses of tomorrow"...

Needless to say I didn't do very well on any of my tests yesterday. One was a make up test from the previously missed class. It was me and another girl taking the test. The teacher offered to grade our scantrons on the spot. We were both apprehensive when he ran them through...lots of noise isn't good. lol

We got them back and they were all marked up. The girl asked if we needed to give them back so he could record the score but he said we both got the same score so it didn't matter. I have no idea why but I was so happy I had got any right and that we got the SAME score (how stupid could I be then???). I lifted my claw hand and said "HEY! High five!" and the girl did, gently!!! LOL!  I don't think our teacher was amused. LOL!

Ah, wrote all that this morning, probably had more to say but my hands are worse now. So glad I have an 8 am acupuncture appointment tomorrow. Sweet immediate relief. I know as soon as those needles go in it will be all good.

I'm also going to get over myself. I am going to take up my acupuncturist's offer of coming in and getting needles and basically taking them with me.  I was worried about attention from having needles in me as I went through part of my day but at this moment, in this flare, I couldn't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks.

Tomorrow will be better. I just know.

The words that made me feel better...

The same day I met with the people at the treatment center, I was delivered a punch to the gut when I walked through the door and Hubbins told me that a law office had called for me asking for my step-father.

Huh?

I have had no contact with him whatsoever since the late 90's and how the hell would he get my phone number? It was court ordered that under no circumstances was my phone number to be released to anybody in that family.

Now sit down for this one...

I called the law office back and I asked them how my name was associated with his. They pulled up their records and this mf'er listed me as a relative. 


I was so shocked, I told the woman on the phone that I was not a relative but the step-daughter he molested. I heard a gasp. The woman told me she needed to speak to the attorney and would be right back. When she came back on the line she apologized over and over again and told me they had never encountered such a thing or even heard of such a thing.  I told her I was shocked that he would have the audacity to do that and I had no idea how he had my phone number. She advised me to change my number and told me I was handling the whole thing a lot better that she would.

I told her I was surprised but kind of not considering he's a drug addict and she said "You know, once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit."

People have offered up sympathy which always makes me feel bad. I don't know why, maybe it's the pity part... but her words, they actually touched me. I felt a warmth and just a feeling of validation. I felt this odd sense of peace and I exhaled. The anxiety I felt during the call melted away.

She helped me more than she will ever even know. 

Less Than Human

I don't know if it's just me, or if it's the town I live in or hell, maybe even the color of my skin and the trail of kids behind me and all those stereotypes that go along with that... but just in case I didn't go into it before, the oldest has what is called a failed root canal.

Now I think all of us who adopt get some form of medical assistance until the child reaches 18. My kids get  Medi-Cal if they were ever to live in California. In my state all kids under 18 are covered under Medicaid. So my state picks up the bill for my kids. However, I was pissed to find out that in the event of a failed root canal, no other dentist will touch the tooth because Medicaid won't pay.

So, here the oldest sits with an infection in this failed root canal because they left the tip in there and NO one but the jacked up place I refuse to take her back to will touch her. Except, I found one dentist who was willing to give her antibiotics. She was on them for 10 days and it seems to have done the trick for now.

Usually, it takes months to schedule my kids in. This place seemed to be ok. At least, I thought it was the place but, today came to realize it was the hygienist we had, not the place.  Anyhow, I digress... the nice woman at the counter said she could get the oldest in for a cleaning the day after her antibiotics finished so that they could also check up on her tooth situation. I said "sure!"

Now, I can't remember if I blogged it or not, but I just dropped a chunk of change to get my own teeth cleaned and looked at because my wisdom teeth are impacted. I was not treated anywhere near like they were. Sure, I paid cash... but this place was fabulous. It was a pleasant experience. I chatted with the staff, they admired my wedding rings. It was like visiting old friends and I only had been there that day. The follow up appointment was just as great. Seriously, I've never been treated the way Hubbins and my kids have been treated. Ever.

Fast forward to today, we get a hygienist with a thick accent, the office is overflowing this time with tons of screaming kids. There are only partitions separating stations no closed rooms. I have hearing loss. When it's loud like that, I can't hear the person in front of me and I try to read lips, but this was difficult. I was about to tell the hygienist that when she totally blew me off.  I just thought, "whatever."

She's working on the oldest and I'm thinking "Holy hell! They didn't practically rip my teeth out like that and I hadn't been in 5 years!" Mine was a deep cleaning the first time and the second appointment was a regular cleaning.  I do have to struggle a bit with getting the oldest to take care of her teeth, but there's also the decade of abuse and neglect. She has the worse teeth because by the time I got her most of her permanent teeth were in and the damage was done.  To me, the fact that she had no new cavities was a victory.

By this time, the loud kids in the next area had left and I heard the hygienist tell the oldest it was her fault the cleaning was so rough. This pissed me off.

When she was done the dentist came in and I asked about the failed root canal. I asked if it would be prone to infection because the tip was left in there. He asked me what I meant by "prone". Uh...yeah.  You know, more likely to get infected than if the tip wasn't there? Is this something we should have fixed or was this a fluke? Then he asked me "fluke?" So instead, I asked about braces. She hadn't lost all her teeth. She had like two left and the other dentist suggested that she would need braces once she lost those teeth. I asked if all her permanent teeth were in, he said yes but told me she was fine. I said "really, because the other dentist said she would need braces once the other teeth fell out." He told me Medicaid wouldn't pay for it and that she looked fine.

Hmmmmm.... I don't recall asking who would pay for it. The other dentist had already told me about $4000 is what I should expect to pay at least. When I had spoke to him last about the failed root canal, my point was that the job was done shitty and it should be fixed and she should be able to go some place else and not back to the place that jacked her up. Medicaid should get their money back from the cracker jack I took her to before. (BTW, her godmother told me it was a great place and I took all my kids there once and never again. SS left with bruises on her face and she wasn't even resisting. They were trying to make prebuilt caps fit that just didn't.)

I had it. I had the dentist and the hygienist in there and I said "Look, I'm not happy right now because of something she said to my daughter and what I am hearing now. I have adopted my daughter. My daughter has been through a decade of child abuse and neglect. It is NOT her fault because her parents didn't do what they were supposed to and I'm tired of people like you making assumptions and saying things when you don't know."

I got an "Uh, ok." from the dentist. No apology to my daughter. Nothing. Then the dumb bitch had the audacity to ask me if I wanted to schedule her next appointment.

I said "No thank you." and we walked out. (yes, polite to the end, aren't you all proud. After all I am setting an example for my child.)

Seriously.  I'm not on welfare but even if I was, how the hell are you going to treat the people that make you able to live your life, you know: buy food, clothes and shelter for yourself... how are you going to treat them like shit? I understand that there are some people who take advantage of the system (like the kid's egg donor) but then again that's why the kid's teeth are the way they are...because they DON'T take them to the dentist and don't use the insurance, they just collect the check. Duh.

In my mind, if you have a person in there with their kid, you are probably dealing with a person who is using the system the way it was intended to be used and with these economic times... it's probably not a rare thing. And most certainly in our state, where all kids are covered it shouldn't be rare.

Maybe I do have myself up on a pedestal and maybe I should be "grateful".  But if we want to play a who's better than who by education and income/status... well... I think they'd be surprised.  I don't want to play that game. All I am asking for is to be treated like a human being and the same for my kids. Common courtesy and respect. That's all I am asking.

Is it too much to ask for?

I had a hard day...

Some days, I find it hard to believe this is my life. I guess it's not a bad life. I just hate that the kids donor (that's what I'm going to call that C U Next Tuesday from now on) has had so much control over my life. Even with her not physically here, she's ruined my life in terms of what I wanted out of my life.  My wedding, My home, My car, My own bio kids. It builds up when I start to think of all my life I'm losing because she screwed up her life (queue tiny violins).

I know everybody works hard at life, but that's all I had done.  Hubbins and I were barely starting to make a little savings and home for ourselves so we could do things when all this happened. I had been putting myself through school since I graduated HS and never took a break.  We had both just graduated. I truly hadn't done anything with my life. I walked a straight line in accordance to the law of the land and God's laws. Life was just starting for us. It's so hard. Especially if you could understand the lengths I went to so that I wouldn't end up in the situation I am in. (Not the adopting part, but the million kids and financial issues, etc...) This was their family cycle, not mine.

It doesn't help when I get treated like I'm the piece of trash who made this mess.  I've been trying to get a restraining order served in another state.  I got a temporary one, but today I panicked when I found out AZ wants a $100 deposit and if it goes over they will bill me. I tried to get a waiver, because let's face it. This past couple of weeks my budget has been stretched and it will probably be tight next month do to the addition of two more people. I had to get my grandma setup here. That's not a complaint, it's just the way it is. I know with this restraining order, I only have so much time to get it delivered.  It just so happens that it's also time to fill CDQs $200 prescription that her insurance won't cover and to get our registration on the car renewed, not to mention we got our home tax bill.

Az only serves restraining orders for those in a dating relationship for free. Everyone else must pay. They have a waiver for in state only. I called our clerk's office and the first time I got a really nice woman who was trying to understand why Arizona would do something like that. She thought it was odd. She suggested I call the local sheriff's office and see if it could be faxed and if not call back the clerk's office so that I could talk to someone regarding that in their department because like I said, she didn't think that seemed right.

So I called the sheriff's office and they couldn't help me. So I called back the county clerks office.  I got someone else. I think I know who she is. I think she's the bitch that I had to deal with to file the thing to begin with.  I call her a bitch because she was put out that she had to lift her ass from the seat and go ask a question, since I wasn't a battered woman case.

I told her I was speaking to someone else and she just left it in silence, so I started to tell her what I was trying to do, and that was simply to see if there was any kind of help available to me, should I not be able to either a) pay for the service or b) get it served on time. She cut me off and told me there was nothing they could do. When I told her the other woman said there was probably someone I could speak to about my unique situation, she told me it "wasn't their problem". I told her I was trying to protect my children from their abuser, I told her I had adopted 5 children and that kind of made it hard to do things sometimes. She told me that was my "personal problem". I hung up before I told her to go fuck herself and then I cried out of sheer hatred and anger.  I know some people will think this is wrong but that bitch needs to be slapped around a couple of times. This is the job she chose, maybe she needs to understand some things and since it's obvious she's heartless with a huge and I mean HUGE stick up her ass, maybe she needs to feel what it's like.

I can't help but be pissed that I'd have to be screwing someone and get my ass beat to get my restraining order served for free. I mean really?  I don't doubt that some people need help. But why do people who make bad choices get all the breaks? What about us, the ones who are trying to do the right thing? Why do we get screwed every time?

So, now, I will wait until my payday at the end of the week and hope that will be in time for whatever deadlines there are. I'm angry because this is for the safety of my children and it's like "oh, well. You shouldn't have adopted or got involved. We aren't."

Protect and serve my ass...

Backstabbers

So, I'm pretty sure I have a relative reading here.  I hate to call someone out. But I do have a reader from Tucson, Arizona checking my blog nearly hourly.  If you are a reader who isn't related to me, stop here because none of the rest of this isn't meant for you and I am sorry I keep mentioning this but it is a little strange for the hourly check ins and I hope you understand my concern for my family and don't take offense. IF you are a friend of my relatives, you have no business here either because chances are you are doing more harm then good because you have your head up your ass from listening to the wrong people.

If you are my sister, it's coming bitch....oh believe me the hurt is coming.

On the other hand if you are the backstabbing whore of a relative that I think you are. Why don't you finally do something worth while and back the fuck off. My business is none of yours.  I know you get off on dragging people through the mud...but unfortunately you're going to be the only pig playing in that pen dear aunt. See I have lots of things you don't: a heart and I'm honest, plus I don't have a prison record just for starters.

You've abused me in ways that are unforgivable and now you think you are going to talk about MY kids.  Fuck off bitch.  Seriously.  My kids have a reason for their disorders, they were abused and traumatized. What's your excuse you jealous whore?  I suppose I should thank you though, because of your abuse I am able to understand and help my kids in ways that I couldn't have.  This is helping them to get better in leaps and bounds.  You see, I have a sister who is just like you.  You know which one since you like to talk about shit you don't know.

I chuckled when I heard my grandfather sent me a food box.  Unfortunately, he should have gave it to you. Since I hear you're the one who can't keep a job, a house or  a car...hell....I hear you can't even keep people in your life like a man and your own kid.  Not too shocking though. I prayed for your child the minute I heard you were pregnant. I have to admit, I was surprised you didn't murder this one...I prayed he would be spared from you and your evil heartless ways. I prayed he'd have a chance to become human and feel love.

You don't need to worry about my finances. Believe me, I've made more in my lifetime thus far then you have made in yours and I'm not even half your age.  And guess what else,  I didn't have to steal it from my job or my MOTHER.

You better think very carefully bitch, because all that time you were dragging me around and treating me like shit... well, I was under 8 years old, but as an adult...I remember the things you've done and said. You know.... your dirty little secrets.  They actually have meaning to me now that I understand what you were saying.

I'm sure that man you have now would be interested in knowing your criminal activities. Both past and present.  You might try to step all over my mom and my grandmother, but it won't happen with me. I learned well from you on how to be heartless and uncaring.  I'll tell again, just like I did when I was a kid and guess what else?  Yet, again there won't be a DAMN thing you can do about it.  Back then I was scared of you, throwing me up on that bar, yelling and spitting in my face, smacking me...but now... I know you're just a worthless piece of shit and I know there is a special place in hell for you.

So keep fucking with me, my mother, my grandmother and my family and you'll be packing your bags for prison again....oops...did I say that?

You bet your ass I did!

When Bios Show Up...

So the kid's bio mother showed up at my house.

Sadly, it had truly nothing to do with the children. She wants me.  She wants me to pay for all she has done.  Everything regarding her life and the kids and her bad choices are my fault.

Yeah.

She was outside my house screaming.  Some people drove her here from the state she resides in. I called the police.

You will all love this part. Even with the TPR, even with the closed adoption agreement, even with the offer of supplying birth certificates.... I have no help.

This is what I was told,

These matters change all the time, if she had a court order to see her children, she would be allowed.

Uh, What. The. Fuuuuck???

I guess closed adoption means nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

Bottom line, it's a civil matter and they are just here to keep the peace.

Funny thing, I wanted to press charges for abuse, they told me I couldn't because she had already been charged and convicted and it would be double jeopardy.

So in other words, she has to abuse my kids again and then I can go after her.

My kids are hanging in here. I was able to divert them with music in one of the rooms at the back of the house. They knew something was up but they never saw her or the police. I decided to play it straight with them and tell them the truth. They all had stomach troubles last night and ate twice as much as they normally do. We had an impromptu slumber party and watched episodes of Man V. Food until nearly midnight.


I decided to go the truth route because I figured we needed a plan. What if they had been playing outside? What exactly are they supposed to do if she shows again? So we covered those things. We also talked about how one of their worst nightmares had come true and how they are safe, protected and loved and how everything is still the same.  CDQ actually clung to me for comfort. She has never come to me before like that.  That's a breakthrough right there. I also told them that although I could understand why they felt so afraid, she should also realize that they are not helpless babies anymore.  They are strong kids with voices that count.  I told them when they were little she probably seemed like such a big big person to them but in reality they are probably almost as tall as her now. (She's 4'11")

I wanted them to feel empowered.

As for me, there must be a God because I begged Him for help.  I wanted to kill her and it was a fight between mind and body.  My body was shaking so hard from restraining myself.  I kept telling myself how much the kids and Hubbins needed me. I called my mother and stayed on the phone with her.  If I hadn't, I don't know if I would have stayed inside.

As far as the RA, I've found a way to eliminate inflammation through herbs and supplements and I have been building up my weak muscles, but with the adrenaline that was pumping through me, I don't think it would have mattered. I know that this isn't the answer, but all I can think of is how my kids could finally feel safe if she weren't walking this Earth.

Oh and to the assholes who sold my information for $50, I hope you get your just rewards and it was worth it, because I blame you and once I find out which place it was, there will be trouble.

What I didn't say...

The therapist, let's call her T, asked me what I did for myself. I told her nothing.  But I realize that's not quite true.

I cuss.

I cuss for myself. It's my only outlet.  I liken it to a smoker though. I hate it. It makes me feel stupid and low class. I didn't start cussing in earnest until I was about 27 or so. I believe it coincided with painting Hubbin's entire house by myself and getting it ready for sale. By. myself. I learned I was allergic to  paint... There's more to that story and some day...some day I'm going to tell it all no matter who looks bad in the end.  So like I would imagine a reluctant smoker feels, I am a reluctant (although to hear me you wouldn't know it.) cusser.

Yes, it makes me a hypocrite to my kids, I'm sure,  because I always tell them I wish I would have never started and that I hate it and that I can hear how stupid I sound.  I have tried to stop but it's so frickin' automatic now, I stop in the middle.  I've tried the whole son of a biscuit but I've added a twist that ends up including a cuss word. *sigh*

I guess I get points for creativity.

Anyhow, I'm supposed to start meeting with a therapist of my own. I agreed to it. But I don't want to. I don't want to go back in to my past. It sucked, I survived, the end. Ya know?

I don't want to talk about what happened to me. I don't want to know.  I want to focus on how to manage my stress now.

You see as time goes on, one thing is becoming increasing clear. CDQ is killing me.

Tonight as The Oldest told me how CDQ managed to slip past me and still start crap with her, I literally felt my left thumb and knuckle swell. When I looked down at my hand, I saw the creases in my hand expanded.  My hand literally went into a flare up.  I knew it wasn't like that before because I had just tried to take some pics of the full moon outside and there's no way my hand would have let me hold the camera like that. Plus, it's a taut and painful feeling.

I've noticed that I have jaw pain. I grind my teeth all the time now. My jaw is always set.  After we came back from the therapists, I had large welts on the back of my tongue. I know this because one busted and I was in immediate pain and have been ever since.

I am not a hypochondriac. I've always been a very healthy person. Even growing up, I almost always never caught anything and if I did, I was the very last.

I'm just putting 2 and 2 together and it's pointing to CDQ.

Since I've realized this, I have been trying to minimize her effect on me.  I didn't even know I was letting her get to me so throughly. I mean, I know she was trying me but I didn't know she was succeeding. It feels like a violation because I can't seem to figure out how to control my body's reaction to her.  Tonight I was supposed to do a touching exercise with her. I just can't.

It begs the question, can I feel this way? Our kids are allowed space from us. They are allowed to decide when and where and how. Yes or no. Etc... But what about us parents?  Sometimes I am a single parent because Hubbins can't help. Don't get me wrong, he does the best he can. But he's known for a while that CDQ specifically stresses him out. He's more in tune with his body than I am. I feel like I have to protect him too.

Right now I just feel like my world is turned upside down and I have no control over anything.  I feel like I spend my time chasing other people's ideas of what should be. I feel like other people get to live their lives, make their own choices and decisions and I'm stuck being accountable to everyone.

My work hours were cut but I'm still expected to provide the same services I was doing with eleven additional hours even though those hours are gone. I keep expecting social workers, case workers, etc... to pop in and tell me I am a failure and to take my family from me. It probably is irrational. But I even feel like my own home isn't my own.

Somehow I'll find my ground and I'll be ok. I know I just have to find my voice and stand my ground. I just feel soooo tired.

Calling it like I see it...

I wrote this post on January 6, 2009 and I have seen it get a ton of traffic and wondered why. I just found out today, the original title, an idiom I had used has been used for racist remarks. I had no idea.  In my world the word is a garden tool. *sigh*  So, I'm renaming this post to be what I intended just in case the traffic was coming through because of the political climate of today. After all when I went to search the terms meaning, that's all the crap that came up.  This post was all about me and nothing or nobody else.

Thanks.
~S

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Before the kids came and before Life Goes On..., my blog was called Diary of a Freak Magnet because that's how I felt.

I could be walking down an aisle at Walgreens looking for Vitamin C and have a lady come out of the restroom and tell me that she almost "shit herself" because they took so long to open the door and well um, she even bled. *wide-eyed stare*

Or being locked in my office by a co-worker (who I thought respected me and considered a friend ) who was trying to convince me that he could teach me how to party and that I should have children because of the "quality of person" that I am.

I've had a stalker who used to call my house and play some song with lyrics about "between the sheets" and sit outside my house at night leaving crushed cans of beer out on my curb. I've even had what I believe was the maintenance man come in my apartment, eat my food, move my magnets, and use my toilet with out flushing.

Those are just a few incidences. I've never fit in where ever I have gone. I can't say that I ever tried really hard either and I'm not too shy to call a spade a spade if you know what I mean? Because of my family situation, I tended to stay away from people when I was younger. In Jr High and High school I wasn't really allowed to go anywhere or to talk on the phone. My stepfather was really possessive of me. I stopped trying to make too deep of friendships because I couldn't explain why I wasn't allowed to use the phone or go to their house. Besides by the time I was 16 I was spending a good chunk of my time raising my step sister's kids and taking care of my sisters. Consequently, I knew a lot of people but wasn't really close to anyone.

As an adult now, knowing that I need to setup a support system with my roles as caregiver to my kids and husband, I've tried to reach out but again because of the circumstances that I am in it makes it tough. Other than internet friends, I literally have no one. No family. Nada.

I feel like I am in this limbo. I know I am married and have kids, but I don't feel it. I've wondered if the kids weren't relatives if I would feel like I had kids. Even though my sister is a rotten whore, she's still their mother. It's not a place I am trying to take. I always said I would never have kids and my mother would ask why I said that and I didn't know why, I just would answer "well, none of my own anyway."

Where this leads to is audacity I guess, the audacity of other people. The other day, the home health nurses were out to check hubs sores. They always ask about the kids and if any are biological. I always say we didn't get a chance to have kids. Most often the other person will say "well now you don't need to, you're set and you didn't even have to go through labor" and they will chuckle.

They just assume we don't want to have children of our own or need to. We have plenty. But I do want children of my own and granted I know that I am able to have children but we don't know if Hubs can. I still feel like that has been taken from me. I've always known that if it came to Hubs not being able to have children, I could live with that. But this way, with these circumstances, it's just cruel.

Those who don't know our situation with the kids or even my husband always assume that my husband and I never stop going at it or if they know my husband's condition than I guess they think I never climb off him or something, if you know what I mean? Especially during the span of November- March. In November we have two children of the same age (right now that is 7.) In January, one of the 7 year olds turns 8 and then we have two 8 year olds until February. Then in February when one of the 8 year olds turns 9, we have two 9 year olds until March. It always comes up and I don't know why having 5 children makes so much more of a difference than the typical 4 that I see out there.

I don't know how anyone else would take it, but I find it offensive and I tend to think those people are assholes. Even if it's in jest. But that's my opinion. I just get tired of it. Sometimes it makes me angry because I just want to be normal and I just seem to basically want what other people want. I don't want to be picked out of a crowd, I'm not trying to draw attention to myself or my family circumstances. I'm not special. I'm just trying to be.

Someone should've thought've this beforehand... UPDATED

Someone please explain to me how you (being they) have the whole summer to get your ducks in a row yet we (meaning me) get a phone call at 6 am telling us the first day of school will be delayed 2 hours because the buses are having issues. (this after I just found out they moved the school time to start at 9 am and end at 4 pm.)

All summer to fix the buses yet the morning of the first day of school. "Oopsies, bus isn't running so let's just start school later! See ya!"

Really what kind of message does that send our kids? Or more importantly what does that do to the hundreds of parents (me) who have planned this day ohsocarefully for three months?

My kids don't even ride the bus.

I guess other then the stress of trying to get ahold of the Realtor to reschedule the writing of the offer (which must be written today!) I've been spoiled by the Oldest's school. See, they are having a two hour delay in September. They've already let me know...last week. Plus, because they know what kind of hardship it can be for some parents they are offering free before school care for everyone.

That's what I call cool.



********Ok, so yet another year has gone by where the buses have been vandalized damaged. You would think they would put a guard or some kind of security out no? That's why school is late. But on the other hand it worked out better to meet the realtor because he wanted to touch base with the selling realtor before meeting with us.

On another note, this house thing is driving me up the wall. I don't remember stressing over the purchase of this house or the sale of Hubs house to move out here. I remember relief and happiness. lol Of course, his house sold literally the minute it went on the market. It sold the night before it was to be listed to the first person who saw it. I hope that happens again. lol

Anyway, that's where we are at. It also looks like Hubs and I might be able to go out for some brunch or something before the meeting. *sigh*

I Tried Really Hard

to have a good day yesterday. It was business as usual just taking pictures as I went about my day and completed tasks.

It was going well until the kids BROKE the back door frame. Yeah, the back door frame. How in the hell does one do that? My house is not a cardboard box. It's made of the best materials AND exceeds what most houses are made from. Hubs could give you a run down of the construction. But they broke the door. I lost it a little. When they asked what was for dessert. I laughed. Bad Mom!

C'mon, you know you would've laughed too.

Anyhow, I talked to a lender last night and while she was running my credit, etc... I was waiting for her to call back. Nerve wrecking. I decided, "Hey! Why don't I fix the tub faucet while I wait!?"

Dumb idea. At this point it is around 9 pm. I cut a hole in the kitchen wall to get to the pipes for the bathtub. I thought, "Not to bad, I can patch this easy." as I only cut a whole the size of my arm around so I could reach through and work.

Then I realized, "Hey! There's no water shut off to the tub, I'm going to have to shut off the water to the house."

*FROWN*

Ok, so flashlight and shovel in hand I search and dig in the last place I remember seeing the water cover. Found it in under 5 minutes. Whoo Hoo! The angels sing! It gets buried under sand easily so that was a miracle.

I turn off the water to the house. I install the new faucet and I run back out to turn it on. "Hmmm, the water is running, the faucet must be on." *turning cold water faucet* Nothin'

The cold water will not shut off. Let's just say after midnight, back and forth turning the water on and off that whole time, soaked to the bone and muddy, we came to the conclusion that there was no problem with the installation but a faulty faucet. *insert your favorite (or mine)four letter word here*

So I set my alarm for 5:15 am and I change out of my grungy clothes, remember there is ZERO water to the house, (I have to leave it off because the water will not shut off and there is no shut off inside) I get dressed and plan to just get up grab the faulty faucet and leave and that is what I did.

Thank God there was one faucet left at Home Depot. A lot of people there probably think I am crazy.

I ran home installed it. Woke the oldest up, she took a shower, I took a shower. Realized I had to get back in the dirt to turn on the water full force and cover the water access hole. Decided to fix the oldest breakfast first, only to find there was a bee in my kitchen. I hate those. *Really, insert my favorite four letter word here.* (sidenote, I wish I got paid a nickel for everytime I used it or thought it between yesterday and today. I could totally afford that other house and then some. lol)

So, I am off to drop the oldest off. Still trying to have a good day today. I meet with the lender this afternoon. I have to bring her all my paperwork.

Wish us luck and have a good day yourself ;-)

Apologizing for the length but I needed to get it out there...

I was hoping that we could just leave the end of therapy week on "friendly" terms. But the day before yesterday during all the chaos of no water and no power and Chuck E. Cheese's. There was a brief moment in the therapist's waiting room where I repressed my tears because that bitch wasn't going to get a rise out of me, nor a tear. I wasn't going to give her that satisfaction.

She did the terminating session with SS and she was supposed to do a terminating session with the oldest. Instead she called me in and for an hour she was totally passive aggressive with me the entire time. She verbally attacked me left and right for an hour and spent less than 15 minutes terminating with the oldest.

She said she wanted to talk to me. I went in the room and we sat down, she told me that she felt that *I* had a problem with her. I told her that I likED her and thought she was going to help us but after I started telling her that the kids didn't want to see her anymore she started treating me badly and I wasn't happy about that.

She told me she felt all this happened when I asked for a week off. I told her it had actually happened two weeks before that. The kids came to me after a session and were telling me they didn't feel comfortable with her anymore because she asks weird questions. I don't know how many times I told her who and what but she still thinks it's because of me. I told her that I never promised the kids they would get to do other activities if they didn't have therapy. I told her what I tell them. They have to earn it, they have to do what they are supposed to do and they have to act their age.

She told me that the kids have expressed that they don't want to stop coming to see her. I said really because when I talked to SS today and told her it was her last day with you she pumped her fist in the air and did a dance.

She said "Really, SS?" I said yeah and the only reason I told her about that was because she had already terminated with SS. So I knew she couldn't go after her.

So then she says "Well maybe she thinks if she doesn't come back she is all better." I say whatever. My kids don't like you. She scares them and intimidates them.

She said she didn't understand what I meant by her being mean and wanted an example. So, I told her about the session with the boy where she told me that I was basically only going to be a caregiver because I'm not mother material.

She said she felt that I had misunderstood what she was saying. I sat back because I thought "hmmm, ok." and I listened to her tell me that I am a great manager and that is what the kids need but they also need love and affection. I agreed. But please help me out here because if that's not reiterating that I am not mother material, than what the hell is she really saying...please toss your two cents in. As a mother, how would you feel if that was said to you?

Anyhow, I just nodded my head thinking this was not worth the fight. I guess she wasn't happy with my response because she kept picking. She said "you think that these kids don't have issues." I sat forward and I said " I know these kids have issues." Then she told me that she thinks that I don't think that I'm as bad as I am. I believe it was "I don't think you know that your issues are as bad as they are." I told her I knew that I was messed up. I wasn't projecting my own abuses on my kids. I can recognize some of what they are feeling because I went through some of the same stuff myself. I can see the pain or the fear on their faces and feel what they are going through. She basically said she doubted that I had been through anything near what they had but not in those words.

That seemed to make her happy. But not enough. She said she wanted to talk to me about spanking the children. Now let me tell you before these children, I had never spanked a child in my life. I didn't know what to do anymore and I told her I was going to start spanking she said "Just don't leave any marks." I remember looking at her incredulously and telling her "I'm not going to beat them." After that declaration it was 2 weeks before anyone got spanked in my house. Even then it only lasted about a month and it wasn't a regular occurrence. I'm back to believing spanking doesn't work. Plus, if she had done her job she would have let me know when I first told her. She knew no one had been spanked yet.

She told me that spanking them was abusive. When I spanked the children, I pulled them over my lap and pulled down there pants and gave them a swat. Also, when they were talking back to me and screaming and wouldn't stop I would swat them on the mouth after three warnings and telling them to go to their room. That happened like 4 times total with three different children. I told her I was doing that she didn't say it was bad or not to. Of course, now I know.

I really didn't see how spanking them in that way was abusive or sexually abusive. If she would have said that to me I wouldn't have done it again. For me, when my Aunt spanked me once that way when I was a child it was the most civil I had ever been disciplined in my life. I remember it clearly because I hadn't done anything wrong. My play doh had dried up some and I had read on the jar that I was supposed to add a tiny bit of water to it when that happened. So I was doing that when I got in "trouble".

I've been flung from my hair into a closet because I was the oldest and my sister lost her shoe and I needed to find it because my mom was going to be late for work. My mom routinely smacked me or pulled my hair and threw me around for the sins of my sisters. My step father punched me in the face for no other reason but because I was there. I was plugging in a vacuum and when I turned around he punched me hard in the face. He also punched me on my head several times because he was jealous of the attention my maternal family gave me. That's abuse to me. I did not see a swat as abuse. I do not like to spank and it was always the final straw.

Because of what had happened to me, with my kids, I made extra sure if any of the kids got a spanking that I knew what happened exactly by seeing it with my own eyes, if there was any ambiguity I did not spank and they are all liars so most of the time it was anyone's guess and nothing happened. I also clearly told them three times if they didn't stop they would get a swat and that it was their choice.

At any rate, I figured out that's what she was threatening me about when she said there were things she could report me on but hadn't. I say report away. There hasn't been any spanking in over two months. That's how short-lived that episode was. It makes me angry because I would go in and tell her. There hasn't been any spanking for 2 days, a week, etc... I was proud of them and I told them I didn't like to do it and didn't want to. If she thought it was bad why didn't she tell me, why did she let me do it? So she could have something on me? Because that's what it feels like. She has that smug look on her face. I had to find out from a book that I should have never done that.

She said that she doesn't understand how I could do the therapeutic hold (that she told me and taught me to do by the way) but I wouldn't give my kids affection.

First, my kids get affection--when they want it. I explained to her how I felt about forced affection being a violation and not affection. Plus, I told her I didn't understand what she was saying. She said that I am so willing to discipline my kids but not give them affection and she doesn't understand. I told her that I didn't know that the therapeutic hold was a form of a discipline. She said "really?" sarcastically "well what did you think it was?". I told her I thought it was a way to help protect the child from hurting themself when they were thrashing and tantruming and then a way to try to bond when it was over.

She didn't have anything to say about that and BTW, I don't believe for a minute a therapeutic hold is a form of discipline. We haven't used the hold in a long time either.

She said that she can't believe that I find forcing affection on my children sexually abusive but not spanking them. I told her I didn't think the manner I was spanking them in was abusive. There was no sexual intent or innuendo. Nothing like that ever crossed my mind.

Then she said, still sarcastically, "Well I'm sorry if I snapped at you that day but it upsets me that a mother can't hug her children. I can't wrap my head around that. I hope that you are able to grow and get over your issues and love these children."

I gave up, I just looked her dead in the eye and I told her "I will" I mean there's no point in fighting with the almighty herself (as she thinks she is).

You can ask my kids if they are getting enough love and affection and they will tell you they are. You can ask my kids if they get hugs and affection when they want and they will tell you they do.
She keeps asking them if they are getting enough attention and affection to the point that they are tired of it.

She's blaming me for their RAD symptoms. The lying, the stealing, the tantrums, etc... it's my fault because I'm not giving them enough love and attention. Which is hilarious to me because when I told her that I too wanted to end sessions so I could have more time at home with the kids she told me I was doing all that I could and that I was doing everything right and that there was five of them and only one of me and there would never be enough to go around. So which is it?

Oh but let me tell you, all the kids successes, they aren't because of my work with the kids nor the kids hard work at all. It's all because of her therapy. I don't see how us all sitting around telling on each other while she yawns is therapy and I think she knew it because she told me she stopped working on bonding with us because no bonding could be done when there was so much chaos and trouble going on...does that even make sense? It seems by not working on bonding we are just perpetuating the trouble.

I want to know-- Moms with RAD kids in therapy...have your therapists ever told you to force affection on your children? You know when they are mad at the world and hate you with the fiercest of hates because you breathe? When they are stiff and uncomfortable or when they tell you not to hug them or touch them?

The other thing that happened is that the boy went in for his terminating session today happy and hugging me and stuff and when he came out he wouldn't even look at me and he seemed angry with me. I tried to talk to him but he didn't seem to want anything to do with me which was strange. He loosened up after we went outside of the office and walked around while we waited for CDQ to finish.

At dinner, I reminded Poufy that her last day was tomorrow. I talked to Hubs about how weird the boy was acting and Hubs said it was like she was turning them against us.

That's when CDQ piped in that she was too scared to tell us but a while ago the therapist had asked her if I was a bad person because she (the therapist) told her that she thought I was a bad person. I was going to ask her more about it but Hubs thought she was lying and told her that the therapist would never say I was a bad person. I told Hubs "after she called me in last time I wouldn't be surprised if she did" ( I hadn't talked to Hubs about all that had transpired because I didn't want to say anything with the kids around.)

So that's where we stand going into our last appointment today. I think if she asks to speak to me again I am going to decline because I am tired of biting my tongue and I'm apt to tell her where to go with detailed verbal instructions.

If that's not how a mind#$%^ works...

then please explain to me how it does?

Yesterday I told the therapist I wanted to talk to her about something but not in front of the kids.

I wanted to talk to her about ending therapy because over the last month the kids haven't seemed into it and they seem restless, especially now with the short change in them. I tried to explain to her how I feel like they are reaching out to us and like they just really need us more. Before it was like they hated us and were forced to live with us or something but since the change they want hugs and they want us around and to do things with us.

I've been feeling awful because I feel like I am not home enough. We are not together as a family enough and I can't even get in the appointments that they need or Hubs needs on top of that. I know I've mentioned here that I thought we needed some real bonding time.

When I told the therapist this, she told me that I am with them all the time moreso than someone who works outside the home, but the truth is, I'm not. Yes, we will still have doctors appointments and all those other appointments and I can't explain to her how her 6 hours a week actually take up almost 10 hours, what with driving. It segments up the day to where we are ALL running around.

I tried to keep most of the blame on me because I felt the kids were being honest when they said they liked it at her place because of the toys and snacks but they wanted to do other things with other kids and with us.

I didn't know if it was safe to let the therapist know all that they said. I guess what it boils down to is they feel that she is asking questions of them that she should be asking me and they don't like how she treats them when they tell her they don't know and she tells them they do and they are just saying that as an excuse.

It kinda hit the fan and I hated to do it but I had to put Poufy on the spot yesterday. She went in for her time after I had talked to the therapist and when she came out she looked weird. I asked her what was up and she told me she felt weird but she wouldn't tell me why. I asked her if the therapist had talked to her about not coming back to therapy and she told me no. So, I thought since it was just her and I,I would bring up the subject and see how she really felt. She told me she liked coming to therapy but she wanted to do other things. To me that was telling me she didn't want to be there.

When we were getting ready to leave, the therapist told me that Poufy indicated that she didn't want to stop coming. This puzzled me because I had JUST asked her. I told Poufy she didn't need to be afraid but she did have to tell the truth about what she wanted. Well she told her what she wanted and then some. The therapist seemed flustered and said "Well, they are liars, they lie all the time." I shrugged my shoulders because well, what am I going to do or say.

I'm telling the therapist the truth, why would *I* lie? I'm an adult, don't I make my own decisions?

Anyway, when I was talking to the therapist in the room about stopping therapy she was all over the map with reasons why not and how she wasn't going to take them back and the sacrifice she made by bringing so many on and how she never does that. I wasn't committing to anything because I hadn't spoken to the kids about it. I was just getting hints here and there from them and I wanted to give the therapist a heads up. I actually thought two of the kids did want to continue seeing her. But when I asked them last night none of them want to go back.

At the end of our conversation, she did the weirdest thing, at first I was confused but then I started to get angry. I guess she wasn't happy because I wasn't giving her an answer or something so she decided to threaten me, at least that's how I believe it to be.

She was talking about something that I can't remember exactly because what followed was crazy. She went from saying that she didn't agree with me threatening the kids and that she would never threaten a kid but she went along to support me. This doesn't even make sense. I told her it wasn't a threat, it was truly the end of the rope. Plus, I don't see how she went along with it because it's something that just happened at the dinner table that other night. It wasn't a plan. It was IT. I didn't tell her I was going to do that because I didn't even know I was going to do that.

She said something about being a "pissed off mom" I totally agreed with her it's not what I want to be at all. But then she goes on to say that I would be surprised just how much the kids tell her about what goes on at home. I was about to say I wouldn't because I know they tell everyone everything. That's one of the things they are supposed to work on boundaries and what's appropriate and what's not. But she was talking so quickly I couldn't get that in, she went on to say that her place was a safe place where they could say anything and she wouldn't and hadn't reported it.

I was nodding my head and I stopped there because I was confused by the hadn't part. I mean what was she talking about? I guess I stopped there because she also got this smirk on her face.

I was wondering what exactly because if she feels she needs to report me for cussing, spanking or making them pull weeds to earn money for the things they break than feel free. I mean, isn't that her job to report me if she thinks I am doing something wrong? Isn't that a total threat? Or at least meant to be?

I blew it off because if she wants to report me for the stuff above, then she's got a ton of work ahead of her what with all I see around me. I'm not saying the things I do is right. Cussing is a thing I work on everyday, I confess it as one of my sins and I am not proud of it. I cuss when I hurt myself or get mad and I'm cussing about something not *at* someone or even directly at the kids. I've even talked to the kids about it and told them never to start and that it's not ladylike or intelligent and a bad habit to break. I didn't start until I was in my 20s and I was trying to get my family to hear me. It seemed the only way they knew how to communicate. Unfortunately it stuck as a way to relieve stress, yet it doesn't make me feel better about myself.

Spanking I do not like to do. I haven't spanked anyone in this house for almost two months. It doesn't just hurt the child. It hurts me and probably does more harm to my hand than there bottoms. For some reason the veins or something in my hand burst. It's never happened when I've spanked the kids but I'm always afraid it will. I was just walking through the kitchen the first time it happened. I feel this pressure and than my finger swells and turns purple. I don't know what causes it but I've googled it and apparently it happens to some people.

Them earning back the money (from us) to pay for the things they have broken. I don't see anything wrong with that. I'm not talking about a glass or anything. Pulling weeds from the side of the house to pay for a dishwasher or a faucet or something. C'mon, there aren't enough weeds in the backyard to cover that. You know? When the weeds are gone the debt is paid. I've seen it gives them a sense of accomplishment and even pride. They earned something.

At any rate, I guess I'm stupid because my first inclination was to get up and leave as in that is the final threat that broke the camels back.

The other thing she said about them being liars is that she thought one thing about Poufy and her "drastic weight loss" (it was a freakin' pound!) and then it was all resolved with her condition and than she said they were liars and looked at me like she wasn't sure about the whole family or something. I could be reading into that because of the treatment we were given. She usually gives them crackers and juice and when Poufy started to ask if they were getting any she shook her head, rolled her eyes and cut her off and opened the door and said c'mon. Sent us all on our way, I guess. lol

But still I told her I would speak to the kids because this is really about the kids not me. It's either for their benefit or detriment. Today I go in to tell her what the vote was. See what she throws at me now.

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"?

Why I Went Off On the School Nurses...

Lately I have been dealing A LOT with school nurses.

My kids seem to gravitate towards them instead of coming to us. The therapist says they need to learn to rely on us and not other people.

How do I accomplish that when everyone else feels so sorry for these kids that they kiss their asses. (excuse my language but I am livid).

See, Poufy gets hurt...she scabs over and then she picks it to make it bleed so that she can get a band aid from the school nurse.

This because the school nurse will say "Oh, poor baby, you have an owie, what happened?" and it's all lollipops and rainbows.

But when they come to me or Hubs, it's not like that and it won't be. Yes, maybe when she fell but not in the third week where she has repeatedly ripped the scab off for a princess band aid. At that point it's a lecture about how she is going to regret it when she is all scabbed up and won't want to wear dresses that show her knees and she will hate them...not to mention how she is making herself prone to infection.

The boy, when he needs a dose of kiss ass, he "hits" his head on things in the playground. That way when he goes they tell him "how tough it is to be the baby." He's not the baby. Bella is. Just because she is dead doesn't mean he gets to be lazy and pampered. Do I sound like a bitch? Probably.

But he's 6 and he thinks he can throw his clothes out in the hallway and demand his sisters put them away. Do they (the nurses)know that? No. Do they know that he has issues with maturity and by treating him like he is 2 instead of 6, they are helping him regress. no. Do they realize even a minute of that strokes him enough. no.

But I bet they think I am a bitch.

Last night Hubs was having trouble with his catheter and autonomic dysreflexia AND diaphoresis. This causes spikes in blood pressure which can also lead to stroke. I had plans to work on him today to see if we could figure out what is going on.

Fast forward to this morning. Strawberry Shortcake. I TOLD her to stay away from her brother. I kept catching her there in his room. Now she is sick. I was going to keep her home this morning. But she didn't have a fever and when I asked her she said "I only have a little cough". Against my better judgement, I let her go.

Last year when SS got sick, she didn't even tell me she wasn't feeling well and when the teacher asked her why, She told her I would just send her to school sick anyway. That warranted a call from the teacher, she didn't believe SS thankfully. But what crap ARE they talking out there that people DO believe.

Anyway, I get the call from the school nurse. I go to pick her up. I am pissed. Because the babying starts. "Poor baby is not feeling well, blah blah blah."

I told them what transpired this morning. I told them they (the kids) do it because they are babied and that they need to stop...really. Jaws dropped. I'm sure they were talking about me when I left.

Yes, she is sick. But she is going to be 9. She lied to me. Do I excuse the lie because she is sick? No. This is a huge issue in therapy. Their lack of honesty. All of them.

Oh, I'm leaving the part out about her freaking hacking up a lung in the nurses office. I wish I could record the sound in my house because all you would hear is the clacking of my keyboard. Not a single cough once we left the school. Not. one.

This isn't a case of "oh, I love school so much and MY FRIENDS! I would die if I missed playing with them and so I want to go to school!" Because at her age, I would've expected something like that.

I am just beyond and let me just say BEYOND tired of people thinking they know these kids or letting them slide because of their backgrounds. Yes, they had the worst possible childhood up to a certain point and that is now their past. It will never be completely gone. But STOP...stop! making it their today and their future.

Can't these people understand? They are making things worse.

Don't tell me these are your kids, because they are not.
Don't look at me like you know something, because you don't.

I may look like I'm 12 and you may think you have some experience on me but I can guarantee that I've been through more than you can ever fathom and that's light compared to what the kids have been through, so don't make assumptions.

Do not speak to me like I am ignorant because the children have issues.
Do not undermine me with your useless comments.

Do not parent my children.
Do not cast judgment on me because you...yes, you and you know who you are could not step one foot into my shoe and make it out alive.

You may think I am full of shit and that's fine. But I live it and I know it. I Thank GOD! for the new therapist who has worked with treatment foster youth and is working with the kids and sees what I am going through and understands! Thank God for her because now I know I am not crazy and that I AM doing the right things.

Finally someone who does get it and who is helping.

Thank God for hearing and answering my prayers.

Without the new therapist, I would still be floundering and feeling as if I were doing the wrong things and like I was a meanie. I understand feeling sorry for the kids, that was our first mistake, because they took it and ran with it and used it against us. But I wouldn't tell anyone else how to raise their child(ren) so why do people think they can tell me how?

Helpless

This is going to be a long one and it's not going to be pretty.

Let me start from the beginning. Saturday-- I wasn't feeling well, just really tired. What was supposed to be a cat nap turned into a 3 hour nap.

Hubs had the kids cleaning up the kitchen and he fed them lunch and kept them occupied while I slept on the couch. Yep, I slept through all that. That's how tired I was. I had a dream. It was one of those dreams Kether. A car accident dream. The last time I had these dreams my best friend was killed in a car accident.

We were in a car accident and someone hit us. I know I jumped in my sleep because I felt it and I awoke slightly but did not completely wake up.

I thought today was the last day for the Christmas tree recycle program (I know I still had my tree outside where I dumped it on the 2nd.) I was dreading driving but I was dreading chopping up the tree myself with a handsaw (I've done it for 2 years and it sucks!). As I was coming home, I felt sick and so irrational. I kept seeing a car accident in my mind. They are like flashes. I scolded myself. I thought I was somehow remembering what I used to see when I got those flashes. I even told myself outloud to cut it out because it "wasn't even the same accident".

I told myself I was just sick. When I got home, I didn't even eat dinner because I felt awful.

Flashforward to this morning 12:45 am. I was pondering chore charts and posting when my phone rings. I freaked out because I had put the phone on do not disturb. I had put Hubs in bed about an hour before and when I walked by the machine to get him a glass of water, I saw the cats needed water. So I got the cats water and debated on turning off the do not disturb and decided not to.

I jumped up and answered it. It was my sister that I despise. The kids mother. At first, I thought she was calling about something about the kids. Which she's never done. It was just her tone. She took forever to tell me about the accident. My sister, P (her fiance) and my two nephews (I and E) were in a car accident and were in ER.

She made it sound like P and I were dying. I pulled the phone number out of her and hung up. I called ER. They told me it was late and I told them I was sorry and I was calling from another state. She said she would try to put me through. I was put through to a nurse. Where I got "disconnected".

I tried to call back and got the same lady I started with. She said that T's father just called and that he was rude and said he didn't have a daughter in my state. I told her he doesn't- he's my ex-stepfather. I told her he's an asshole and I am sorry that he was rude to them. She stammered and said what? I told her again. He's an asshole. I'm sorry. She chuckled told me she gathered that from over the phone and put me through to the nurse. The nurse then personally lent my sister his phone.

She seemed in shock. She said they had gone out for baskin robbins and they had a green arrow and a woman slammed into them on her side. She said the tires are off of their suv and that the air bags didn't deploy. An off duty officer saw the whole thing. She said they were all wearing their scapulars.*

They were still there because they were waiting for her results. Everyone else was ok. "I" has a huge lump on his head and she has to wake him up every two hours to make sure he is ok. She was having hip pain and she thought it was from the seat belt.

*breathe*

They are ok.

I am so thankful and angry, I feel helpless and full of rage all at the same time.

I am thankful that they are ok. I am angry because they are stuck at the hospital. My baby sister called the kids mother because now she is the only one with a car. She called her to ask her if she could go pick up T and P and the kids and she told her that "they were just trying to use her." Do you know how hard I could sock a bitch right now? Seriously. I feel like I could put my fist through her skull. Please don't try to preach to me either. I don't mean to offend but really, you have no clue.

I feel helpless because I can't go pick them up. I can't help them at all. I am stuck. All of them are injured in some form and I am here. She's come out to help me when we needed it and all I can do is pray. Which I know is helpful but how are they going to get home? Her purse is in the car. I don't even know if they have the money for a ride home. I couldn't even get money to them in an instant to get a ride home. Who is going to take care of them? Let them sleep? Watch the kids? I feel bad and helpless.

I'm rageful..if you don't like cuss words stop here.

That motherfucking piece of shit loser. Yeah he doesn't have a daughter in this state but he has a girl that he molested and took advantage of in this state who is looking to find out if her SISTER is ok. Mark my words HECTOR RUBIO. YOU WILL PAY for all you have done. You will pay for molesting me. You will pay for the death of Bella. You will pay for the suicide of Cindy. You will pay for the damage you have done to your children and grandchildren. YOU WILL PAY!

I bet it just irks you that I'm the one thing you've touched that hasn't turned to shit. I know it did back in the day. OH how you tried to BREAK me. How you tried to CLAIM me. How you took advantage of my innocence and naivety. How you tried to convince me to allow you to be my FATHER. How you insinuated that you were acting as a FATHER would to me. Does a father pin his "daughter" down and rub all over her? Even when she is BITING him with all her might and screaming for him to GET OFF HER??? Does a "father" kiss his 6 year old daughter so hard that his teeth push her lips apart and she tastes him? DOES HE? Does he sit on her bed while she is sleeping when she's NINETEEN years old? Does he not correct his coworkers when they mistake her for his WIFE? DOES HE?

I don't know how to love huh? I'm cold and heartless, huh? Well FUCK YOU from the bottom of my heart. You're just mad because I wouldn't love you the way you wanted me to. I wouldn't let YOU IN. What you didn't know was that girl you tried so hard to break was already gone and tucked away somewhere where you and no one else could get her. Waiting until she was safe to come out. So you LOSE! She's ALIVE and well and LOVING with all her heart. PROTECTING other kids from PEOPLE LIKE YOU!

You thought you were so smart didn't you? You still think you got away with it don't you HECTOR RUBIO? No court on Earth will punish you the way God the FATHER almighty will.

My FATHER will take care of you and you will get what you so richly deserve HECTOR RUBIO.

I'm done with that topic...moving on...

The scapulars. We are Catholic. I've always had my faith even when the church pushed me away. I'm not entirely inline with the Catholic church but it's what I choose. I've been gently guiding my family (what's left of it.) to try and rediscover their faith. Now that they are older and can understand and make an informed decision.

When T asked me to be E's Godmother I made sure it happened. I made sure that "I" was included as well. My baby sister was supposed to be I's Godmother but she hasn't made her first holy communion or been confirmed.

It was a huge surprise to me when I asked T what she wanted for Christmas and she told me she wanted a complete Pieta book and scapulars for all of them. I got online as soon as she left and started searching. I had found a place but hadn't placed the order yet.

Meanwhile, Wal Mart had a roll back on the storage drawers and ours near our house were out. So I drove to the next town and picked up what I needed. On my way out there was a bad car accident that redirected me.

I am totally directionally challenged. I ended up heading deeper into the other city instead of back towards mine. This led me to a traffic standstill right in front of the only catholic store in both towns. I decided to turn in rather than sit in traffic.

I got her the scapulars she wanted, the pieta book, a book about the meaning of the scapular, a book about the meaning of mass and the catechist of the catholic church. I also picked up mostly the same things for my baby sister and a scapular for my mom.

What I failed to mention was that my sister, her fiance and my baby sister are all going to go to classes so that they can make their first holy communion and confirmations. I'm doing everything I can to encourage them to at least see if it is something they want. I'm really so happy because it's just amazing to see how living your life in your faith can affect others and nudge them to want faith for themselves.

Even Hubs was an atheist when I met him and he changed all on his own. I never even talked to him about it. At least not the beliefs but the religion itself and the people. All I say is do not let people turn you away from God. A lot of time people turn their backs on God because of organized religion. Humans are running the churches. That's all I have to say.

The scapulars are a form of protection for the wearer. It is the Blessed Virgin Mary who protects us as every mother protects their children. Some people think it's a ticket to heaven but it's not. lol

Anyway, I'm glad I've got all that off my chest. I'm glad they are ok. This is probably going to be the longest post ever. Sorry guys.

Sasha and The Terrible, Horrible, Awful No Good Day

I've been sick. I woke up Sunday morning and it sucked. The suckage has only multiplied. I've tried to make the best of it, but well. Did I mention, it sucks?



Today was my baking day but it was also the day for the social worker to visit and for me to finish the aprons because "Oh ship! I thought I had another weekend and week of school!" In the midst of baking all kinds o'crap, I realized a.) I don't like to make things for other people when I am sick, it's kinda gross. I mean, I didn't sneeze in anything or anything like that... but, I dunno, maybe it's just me. b.) "Ship! I already forgot what B was."



Forgetting...that's been happening a lot. I'd like to attribute it to the fact that I couldn't breathe until about 5 am and the alarm went off at 5:30 am. But... it's not just that.



Oh, and have I ever mentioned I've been turning yellow? Because, I have. My skin that is, it's turning yellow. After reading this over at Y's weeks ago, I realized she was also speaking for myself for the past...oh, 13 years.



I googled thyroid and low and behold! It's me...the clincher? Yellow skin and the fact that I've been wanting CHUNKS of Sea Salt. I know it's a very weird craving. Hubs was worried because I was actually pondering whether ice cream salts were edible and I've been trying to break into the sea salt grinder for months.



When he read Y's post, he agreed right off it sounded like me. Spot on. The weird thing about the salt is that it actually makes me feel better. I worry that it's bad for me because somewhere I was told it was bad for me or that salt was bad in general. I don't know what to do because now I am screwed.



No medical insurance. Maybe I should get on a boat to Cuba? Because this has been escalating for over a decade and I used to have the "Cadillac Plan" of health insurance. I've had many diagnoses: Retardation



Doc: "Your face is too round! You're retarded!",



Brain Tumors



Doc: "Your face is too round! You have a brain tumor!";



Too much activity



"You've overloaded yourself, you just need to relax, have fun, PARTY!"



When I started to have heavier menstrual problems and sought the advice of a female parts doctor her diagnosis was



"You're fine, you're just fat (this at 112 lbs)...by the way, your breasts are huge, do you play with them?"



Me: "Uh, no. "

Her: "Well you should."



I thought I had finally found answers when a doctor told me I was anemic. It seemed to fit the bill. Except taking iron really didn't make me feel any better. It made some things worse.



More often lately, I've been telling Hubs that something is wrong with me. Maybe I'm just stupid, but my cat, Scrawnie, my fiercely independent cat that would rather die than be seen with me these last few years (Since she was 4 almost 5 it's just not cool for her to hang around Mom anymore.), has been hanging out close enough to keep an eye on me. She's at the foot of the sofa, sleeping so close to it, she thinks I can't see her. I catch her staring at me sometimes, this might sound weird to some people, but to me, she looks concerned. People with pets will know what I mean.



All this health stuff has had me on the edge. Today, I lost it. I seem to be losing the ability to grip things as well, and yesterday I went in the store to buy bread crumbs only to buy most everything I forgot last time in the store and no bread crumbs. I found just enough in the pantry to make my chicken, only to drop the whole can of bread crumbs on the floor. That was my breaking point.



I'm still having trouble with some of the kids. I'm starting to think it may be that some are Bipolar. It runs on my sister's side of the family so it's in their genes and now from my reading I see that the exact environment that they were in can trigger it as well.



I just keep thinking something has got to give.

The Science of Christmas Lights

I am still working on the Christmas lights. They are about half up. I have the roof done, the streetside done (although I have some bulbs out), and part of the front done.

Can I just say....

ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!

How does that happen? I mean wrapped lengthwise on paper, how does this happen? Plus, can I just say why the hell can't the light people come up with a standard? Three Prong or Two? COME ON ALREADY? Do you know what you are doing to a procrastinating perfectionist who is afraid of success AND failure?

Do you? *EVIL EYE*

Picture this...

Yesterday my alarm didn't go off...at all.

Luckily, my oldest woke me up and I got everyone out the door and to school on time.

My alarm is 13 years old. It's due to be replaced but I kept putting it off. Even though I had already bought a replacement and had the replacement sitting nice and neatly still in the box right next to the old one.

Last night I finally gave up and just set up the new one. I unplugged the old one and set it next to the new one. When I set up the old one I decided I would take an extra half hour of sleep.

This morning, much to my shock. The old one went off. Yep. The unplugged old one went off. I grabbed it and fumbled in the dark, there were no digits or anything on the face. Lovely. I must have hit snooze because 10 minutes later it did the same thing. Finally, I thought I had turned it off. But of course the new alarm went off 10 minutes after that.

I hate alarms. Don't you?

I was talking to Hubs about it when he said "It has a battery."

I said "No it doesn't...I don't put batteries in my alarms."

Then I smiled foolishly. Two summers ago we had blackouts where I live. When the monsoons came, all power went out. I had put a battery in because even though I was consulting, I still had hours I had to be working. I had forgotten.

I sheepishly told Hubs "Oh yeah." then I quickly mentioned a conversation I had with my boss over the same clock years ago.

I used to live in California, land of the rolling blackouts. One morning I woke up to find I had no power. When I got to work, my boss told me I should buy one of those alarm clocks with a battery. I told him I had one, it just didn't have a battery in it. I remember he just shook his head. lol

That' s my story and I am sticking to it. lol