Is it scissors??? A mailbox?? A llama?!?!

Alright... so I've been meaning to post this for ages but I've been terribly busy, sorry.Last month for the Labor Day Weekend the kids and I drove to Patrick's point for the weekend. It was wonderful!! The drive was fairly painless.... even though these days I now travel with four miniature chatter boxes. Thankfully, they are pretty darn hysterical and entertaining so the massive headache that I had (with each of their precious little names written all over it) at the end of the 5 hour drive was well worth it. ;)

They all four have stories... lots and LOTS of stories, bless their hearts. And I'm pretty guilt-ridden over not having enough time (or ears) to devote my undividided attention to each of them as much as they'd like (and actually Dion's nickname is Chatty Cathy so between her and my mini-drama-queen, Lacey, there aren't even enough hours in the day, seriously). So when we're driving they're all like a pack of wolves. They know they have me cornered in the left front of the vehicle driving with no place to go... no blue tooth so no phone and no distractions (well except for paying attention to driving but that's a minor detail). So they all want to talk... ALL FOUR OF THEM! And when one story gets too long one of the other kids will jump in and say things like, "Am I going to get a turn?", "When can I talk?", "Are you done yet?". It's funny actually. And I listen. It's hard to keep track of what story happened to who though (and boy do they call me on it if I've missed a detail!!), but it works out. So after a couple hours, when stories about school, church, home, dad's home, colour of the sky, why is the Earth round, are we there yet? were seeping from my ear canals cause I could fit no more.... I decided to start the game 20 Questions.

Well the older kids know how to play for the most part. However, Dion hasn't really participated officially yet - this was going to be her first time. So I say, "Okay guys... I'm thinking of something...." and then they started asking the usual 20 questions.... "Is it living?", "Is it smaller than a basketball?", etc etc. So then, after the example I did to demostrate the rules, it's Lacey's turn first. She ponders for a few moments... looking out the window, him'ing and haw'ing, and then she has it! "Okay, I'm ready!" she says. And before she even get's done saying, "I'm thinking of some........", Dion jumps in. Now mind you Dion is right behind me in her carseat. So I can look in the rear view mirror and see her (but of course I don't.... cause I'm driving ya know). And as I'm not watching her in the rear view mirror I see her eyebrows perk up and she looks towards Lacey and shouts, with her finger pointing across the second row straight at Lacey, "IS IT KNIFE???" I'm thinking to myself HUH???? A knife??? What the heck??? And before I can even ask Dion what the heck she is doing she continues shouting at Lacey.... "A TACO!! IS IT A TACO???" Out of the corner of my eye while I'm watching Dion still (and driving, oh yeah driving) I notice Shane jerk his head violently over to look at me with the biggest, fattest, most confused question mark on his face I've ever seen on anyone. So I'm trying not to laugh cause Dion thinks she's seriously playing a game here and boy is she determined to win! lol. So I shush Shane before he rains on Dion's parade with some smart aleck comment I knew he was prepared with. And just as I'm about to say something Dion continues. Now mind you all of these things so far have pretty much happened simotaneously. Lacey starts the game, Dion begins shouting her guesses, and Shane and I are both on the same dumbfounded page as each other... so it continues. "GIVE US A HINT!!!!" Dion shouts, and in the same breath she says, "IS IT A PIGMY GOAT??". So by now EVERYONE in the car is staring at Dion. I could even see little Savannah way in the third row lean up to peer around the head rest so she could look at Dion. Lacey's over against the window on the passenger side staring across the seat toward Dion looking quite intimidated by Dion's finger pointing straight at her! And then Shane, who by now has turned his very baffled face toward the backseat to watch this craziness unfold. A burst of laughter exploded from my mouth, without permission mind you cause I didn't want Dion to feel silly or anything... I mean she was trying the best she knew how to play, lol. So I say to Dion, "Uhmmm, hey... Dion?" She's completely oblivious to the fact that she's currently the ONLY one playing the game, lol. I see her hand drop and she looks straight at me in the rear view mirror, "What mom? I'm playing a game here!" she says. I said, "I know sweetie but you can't do that. You can't just guess answers, you have to ask questions that will give you clues to what it is so when we're done we can all pick one answer together." Now, in retrospect, in her defense, I suppose I hadn't gone into detail over that aspect of the game. I just assumed she had paid attention to the demonstration the older kids and I had given her about what kinds of questions to ask and stuff. So then I say, "And you can't ask her to give you a hint after just two questions." "Oh," she said, slightly disappointed I thought. But I didn't want to make a big deal out of it so I said, "Okay guys, go!" And what do you know???? Dion starts right back in!!! "A DUCK??? A PENCIL?? A JUMPROPE??? LIPSTICK!! IS IT LIPSTICK?? GIVE ME A HINT!!! JELLO?? STRAWBERRY JELLO!!! SCISSORS!! A MAILBOX??? LLAMA!!! A HINT, GIVE US A HINT!! TOOTHPASTE!!" lmao! Yep, she sure did. So.... that's how she continued to play the game for the next 50 miles. lol. It sure kept us entertained cause boy is she even more random than her mother!! lol. And believe it or not... ONE TIME, one time she ACTUALLY guessed it right!!! Which only reinforced her notion that how she was playing was juuuuust fine. lol.

"Enjoy the little things in life... for one day you will look back and realize they were the big things."

Duckopoly

Shane went to a Ducks Unlimited Benefit dinner with his friend and his friend's dad a couple weekends ago. He won this Duckopoly game in a raffle drawing. It's basically Monopoly to a duck theme. At any rate, we've been playing it the last couple days. The kids enjoy it and although it's slightly time consuming as far as I'm concerned, I've been trying to take my own advice about enjoying the moments and all that jazz. lol.

So tonight Dion and Savannah decided they wanted to give it a go. Up until this point they've been appeased with being "banker" or "property manager" and helping and such. But they both wanted to play tonight. So I sat between them to help them manage the game. A couple rounds into the game I landed on one of Dion's properties that she had bought already, so I forked over the $14 dollars or so. A few minutes later I looked down and see a property of Dion's that was stacked on my properties. I picked it up and looked at Dion and said, "What's this doing on my stack?" And she says, "Oh, well yeah, remember when you gave me that money a bit ago, I figured I'd give you the property since you gave me so many white monies." (Mind you the white monies are $1 bills. lol). I'm like, "Aww thanks babe, but you don't have to do that." And I proceed to explain further how the landing on other people's property works and give her back her property card.

A few turns later Shane was griping about how he didn't have any money left. All of the sudden Dion's chair scoots out and she's marching around the backside of the dining room table. I'm about to ask her where she's going as it's her turn next but kept my mouth closed as I watch her plop down a stack of Duckopoly money right in front of Shane. She said, "Here Bubba." and marched back and climbed up in her chair. He picks up the curled chunk of change and riffled through it. "What's this for?" he asked. "Betuz you said you didn't hab money." she simply stated. As if we had missed that part. We all died laughing and explained to her that it's part of the game to run out of money and she didn't need to hand hers out. "But it's otay tuz I wanted to." she said as she was organizing what remained of her bills. Shane smiled and reached across the table handing back the $108 in miscellaneous bills she had so kindly given him. "Thanks Dion but you keep it."

So a few turns later Dion lands on Savannah's property. I looked to my right and proceeded to tell Dion she needed to give Savannah $24.00. I tell her, "a yellow one and four white ones." She started to gather it up but stopped to look to me and ask, "Well what do I get for it?" I chuckled, "Nothing sweety. You just owe her the money." She IMMEDIATELY starts putting what she had gathered back down on her stacks and VERY matter of factly she says, "Oh, well no thanks. That doesn't sound like something I want to do." hahahahaha!! Needless to say, Shane, Lacey, Savannah, and I all about died laughing. I explained to her that wasn't an option and she begrudgingly handed the money to Savannah.

It wasn't long before Dion was over playing. She had no interest in the silliness of just giving people money and not getting anything back, nor not being able to hand money to her bubba when she knew he needed it. lol.

It was a learning experience for us all.

And so it begins again...

Yesterday was not a good day.

Today is not either.

The kids begin visits with their dad again today. I dropped them off at school this morning with the knowledge that their drug-addicted, abusive, selfish father would be picking them up. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I did what I could to prevent this from happening. They haven't seen him in well over a month... or even talked to him. And they were doing great!! Things couldn't have been going better. Their behavior, their attitudes, their school work... all vastly improved from months ago. They were happy. They felt safe. And last night I had to break the news to them that all those promises I made to them in the middle of the night when they couldn't sleep and came to me sobbing to please not make them go back to visit their dad... that I couldn't keep those promises. I would never wish the feeling of not being able to protect your babies on anyone - it's got to be one of the hardest pills to swallow ever. And I think I'm choking on my pill.

As far as the technicalities of the situation are concerned... I'll make it simple for you. We got a shitty judge. He was sitting in for the judge who usually hears our case. The judge that usually hears our case is the one that denied Mike's ridiculous request for 100% physical custody, and is the one that knows how many times Mike has tested dirty, and would have never let Mike's pompous, bow-tie-wearing, asshole of a lawyer pull the shit he pulled in court yesterday. So that's where that lies.

At any rate, I will be spending tonight by myself. As I will for the next three weekends and every single Tuesday while the kids are at visits. Until court on the 29th where I will try again.

Until then...

Me too!

I have a feeling that those moments in which you stop and wonder where the heck your "baby" went are going to be more and more frequent from here on. And to those who don't have kids yet, or who's kids aren't old enough to relate... I have some advice for you - cherish the moments, all of them. Even the tiny trivial moments that you let slip by without even a second thought, find something about that moment and enjoy it. Not just the moments in which your little guy hits his first t-ball and then runs towards third base. Not just in the moments when you're flashing pictures of them getting an award in school. Not just those moments that we all live for when you're watching them sleep! ;) Enjoy all of the moments. Even if it's that one moment that you want to curse after stepping on the sharp pointy fake gun sticking out the side of a little army guy that you asked your son to pick up 20 minutes ago. Even if it's while doing that extra 2 loads of little girl laundry A DAY because they are going through a phase in which the world will come to a screeching halt if your daughter doesn't get to change her outfit 4 times a day. Even when you're on your knees scrubbing oatmeal off the floor under the table, or stepping in sticky apple juice on the kitchen floor because they HAD to pour it themselves. I wish I had. I wish I had smiled at those moments and gave my kids just one more hug. I wish I would have cuddled 5 minutes longer or read one more book to them instead of feeling like I had to get up and finish the laundry. Because the day has already come and gone in which Shane got "too old" for army men and put them in a bag one day and brought them to me to give to his younger cousin. And I know one day Dion will stay in the same outfit for more than 3 hours and I'll miss the incessant laundry, I really will. And my floor is less and less sticky these days as I've only one short person who can't really pour it herself without spilling. They all know to run to first base, not third, after hitting the ball. They can all brush their own teeth. The things that once felt like chores, I miss. And if I thought the last 5-11 years have flown by, I have a feeling I'm really not going to like the speed of the next 15.

Incase you're wondering what brought this on, here's the "moment". Every morning when I drop the kids off at school I said, "I love you! Have a great day!!" And between the car doors slamming I hear the occasional, "OK!" or "Thanks!" or "I will!" and then they're off to their perceived "busy day" at school full of hop scotch, times tables, library, teather ball, and incessant breaks and snack periods. But not today; today was a first. I dropped Savannah and Lacey off first; wished Lacey luck on her test today, told Savannah I hoped she enjoyed her lunch she made herself this morning, and wish them a great day. Doors slammed and they were off. Then I took Shane over to his side of the campus. He leaned over to give me a kiss and as he opened the door I said, "Have a great day!". And he looked at me and sincerely said, "You too, Mom." Whaaaaat?? Me too??? Me too have a great day?? I said thanks and pull away. A little butterfly of happiness in my stomach kept the knot in my throat down. In that moment he wasn't that little boy that used to beg me to let him stay home from school to hang out with me and make cookies. He wasn't that little boy who only thought of his day and assumed mine stopped the minute I dropped them off. In that moment he was growing up, and it was bittersweet. And just because he told me to, I'm going to have a great day! :)

"There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again." ~Elizabeth Lawrence

"Life is a matter of passing the time enjoyably. There may be other things in life, but I've been too busy passing my time enjoyably to think very deeply about them."
- Peter Cook

Savannah, The Entreprenuer

"The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter." -Mark Twain

Man I wish I carried a voice recorder with me all the time. These kids of mine, I tell ya, are just too funny! This last weekend we went to Reno and the drive there and back gave the rest of the trip a run for it's money on fun! I'm constantly amazed by how quickly the kids are growing up, even more so when it comes to conversations. Simply put, they are brilliant and hysterical. There were a million and one things that were said that I busted up laughing at that I could kick myself for not remembering. In retrospect, I can't believe I paid $43.50 for a ticket to a comedy show in which I only laughed a fraction of the times I laughed during the drive.

I have a rule, actually I have many, many, many rules - ask the kids, lol. But one of my rules is that the kids are not allowed to call each other names. Shane and I were talking up front and I heard Lacey and Dion begin to argue over something. Now don't be alarmed, I was listening to Shane; but I'm a mother, it's in our job description to be able to multitask and one of THE most important multi-tasking subjects is having four sets of ears. At any rate, I knew it was coming and sure enough Lacey says, "MOM!! Dion is being annooooooooyyying!!" (Yes, it was said JUST LIKE THAT! lol). So then here comes Dion's 2 cents, "Well Mom!!! She's having a sassy mouth!!!" Notice, they said they are "being" or "having", not they ARE! But Dion's accusation really rubbed Lacey the wrong way. So while Shane and I are in the front rolling our eyes at each other over the ridiculousness of the girls' drama, Lacey decides she's going to risk it and get one up on Dion. So, somewhat quietly, I'm assuming in an attempt to prevent me from hearing, she says to Dion, "Well you ARE sassy!!" Oh noooooo!!

So I'm listening, and driving, and glancing in the rear view mirror waiting to see how this is going to play out. And to my surprise I noticed a vague smile come over Savannah's face?!?!? Savannah had been quietly sitting in the third row minding her own business, also probably rolling her eyes over the quarrel taking place in the middle seat. And without missing a beat Savannah pipes up, "Well, Lacey, you can call me sassy....................


..... FOR FIIIIIIIIVE BUCKS!!!!"

Lacey and Dion both stopped dead in their tracks and looked back at Savannah, who then said, "And for $1,000 bucks you could even call me a brat!!!!"

We all died laughing! I suppose Savannah got tired of the conflict and inserted her own peacekeeping tactic. It worked better than anything I was preparing to do. :)

The 'B' word.

I know it's been a couple months since my last posting. I've been a recluse of some sorts since then, trying to figure things out and deal with them. I kinda internalize things of this nature because I don't like having such overwhelming negativity in my life, but it is what it is so I've just tried to talk myself in circles instead of burdening others with it. Initially, my intentions were to just hold out for a bit, to try to hang in there long enough for Mike to decide, as he always has, that he had more important places to be and things to do than to be a father; that or screw up, which also is quite the hobby of his.

At any rate, it's gone on a lot longer than I'd expected. I discovered that his new girlfriend and his family are putting in quite the hours as his enablers. Now I know this might sound horrible, that I'm sitting here waiting for him fail. But that's kind of a result of years of exposure to him and the person he's chosen to be. In my heart of hearts, OF COURSE I want him to be a healthy, responsible, loving, proud father to his children. I want my baby girls to have a daddy to run up to and be swept up in the kind of big, strong, safe hug only a father can give. I want my son to have someone to look up to, someone to aspire to, someone to be proud of. I think that's why I hung on for long before the divorce; because I've read the statistics on children raised in broken homes. Long before the feeling was actually real, my heart ached at just the thought of the kids feeling like they were different or not worthy because they didn't have a dad who desired to be there for them. My point being, I pray daily that Mike finds it in him to be the kind of dad my children deserve; but reality, the past, and now the present predict that that's not going to happen... not anytime soon at least.

So it's happening, his "weekend dad" circus show is slowing falling apart at the seams. And it's bittersweet. It's FAR from the relief I thought it might be. The months and months that had gone by last year that he didn't even bother with a phone call gave me just enough of a break from my usual full-time job of healing the kids' hearts from his selfish decisions, that I forgot, I forgot how instantly, and almost literally, you can feel your heart shattered from listening to the confusion and hurt while watching tiny tears stream down their faces that you can't possible wipe off quick enough. There's been things here and there since January that made me realize that my just getting through was going to be a lot harder than I thought. Like one time when he let Lacey call me from his cell phone from out in front of the school when he was dropping them off one morning because she needed me to bring her something to school that day. Well he must've thought she turned off the phone because I heard him set it down on the console, still on. So I sat there and felt my face grow hot as I listened to him yell, and I mean yell, at the one of the kids, "FU*K! What the f*ck!?!?! Watch what the f*ck you're doing!!!!!" Needless to say, I hung up. But today, today I thought I might actually crumble to the ground in pieces.

Today, Lacey told me that Mike called her a b*tch this morning. She came up to me next to the pool while I was blowing up a floaty. She just stood there, looking down, chasing an ant around the pavement with her big toe that had pink chipped fingernail polish on it, her voice shaking, telling me her father had called her the "b-word". It had something to do with breakfast and Monkey Bread and Savannah and something else. I didn't really get the whole story, nor do I think it matters much. I said, "Uhmmm... what????" If you haven't ever heard anyone refer to mother feathers, well, lemme just say they weren't ruffled... I was a naked bird standing there as every single one of them flew right off. I tried not to make a big deal about it because I want the kids to feel like they can tell me anything and I'm not going to freak out. I think she saw all the colour drain from my face though because she said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe he didn't." Now I know from experience, kids can exaggerate and sometimes even fabricate things; so as a general rule of thumb I try to keep things in perspective when chatting with the kids. But without missing a beat, Savannah piped up from the pool steps only just 2 feet away, "Uh, yes he did, Lacey. He called you the b-word. I heard him. He did, Mom." I saw a tear run down Lacey's face. I said, "Lacey, look at me." She wouldn't look up. I pushed away all the horrible, hateful words I wanted to yell at Mike in that moment and put down the floaty and squatted down in front of her so she had nowhere else to look at but at me. "I'm sorry," I told her, "I'm sorry your daddy said that to you. You ARE NOT the b-word. No matter what you do you would never be a b-word. And your daddy should not have said that to you." She nodded. And low and behold, as would be expected, Shane piped up from the seat in the deep end where he had been watching like the good little detective of Mike's he is, and said, "Well he tried apologizing Lacey. And you wouldn't let him." I hushed him right up. I said we were done talking about it and we proceeded to cool ourselves in the way-too-cold water from the 97 degree heat. But I was still sick.

It got worse. Shortly after getting home I had spaghetti on the stove cooking, I was mopping the kitchen floor, Savannah was on the computer, Lacey was... guess??..... yes READING, Harland was busy throwing anything he could find onto my mopped kitchen from from behind his non-productive barricade of chairs, and Shane and Dion were watching The Tale of Desperaux. Anyhow, I walked through the living to do something and on the way back, somehow, Dion managed to hop on her knees or something of the sort right across my pinkie toe - ripped the nail half off. It hurt quite a bit to put it mildly. BUT, I knew it had to have hurt her knee just as bad. I said, "Shoot!!" while picking what bit of nail was hanging on by a thread and then looked down at Dion. She had big eyes and a blank look. I told her, "It's okay. It's your knee alright? Is it bleeding?" She burst into tears. Briefly I thought, well it can't be THAT bad. But that's not why she was crying. I walked over to her and asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" She had her face in her hands and was crying and said, "I'm sorry. It was an accident!" I rubbed her back for a second and said I knew it was an accident and it was okay and did she need a band aid for her knee. I heard my hamburger meat needing stirring so I proceeded to the kitchen. About 5 minutes later she popped her head up over the kitchen counter putting to use one of the barricade chair that weren't working anyway. She was still a bit sober, her head down. She quietly said, "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to." and started to cry. I was a bit surprised because I thought we had gotten over this. I walked down to the end of the counter and put my arm around her and said, "I know, Baby Girl. I said it was okay, I'm fine. No biggie." Muffled by my shoulder, she said, "But Daddy always gets mad and yells at me even if it's an accident." I squeezed a little tighter and said, "Well I'm sorry. But it's okay. Accidents happen. I'm okay, you're okay. Want some orange Julius??" Thinking I wasn't going to notice she wiped her face on my shoulder before pulling away and said, "Okay, thank-you. I lub you." How can I send her back there knowing I can't protect her from that sort of thing?

And now for the icing. Yes, there's more. We were sitting at the dinner table and Savannah was to my left. About half way through while the other three kids were occupied by laughing at Shane who had the hiccups and was leaning back against the wall so that every time he hiccuped the back of his head would hit the wall. I know, the things these kids amuse themselves with. lol. Anyway, Savannah stood up from her chair and took one step next to me. With her lovely garlic bread crumb covered hand resting on my shoulder, she looked away from the table as if to keep the other kids from reading her lips, and said quietly, "Mom, I don't want to go to Dad's on Tuesday. Do I have to go?" Now this isn't the first time I've heard this from one of them, so I just said, "I think you do, Sweetie. I don't know. I guess maybe you could ask Dad and see what he says." I saw her swallow, and blink, and I knew what was next. Her eyes welled up and she said said, looking at the wall behind me, "But I don't want him to yell at us anymore. He always cusses and yells at us when we do things wrong, like spill something or something, even if it's on accident." I put down my fork and put my arm around her and gave her a hug and whispered in her ear, "I'm so sorry, Sweetie. We can ask him if you can stay home Tuesday." She nodded and pulled away, wiped her tears off so the other kids wouldn't see, and went back to her dinner.

I tucked them in tonight, laid on the couch, and sobbed. I should've moved away last year when I had the chance.

Pray for them, for us.

♥me

Updates....

are coming soon, hopefully. :)

♥

Will I ever sleep again?

So this is night number two.  It's 2:30 a.m. and I can't sleep.  I couldn't sleep last night either.  Yet, oddly enough, I keep hoping to wake up any minute now.  Standing at the kitchen sink making a bottle earlier I even squeezed my eyes shut for a second and thought to myself... when I open them I'll be in bed and things will be back to normal.  It didn't work.  And if I lay down to go to sleep it only forces me to accept that this really IS happening.  It's not a nightmare.  I won't wake up.  

I went to mediation on Friday with Mike.  He's taking me back to court for custody, visitation, and child support amendments to what's been court ordered for 3 1/2 years now - 100% legal and physical custody to me with supervised visitation for him.  Ever since Mike beat me up in front of the kids at the beginning of October we hadn't heard a word from him, not even from his family... not even for Thanksgiving.  I was relieved.  Things were going well.  The kids had adjusted quickly, as this is about the 6th time Mike has practically dropped off the face of the Earth, and were okay with his absence.  Needless to say they had wondered what he was up to and why he hadn't called, but they are smart enough kids to know that the way Mike had been acting was not something they wanted to be around.  

For a Thanksgiving project Lacey was supposed to write down seven things she was thankful for.  The first one read, "I am thankful for my family. (NOT my dad)".  Yep.  She was suppose to write a family book describing the things she was thankful about for each member of the family, she opted to leave Mike out.  My brother, Tony, took Lacey and Savannah to their very first Father/Daughter dance.  Dion asked me last month if I had a photo of her dad for her to look at because she couldn't remember what he looked like.  I already blogged previously of Savannah's request for a dad for Christmas.  Shane's torn between being angry and hurt and and being Mike's most loyal offspring, which is to be expected.  He's the only boy.  He's stuck in a home with four unreasonable, more often than not emotional, girly girls.  Even our dog is a girl he's points out.  

I don't doubt that Mike loves and misses his kids.  And despite the kids having been through this enough times that they've stopped asking when will they see him next - I know they love and miss him as well.  It's an amazing thing called unconditional love that most children possess for their parents (at least until their teenage years so I hear).  I have always hoped and prayed that Mike would be capable of getting his life together and being involved with his kids.  They deserve a dad.  However, if he were capable of it I highly doubt we'd even been in this position, so at minimal I think I'm allowed to be skeptical of the prospect of him being there for the kids on a healthy level consistently.  So when I got served the court papers I was floored to say the least.  This man who hadn't even bothered to pick up the phone in over three months had it in him to get an attorney and drag this into court.  And it's not even because I wouldn't let him see the kids... he'd HAVE TO ASK OR MAKE AN EFFORT to see the kids in order for me to tell him no even if I wanted to.  

Anyway, I digress...  here's where I start crying uncontrollably.  Beginning on Tuesday, January 6th, Mike will get the kids the first three weekends of every month and every Tuesday night.  So Friday night he picks them up from my house at 6:00 p.m. and I pick them up from his house Sunday at 6:00 p.m. and then every Tuesday he picks them up from school and keeps them overnight and drops them back off at school on Wednesday.  So I will be going from having my kids 24/7 to having them only for a few hours Sunday night, Monday after school, then not till Wednesday after school, Thursday night, and then a couple hours Friday.  Is this not ludicrous!?!??!  Am I the only one baffled by this arrangement?  How can he go from NOTHING to ALL of this time??  We left the court house and I told the kids, just briefly, the schedule and Lacey started crying.  She told me to take her back to the court house so she could tell the mediator that she doesn't want to go with him that much.  I am... my kids.  I am 'mom'.  I don't date.  Most of my friends have kids and we do stuff with them.  I plan my schooling around the kids so I am away from them as minimally as possible.  So although you may be sitting there wondering why I seem to be making a mountain out of a mole hill... I'm not.  This is more than a mountain.  

I know people do this everyday.  But we're not them, we're us.  And whether or not I survive this remains to be seen.  I do know one thing, if I survive this loneliness and fear for the well being of my kids.. it will be only be by the grace of God and His strength that I do so.  Cause I want to retreat under my rock at just the thought of this arrangement, let alone once it begins.

And I thought that it was the end of my world when I started working last year.

Pray for us.

~me

Oh my gosh cheating is hereditary!!

But thankfully so is a great sense of humour!  :)

Shane and I sat down to play a game of "Three" at the table the other night.  You use Scrabble letter pieces and place them face down on the table.  Each of the players draw three letters and you attempt to make words out of the three letters you draw.  The first to form a word from their letters hollers, "THREE!" and all the players draw three more letters.  If noone can form a word you each agree to draw again.  Each word has to attach to the previous like on a crossword puzzle.  You can switch letters around as you get them to form longer words and use all of the letters.  At any rate, that was all extremely useless information as the details pertain minimally to my story but now you know a new game to play!! :)  (Thanks Grandma Lengtat for teaching Shane and I on Christmas, lol.)  So Shane and I draw three.  No words.  Draw three more.  Well I'm over diligently working with my six letters trying to beat him to forming a word, and I hear him chuckle to himself.  I glanced up... and then quickly returned to my letters.  Shane says, "Do you wanna hear something funny, Mom?"  I said, "But of course."  Afterall, who in their right mind turns down a reason to laugh?  He proceeded to explain to me that in the second set of three letters he got, one of them was a 'u'.  He didn't want a 'u'.  "So I flipped it back over and slide it into the middle and got a new one," he continued with a smirk.  "And guess what it was?" he asked rhetorically.  "ahhh 'u'!!" he exclaimed.  "I think it was God saying, 'Nope, no cheating Shane.'"  lol.  I died laughing.  He was quite matter of fact about it and figured he'd share the lesson... and the laugh.

So then tonight my brother, Tony, and his fiance, Stacy, came over.  They were at the table playing Uno with Lacey and Savannah and Dion and who do I spy trying to lay down two cards stacked ontop of each other at one time???  TONY BOLOGNE!!!  Uncle Noni!!!  My brother tried to cheat!!  AT UNO!!!  Against his 4, 6, and 8-year-old neices!!  lol.  

But I don't cheat.  No need to when you're as good as I am at everything.  :P

Did you know I'm awesome?

Dion found a can of fruit in the fridge earlier.  Although I'm pretty sure she went to fetch a water bottle, she must've found the lone cherry on the label on the canned fruit cocktail too irresistable to pass up.  I was rocking Macy in the living room when she shouts to me, "Mom!!  Tan I hab this fruit?"  It took me a second to think about what she may have found... well, alright, longer than a second - cause she then yells, "Welllll!!!????!!!  Taannnnn I??".  I said, "Uhh, yeah... sure."  I hear some rustling in the utensils drawer as she looked for the can opener, which in all actuality was more like the noise that came from the chimney sweeeper guy on Mary Poppins when he plays that all-in-one instrument on the streets.  I can hear her dragging the stool across the kitchen floor and I say, in a helpful yet coverted attempt to avoid her dripping sticky fruit juice on the floor, "Dion, if you bring the can to me I'll open it for you."  She replied quickly, and a bit offended I could tell by her tone, "No thanks.  I tan do it by myself."  So I wait... silently counting in my head how long it would take her till she needed me.  She's quite determined if you didn't know her... cause I finally stopped counting.  She was definitely giving it her all as I could hear the can sliding around the counter and then the can opener slipping off the top of the tin can and slamming onto the counter.  Forget the sticky floors, I started to wonder if the counter was going to come out atleast repairable.  I smiled as I visualized her little frustrated face concentrating on getting to that lone cherry half out of that impossible can.  The smile turned into a chuckle that I tried to keep silent as I listened to her huff.... and puff... and even growl once.  lol.  Finally, it happened, "MOM!!!!!!!!  I need you!  Do you know how to use this can opener??"  Alas!!  "Hmmmmm, I think so, Dion..." I replied, "... coming."  I laid Macy down and sauntered into the kitchen, all the while listening to her still wrestling with this disobedient can opener that had become her worst enemy.  I walked around the corner and into the kitchen only to see her with the can opener barely hanging off the tiny lip on the top of the can... sideways.  "Alright, lemme see here..." I said, slipping my hands inplace of hers.  She stood there, still, a foot to my right, on her stool, clasping her surely sore hands together, watching... watching me, the can opener, and the can.  I turned the can opener right-side up, slide it onto the lip on the can, and started twisting.  She tilted her head and leaned toward me so she could see around my hand to the sharp blade that sliced into the lid.  "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, that's how you do it!!  How do you know everything???" she gasped through her ear to ear grin.  I opened the cupboard door  by my head, pulled out a bowl, drained the dreaded sticky juice syrup down the drain, and dumped the prized contents of the can into the bowl.  Dion jumped down off the stool, retrieved a spoon from the silverware drawer, and came back for her fruit... and the cherry half, which there were three of, which made this whole feat even more rewarding.  I handed her the bowl.  She turned and walked away toward the table and without even looking back, still hearing the grin on her face, she announced quite proudly, "My mom is sooo awesome!!"

So... there you have it.  I may not know how to cure cancer, or be a nurse in a third-world country (yet)... but!!  I know how to use a can opener.  And that makes me pretty awesome!  Just ask Dion.