I WON!

Last night I had a Girl Scout Service Meeting to attend. When I got there I was given a raffle ticket and an envelope for my troop. When I opened the envelope there were various items including two Girl Scout Tote Bags. I asked who was supposed to get the tote bags and they told me they were for me. Sweeeet!

As the meeting progressed, they asked if there was anyone who did the troop organization for my other kid's school. (I do the troop organization for The Oldest's school because that's the troop I took over.) They said they had a 4th grader looking for a troop. There was no one there, sooooo I raised my hand and told them that I actually have a 4th grader from that school in my troop (my daughter) and they could add her to mine. Pretty cool. I'm kinda hoping that she ends up in my daughter's fourth grade class as well. SS has a hard time making friends and this could be a built in friend. The other thing is for my Junior troop as far as I know, it was only going to be my oldest two daughters in it. So I was really happy to find an "older" girl who was interested.

As I sat there being pleased with the turn of events. Some things were finally falling into place!Squee!! They started the raffle. There were some t-shirts for adults and children, a water bottle, a teacher's planner, a car license plate frame, and a Girl Scout notebook with a pen attached to it.

I was contemplating what I would choose. I was thinking probably the water bottle or the notebook. When I realized she was saying she was only going to call the last three numbers and had actually called them. It was silent in the room.

It was funny to me because I played back everything in my head slow mo without even thinking that I could win when I realized that I had indeed won! I was so stunned that I sat there and burst out "Hey, that's me!" and stayed sitting there. My astonishment must have been obvious because there was some laughter and finally I got my legs to work and went up there and picked the pen and notebook.

I was and continue to be so happy over this little notebook. I feel like a dork but it just totally made my year that's how happy and shocked I was. I had fun and I won and I got some cool new tote bags for my girl scout stuff.

It's been such a long time, I went to Home Depot after that and I found a bathroom faucet that I believe will work for my house (and had been looking for, for months to no avail). It was like a stroke of luck or something and I just wanted to tell everyone at Home Depot and in the parking lot that I had won this little notebook AND look the faucet that I need is probably here in my hot little hands too!

So, instead I am here telling all of you, with a HUGE smile on my face. lol

It's the little things that make me happy I tell ya! How about you? Has something tiny brought so much happiness in your life? Tell me about it because if it made you as happy as I am about this share it and relive the moment. lol

What Makes A House A Home?

"Children with RAD cannot share a room and heal! It disrupts developing healthy sleep patterns, gives them a target for abuse and/ or keeps them from sleeping soundly due to lack of trust. How soundly would you sleep with someone in your room you don’t trust! (Charles Manson?!) A separate room is not a luxury it is a necessity! - http://www.attachment.org/pages_parents_articles1.php"

We're screwed!

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The above is an e-mail Hubs sent me (why yes, my husband e-mails me from the game room about 30 feet away from our bedroom, it's the only way we can talk privately apparently.) this e-mail quoting this from a website URL I sent him. The red is his own words. lol



This was over a month ago. We've been thinking about moving for a while now since the kids came. We started noticing a lot more about our neighborhood when we started spending more time outside and just being home. I didn't realize how much Hubs and I went out until his surgery. We left a lot less after the kids.

It wasn't until this, that I did lose it. I got mad because I had to have gates around my house and I had to have security grade chains and padlocks on said gates. I was mad that I couldn't just live and that I have to have this false protection and that I never feel safe. I worry that someone is going to shoot at our house instead of the losers across the street and Hubs is going to get shot again.

It didn't matter anymore that Bela's memorial tree is in the front or our present and future trees were in the front. It didn't matter about the trees that Hubs and I first planted, or my rose bushes or all the blood, tears and sweat I put into this place. Not even the acreage mattered. I just wanted out.

So the decision has been made. Tomorrow the neighbor's realtor comes to pick up the cats, yes, I still have them and I just caught a third one this morning. It gave up because it was starving. I will ask her about selling our house. (As I was writing this the Mama cat came to my window and meowed. I sighed got up and opened the door. She walked right in. In a weird twist, she wants nothing to do with her children.)

Today, I went and looked through a house. It is bigger, it's supposed to be better. It's in a gated community in the expensive side of town. It's beautiful. The kids will feel safer and have more room, there's a community pool and community parks with play equipment throughout. It's almost too good to be true. But I still feel kind of empty. This was my home, my heart. I know whatever house we end up in will eventually be our home and I'll feel the same but it's still a little hard to let go.

We've Come A Long Way

As I sit here and click through all the RAD blogs I can get my hands on, each time I read something I can so relate to it's like that feeling you get when you find $20 you didn't know you had on the bottom of your purse or in your pants pocket.

For two years, I've felt hopeless and like a monster at times because I regretted my own family basically. I thought the kids were doing this to me because we were related and I'm a person their mother clearly hated. Then I thought I was just paying for her sins because it's her role that I am filling.

I questioned God big time because didn't he just throw me for a huge loop with Hubs situations and didn't I pay enough for other people's sins? I mean what the hell did I do exactly? That type of thing, but I don't even do that anymore. It's pointless.

Every morning like clockwork in a singsong voice as my husband goes by their rooms "Good Morning Daddy, I loooove you!" from multiple kids.

I'm walking behind Hubs usually or maybe 10 paces or so behind. Nothin'. Like I don't exist. It's been like that from day 1. Unless you count the chimes of "Did you wash clothes last night?", "What's for breakfast?", "Did you remember to buy me __________?", or "I need ____ ASAP".

I don't know why, but I don't take it personal anymore and I'm not even trying to figure out why.

But yesterday as we were crouched around on the floor working on a puzzle, they started talking to me about their baby sister. How they had hopes to play with her and how they had to wait for her to grow up some more and how she never will. They asked me about her footprints and hair and other little memories the hospital nurses had put together for them before they took Bela off the respirator.

I told them their mother had all of that and they told me they wanted to have it. I told them that the oldest had already asked me to ask because she wants to keep them all together and that I had but they won't give it to me.

There was anger and I realized they aren't calling their biological mother "Mom" any more, but they are calling her Jo.

When they first came, I had no idea how extensive the abuse and trauma was. I didn't agree with the foster parents telling the children to call them Mom and Dad and to call my sister Mama Jo. I thought it was wrong.

Of course, my background is that my grandparents raised me for a chunk of my life when I was their age and they had me call them Mom and Dad and I could see how it hurt my mom and I would call her Mommy. But even as simple as it might seem. It was very confusing for me.

This time I didn't correct them. They said they hated her and I said nothing. I sat there and at first I wondered if by not saying anything this would backfire in the long run. Jo is bent on telling the kids if she ever sees them again that I took them away and that I turned them against her.

I've never told them anything to make them dislike her. I've only spoken the truth with no ulterior motives. I know what it's like to be told my mom is evil and a snake and that she doesn't love me. Almost 15 years later, I don't speak to my grandparents to this day. It never ends well.

But I don't want to tell them how to feel and I don't want to stop them from getting their feelings out. Right now, I hate my own mother and if someone were to tell me I shouldn't I don't think I'd like them either because what do they know about my relationship with my mother, you know?

I don't know if silence was the best thing or what but *sigh* I don't know what would've been best. I'm trying to tell myself not to worry about it, but there are 5 of them and it will come up again.

Why I should have just stayed in bed...

First, I just have to say as I got ready to write this post, the boy came and asked if he could give me a hug goodnight. He nestled into my side and stayed there for a few moments...so hmph! When he's ready is what's right for him.

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Today I had to go to a four hour sexual misconduct workshop. It's part of my requirements for volunteering (Girl Scouts) at the Catholic School.

I wasn't sure what to expect. I guess I just thought we were going to talk about what we shouldn't do or say around the children. I was confused at the length of it and somewhere deep down I must've thought something because as I was going out the door I told Hubs I was nervous.

Hubs: Why?

Me: I dunno, just seems really long.

Anyway, as I got closer to the Church my stomach started hurting. I'm over the Chuck E. Cheese sickness, so I didn't know what to think.

As nerdy as I am, I sat in the first seat in the front row. So I sat in front of the presenter. Shortly after a male came and sat next to me. I was uncomfortable. The seats were too close. (If you think it's weird why I am talking about this, it will make sense in a minute.) I moved my chair away but it still didn't feel far enough. His arm still brushed against mine and made me recoil. My stomach muscles were tense from holding myself stiffly. I moved my chair again.

Still not enough, but at this point I am telling myself I am being ridiculous.

The presentation starts and we go over the charter of the archdiocese on these workshops, etc.. etc.. but then we start to get in to detailed definitions of sexual matters and assaults. I was dying for the break to come, it was too much. I sat there fighting off tears, telling myself I was being stupid for this reaction because I don't even know really what happened to me. I can't remember much before the age of 11.

The break came and I thought to myself. I can do this! It's dumb, I'll get past it, I'm just being dumb. I had noticed the presenter (a therapist and social worker) looking at me through the presentation and through some of the break. She told me I could go get a drink and cookies, but I declined. I wondered if I was being weird and then I realized. YES! I am being weird. I have my pencil in a vice grip with both hands. I'm sitting stiff as a bored and I am fighting off tears.

I looked again at the materials. Signs to look for when it comes to abuse. As I read through them, I was mentally checking most of the list off in my head. It was becoming harder to control myself. I tried looking out the window, I tried going somewhere else in my mind. I did, I went back to the hospital with that sickening chocolate flavor seeping through my mouth and throat. Waking up to my mother's face telling me to tell them I did it to myself. I didn't know what she was talking about but I saw she was serious.

The next thing I know, there's a police officer talking to me about chosing the chocolate flavor and how he likes chocolate too. He asked me about the object that was found inside of me. I remember being confused because I didn't even know that anyone was going inside of me much less that there was something inside of me. He asked me if I did it and I remembered what my mom said and I told him I did it.

But I didn't.

I came back from where ever my thoughts were to the church and my tears were getting much harder to control. Then I realized I had the words...was this what dissociation was? Did I just do that?

I could hear the woman holding a conversation with a man about New York and I waited except the longer I waited the harder it was for me to keep it in. Fear started taking over me. What was going to happen? Was it going to be like the first time I realized that I had been sexually abused?

I thought I was going to bust and I did.

I went and stood behind the man waiting for him to finish. He walked away quickly and I tried to take a deep breath but instead it came out all jumbled and soblike:

"idontthinkicandothis"

The lady didn't really seem surprised. She tried to calm me down because there were people around talking, laughing and eating cookies. She wanted to keep the attention off of me thankfully.

She stood really close to me and I told her I read ahead on the papers and that I needed to know how much she was going to cover and how deep. She told me she basically skimmed over those parts , lightly touching on the abused adult behaviors then moved onto the procedures of reporting basically.

She also asked me what I was attending the workshop for and told me if I couldn't go through with it to fill out my certificate and if I could my survey form and I could slip out. She reassured me no one would notice because people were getting up and down and milling around while she talked.

She gave me her number and asked me to call her. She said I might feel better talking to someone because it's like a scab that had been picked off and the wound was still there.

I sat down and basically told myself I was going to do this. I was going to sit through this and finish my class. But as the session wore on my silent tears kept dripping from my face onto my shirt and handout. I decided at certain times to just tune out but tuning out didn't seem to be better because it kept bringing back bad memories. Thoughts of why with all the signs, no one helped me.

I made it through the end of the class and I told the lady I would give her a call and I will. But in the back of my mind I worry this will never be over. Some how the scab will continue to be yanked off and the wound will reopen over and over again.

When I got to my van, I cried. After awhile, I thought it was ok to call Hubs but as soon as I heard his voice I broke down again and I hated it because I didn't want to worry him and it was all so stupid.

I grabbed a bite to eat and decided to stop and get the last of the kids clothes and supplies before I went home. I got some good deals and was feeling a little more centered. I was glad to be home. As I drove in through the gates, I noticed one of the dogs was standing in my path that I normally take and I decided to go around the trees instead of trying to make the dog move. That was my mistake.

This is what happened.

I was still so numb and so drained that my anger at myself was just too much work. Then I came inside and realized all hell had broken loose well I was gone.

The kids ran wild. Hubs can't seem to control them and I don't know why. I try to bring it up but he gets upset because a lot of it focuses on him being on the computer or distracted by reading a book or something. He doesn't seem to believe that he needs to be on them constantly. He takes my questioning as criticism. I'm not and I tell him that.

I'm trying to figure out what makes the kids think they are "free and 21" while I am gone. I'll admit to be agitated because I feel like I can't do it all. Before I leave, I give him a rundown of who does what and what he can do with them if he feels like it. I know it doesn't make sense to him because he does spend the majority of the time with the kids.

But for some reason, my presence makes a difference and leaving makes me feel like I have to start all over and put them back on task from square one when I get home. But if I don't leave and get stuff done, who will?

It just sucks.

Blog the Recession

Kristin at Motherhood Uncensored (please note: Kristin’s site is great - but uncensored) has started Blog the Recession to encourage readers to help increase bloggers’ page views this month, I knew I had to jump in and spread the word. Cause hey - we can all use some help these days!
Kristin explains:
“The premise is simple. If you read blogs, then for the month of August, make the “pledge” to click through from your feed reader. No obligation to leave a hilarious comment or send a long stalkerish email (although both, within reason, are always lovely). Just click through to the blog (not on ads unless you are so led) and if you’re feeling generous, click around to their older posts.
Just those extra page views can make a big difference for bloggers who could really use the help…”

Sounds like a great plan to me. Count me in!

Thanks Kristin for the great idea!

I am so going to figure out how to get my hands on one of these...

The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Collector's Edition

I haven't read the spoiler so PLEEEASE don't say anything. lol

Also, if you haven't seen the trailers for Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, check it out.

It's over...

Today was a busy one. It started out bright and early (5:45 am to be exact). The oldest had her orientation at school. I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed but I was starting to get antsy when people were asking the Stoooopidest questions (yeah stupid like that). I mean, it was supposed to be an hour long orientation but because some of the parents weren't getting it, our kids got back before the parent orientation was over.

An example question, "What side of the car will my child get in when I pick her up?" Uh Duh...the only side of the car that would face the school is the passenger side. Can't we figure that one out for ourselves. Especially when said child is in 6th grade?

Anyhow, still very excited for the oldest to be going to school there. I wish I could send CDQ there too...well actually I wish I could send them all there.

Next on the list was the dietician for Hubs. How embarrassing. Typically I do NOT buy Cheetos. But I did this time. Plus, typically Hubs and I don't do the hot dog thing even though they are beef. It's just not our thing, but we did the day before yesterday. The worst thing of all is there was an Oreo sale and I bought the fudge and regular kind. I haven't had an Oreo in over 4 years. I haven't bought them either. It was an impulse sale purchase. The embarrassment comes in when you explain to the dietician that the previous days meal consisted of Hot Dogs, Cheetos and Oreo cookies. *blush* I sheepishly explained the power outage and how it took out our water and yeah I can still hear how lame it sounds...

Moving on...we had to run to therapy next. By this point we were starving because we ran out forgetting snacks and we were going to stop but the appointment with the dietician ran over. So straight to therapy.

Before I tell that story, I can't even begin to tell you how relaxed my family was as soon as we walked past her doorway on the way out. I was still wound up from what I strongly consider an interrogation. But my kids were happy and "light". I actually enjoyed them for the first time in a looong time.

Myself and SS got called into the office in the middle of Poufy's interrogation terminating session. I don't know what she (the therapist) expected but she clearly didn't get what she wanted.

She started by putting SS on the spot. SS had talked about her terminating session at dinner the previous day. I think Poufy had asked her what it was like. Anyway, Poufy went in there and told the therapist everything she wanted to hear (like I'm supposed to believe the therapist didn't question her).

At dinner SS had said that the session felt weird to her because the therapist asked her weird questions like how she felt about not coming back, etc... The therapist questioned her in front of me. She asked her what weird questions...she kept pressing SS and I touched SS's shoulder and told her it was ok. So she told her she thought that asking her how she felt about leaving was a weird question. The therapist basically belittled her for feeling that in her gestures and tone.

I told her that my kids were uncomfortable around her and felt she was intimidating. Some were even scared of her. She said she never felt that and I told her to look at SS because I can tell she's terrified, she said "Oh yeah, because she's been put on the spot." That's when I jumped in and said that's what they don't like. They don't like the way you say things to them when they don't have answers for you. She doesn't feel comfortable telling you things because she doesn't want to hurt your feelings. She asked SS if that was the case and she nodded it was. So she basically blew it off and said she may or may not have asked the questions that my kids were saying she did. And of course when I said what Poufy had told us, Poufy acted like she had no clue. It was obvious Poufy was lying.

So she turned her claws on me. She told me the other things Poufy said was that when SS had mentioned that she was told by the therapist that she could come back and all she had to do was ask me that I had said that if she went back to therapy with anyone I wouldn't let her go in alone. I confirmed that I had said that. She seemed put off by it. I think she thinks I have a problem with my kids and what they say or that I'm hiding something because she thinks she's slick when she looks at me like I've done something wrong and tells me "You'd be surprised just how much adult conversations they talk about in here."

Uh, actually, no... what surprises me is that I didn't talk to the children about some of the things she is saying they said and like it's 3:16 am right now...this is typically when Hubs and I talk to each other...or at least after 1 am, so which kids are still awake? That's my surprise. Not that they are parrots but that they are still awake at this hour. Because that right there would explain some of the grumpiness during the day.

But I told her I was talking to another mom (she doesn't need to know I blog) and that mom said she would not allow her child to see the therapist alone. She asked me why not and I said I didn't ask why she wouldn't allow it. But I told her for me there's been too much he said/she said without clarification and I want to know exactly what is going on. I also told her that certain kids have said things to me about what she's said and that I didn't feel comfortable enough to tell her who or what because they are afraid of her. (Lord knows I didn't want her to try and line all my kids up). Plus, I didn't even know it was an option for me to be in the room all the time.

I also told her that I started teaching my kids to speak up if they are uncomfortable with something and that they can leave the room when something doesn't feel right, not just for therapy but for whenever. School, etc...

That's why I encouraged SS to speak her mind. Honestly, I was angry the therapist called her in like that and put her on the spot. SS was punching her own arm and fidgety. How could that woman miss that? But because I know my girl is strong and she could handle this. I encouraged her and let her know that I was there for her and she didn't have to be scared. I can tell she felt a little empowered by the whole situation after she said her mind. I'm so proud of her. She's only nine but she's a strong one.

The therapist was pissed basically. She said "well if that mother doesn't feel comfortable enough to allow her child alone in the room with the therapist, she shouldn't take her child to that therapist." (Which I was thinking, thank you for confirming my choice to fire you.lol) She said the parent has trust issues. Whatever, huh?

She said a few other things about not taking on a large family again, blah blah blah...

The whole time the kids were holding my hands and leaning on me and hugging me of their own accord. That's the way it is. At home they are always practically on top of me and Hubs. I noticed she kept staring at them doing this.

Anyway, with that Poufy said she was hungry and ended the session herself. My kids were halfway out the door as the therapist stood there kind of gaping because none of them acknowledged her. I told the kids to say good bye so they did and we left arm in arm, hands entangled, some laughing, some talking fast. It was good for us. It was the right choice.

We went on to McDonald's and allowed them to play for a couple of hours because they seemed to have huge amounts of pent up energy and they were soooo happy. We stopped at Dairy Queen afterwards because they were so hot from playing in those tubes and we were hot from sitting in that glass room. It was nice and relaxed. Don't think I'm purposely drawing a pretty picture. Poufy was still being obnoxious and not doing as she was told but even then she came around at both places and gave Hubs and I big hugs for taking her to McDonald's and Dairy Queen. It wasn't all unicorns and rainbows but it was definitely more relaxed.

Afterwards we went looking around at houses that are for sale in an area we were interested in. We need at least a 6 bedroom/ 3 bath and apparently they don't make houses that big out here. I don't know what we are going to do yet.

Today is the first day of our tax free holiday weekend in my state. I have to have all the kids bring out school uniforms and see who needs what replaced or who's grown out of what and needs to pass it down. I already have the shoes bought and the backpacks. I have socks for some of them. Back to school shopping on a tax free holiday is not fun. But school starts next week for the oldest and then the week after for the rest. So it has to be done.

It's been awhile but I can actually see happier times for us. Isn't that crazy?