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.

Hit me with your "Pet Shop"!!

Ok, so I'm sitting here putting up pics and the movie 'Bring It On Again' that Dion was watching ends.  While they are rolling the credits the song 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' comes on.  Dion's on the couch brushing her hair waiting for me to curl it (she's going through a stage, lol) and I hear her singing... 

'Won't you hit me with your Pet Shop!!  Oh oh oh oh oh oh...  Oh yeahahaheaeaeaea...'

So, I ask her... 'What are you singing, Dion?' trying not to die laughing.  She says, 'Hit me with your Pet Shop.'  I'm like, 'Uhm, ok... but what does that mean?'  She looks at me, confused for a second... I suppose wondering if I'm serious, cause she says, 'Uhm, Mom... it means you take a Pet Shop and you hit someone with it.'  'Well why would you do that?' I asked about to burst at the seams trying not to laugh.  'I don't know... I didn't write the song, I'm just singing it.' she says, condescendingly, as she's walking away.

Omgosh that child.  lol.  She is good for my endorphins.  lol. 

Instantly heart-broken, instantly...

So I'm sitting here shopping online and the kids are busy telling me what they want for Christmas.  Savannah just came up and grabbed my shoulder (with her Funyun chip covered hands) and said all excitedly with her eyebrows near her hairline... 

"Do you know what I want for Christmas, Mom!?!??!?"  

I say (fully expecting it to be something from whatever commercial was just on 15 seconds ago), "What, Hun?".  

...

...

...

"A DAD!!!" she says...

...

...

...

...

I'll be under my rock if anyone is looking for me.

Peace out.

I am NOT fragile! Who said I was!??! Oh yeah, me.

Okay so I was very obviously having a moment when I typed that last blog, and I've been meaning to return to rectify that situation but haven't made the time.  I'm not going to ramble on with a bunch of useless information and reasons why I am not fragile afterall.  I know, surprising huh?  Me?  Not ramble?!!??!  Is that even possible??!  But the people who matter and who care about me and my kids already know the sorted details.  The bottom line is that I have four of THE MOST amazing kids to walk this Earth, truly.  And considering what they've gone through in their short lifetimes they are the most deserving kids of everything they could ever want.  Which is why I'm going to work hard and diligently and make whatever sacrifices necessary to provide them with that.  And I know I can do it, even if it's just me by myself for the rest of my life.

So that's that.  And thanks to those who were supportive of my weak, self-pitying sob story and who encouraged me.  

God Bless!

♥~me~

I'm fragile.

That's what I figured out - that I'm fragile. Part of me is anyhow. And I also realized that the sooner I make myself accept that and be okay with it, the easier hard times will be. Whenever things aren't going right or I feel overwhelmed, whatever the issues at hand are, they get magnified by the fact that I become so hard on myself for feeling overwhelmed or down. Instead of admitting to myself that I'm struggling with whatever (emotionally struggles, financial, physical... whatever) I get disappointed in myself and feel like a failure. There was point in time when I let myself cry. When I admitted I had needs. When I didn't feel like I had to carry the world on my shoulders. But in the last several years - since I've been on my own taking care of everything, I've walled the part of me off that is fragile and imperfect. That part that needs other people. I'm not cold by any means. And I'm not feeling sorry for myself, not for one second. I just don't like feeling like a burden and inconveniencing people so I've become overly independent. And my coping mechanism has ALWAYS been denial so I just keep on keepin' on. I don't know if any of this is making sense at this point. I just know earlier today I told myself,

"Self, snap out of it. It's okay to stop and feel overwhelmed. Kicking your own ass because you feel like you're drowning and it's all your fault isn't going to get you anywhere. Self, pick your head up, know you're actually NOT invincible no matter how much you think you are or want to be and keep going, try harder, don't give up."

Well I was a bit more disgusted with myself when the conversation actually took place earlier, but that was the G-rated version. ;) And yes, I talk to myself from time to time. :P

Anyway, I decided to concern myself with today and let God worry about tomorrow.

"If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint," then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced."-Vincent Van Gogh

Little spitfire, she is.

I'm sure most of you who know me personally know exactly who I'm talking about by the subject matter alone. Yes, that'd be Miss Dion Marie. ;) She is 4 1/2 now going on a very sarcastic 12. Even worse for me is how incredible smart and quick she is. I'd like to go ahead and take credit for it... so I will. :) Anyway, recently we met someone and they say the word 'Dude' incessantly. Even though I'm slightly annoyed by it, we got used to it and unfortunately Dion actually began saying it from time to time. Anyway, there are probably a dozen times a day that I think to sit down and share a story with you guys about how entertaining she is. But it'd really be a full time job and by the time I come to sit down I've usually forgotten what it was. Anyway, on with the story...

So I'm in the kitchen loading the dishwasher and I hear the blinds on the patio door banging around. Not being able to see over the counter top I say, "Whoever's messing with the blinds needs to stop please." It's quiet for a second. Then I can see the blinds moving again. I move down the counter top so I can see over it and there's Dion, her back to me, messing with one of the slats on the blinds. I said, a bit more stern, "Dion, stop touching those please." She slams her hands down at her sides and says, in a VERY condescending voice, "I'm fixing dem, Dude! Stop lelling at me. Geesh!" (yelling, but she still has a speech inpediment at times despite 4 months of speech therapy.) I'm kinda speechless for a second at this point because she's kinda right. lol. So I say, "Ok, well thank-you. Next time just tell me that." She comes around the corner, comes up to me, and smacks me on the butt and say, "Otay Dude. I'll do dat den. Tate a chill pill, Dude." No, I'm not kidding you. That is PRECISELY how it went down.

OH MY GOSH WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH HER!?!??! lol.

Why is there a snake in my living room??

So my place is surrounded by fields and I know there are snakes, but never should I be expected to anticipate one crawling onto my patio and into my living room from underneath my patio door. Ugh!

It was around 11 p.m. last night (yes, 12 hours later I'm still worked up over it!) and my kids had gotten to bed late. I was sitting at my desk in the living room attempting homework/playing mobsters instead (lol) and I got up from my desk to walk across the living room to the kitchen to get a drink and there it was, slithering across the rug almost to the kitchen floor. I scream, but of course!! And jumped back. Apppaaaarently THE SNAKE didn't appreciate ME startling it!! So he coils up and rears back like he's going to strike. Wteff ever dude... you're in MY HOUSE!! So I'm pacing in the living... trying to rack my brain on who the heck I'm going to call at 11 o'clock at night to come get a snake out of my house. Mind you had it been a rattle snake I'da died of heart failure almost instanteously. However, it was a black and white king snake. BIG though, lemme tell ya! Of course it could have been the size of a worm and it would have been too large to be in my house. So I have the phone in my hand and I'm standing on the ottoman and Lacey comes walking down the hallway to see why I screamed. Well shes sees it from the hallway and FREAKS out running back down the hallway. THEN the phone rings, while in my hand, and seeing as I'm on pins and needles as it is I end up practically hanging from the ceiling that's how high it made me jump. It was my mom, I answered it, "OH MY F*^ING GOSH, MOM!!" (Mind you for those of you who know me and my parents... uhmm cussing is NOT very common at all, lol.) I said, "THERE IS A SNAKE IN MY HOUSE!"

Anyway, I'm about to call the fire department or police or something cause I can't think of anyone shilverish enough to come save me from a snake at 11:00 at night. lol. Then I remember that the girl across the way from me has just recently started seeing this guy.. maybe he's there. But I don't want to lose sight of the snake. Then I noticed the snake was hanging a hard right into the kitchen... all I can think is NOOO, NOT UNDER THE FRIDGE or up into the cupboards. So I toss a sweater over the kitchen bar/counter from the living room onto the kitchen floor. Not only did it do the trick and turn him around but it pissed him off even more. I mean, I know the whole "Oh, he's just as scared of you as you are of him. And all he's trying to do is get away." Wellllllllllll, I call bullshit on this one cause this snake wanted a piece of anyone and anything. So he strikes at the sweater and turns around and goes toward the dining room. Which is acceptable to me cause there was really no place for him to hid in there and that gave me time to run across to the neighbors.

So I pound on her door, and I mean pound, "BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!" with the end of my closed fist (the neighbor said later she coulda swore it was the cops, lol." She answers and before she can even say hi I interrupted her, "Is your boyfriend here?!??!" I said. lol. She's probably thinking, "What the heck do you want with my boyfriend at 11:00 at night??? lol. Well I saw it on her face so I followed it up with, "And is he afraid of snakes?? Cause there is a snake in my house and I REALLY need someone to get it out!" So she says, "Yeah, he's here and no, I don't think he's afraid of snake." So the guy gets up and they follow me back to my place. I open the door and point across the living room into the dining room and tell him that it's somewhere over there. Anyway, he picked it up and carried it out.

Needless to say I sat in my desk chair with my feet up for hours. I couldn't walk past the patio door without instant chills. Even now... grrrrrr...

Alright, that settles it. I need a man around the house. lol.

Chasing Pavements...

It's almost 9:00 p.m. I'm exhausted - in every way possible. I probably shouldn't write when I'm feeling like this - at least not in a public blog at any rate. Yet, here I am. Mostly because I don't talk to the person I used to vent to anymore. And I don't feel comfortable calling anyone else up right now and venting. I shouldn't vent to anyone probably. Who wants to listen to that?? lol. He'd listen to me though. And then he'd tell me to get on with it. And make some rude joke that would make me laugh and roll my eyes. I rolled my eyes a lot. lol. Anyway...

I just finished some Physiology homework. And although I have a ton more to be working on I think I'm going to call it good for today on that. And even though I'd like to just go crawl in bed and have this day be over, not that tomorrow will be much better, I shouldn't. I think I'm going to take 2 Excedrin and clean for the next 3-4 hours. My house needs it. It was a hectic holiday weekend, this last weekend was, and boy am I behind, on everything.

I hate feeling so negative. As I sit here and think about what to type next nothing but bitching comes to mind. (Pardon the language Grammie.) There are these people that moved in above me. And they are delinquents. The cops have been here at least 4-5 times in the last month because of them. They are in gangs and deal drugs. Lovely, huh. I hate apartment living. I always thought of myself as a fairly tolerant person. Uhmmmm, I now know better. And it's not everyone. A few of the people are alright. But boy can one person ruin it for everyone. Then I hear myself complaining about it and I smack myself around a bit. I mean, criminy Heather, some people don't even have a roof over their heads. Let alone an affordable, brand new, 4 bedroom, 1300 sq ft. apartment with a pool and gym and club house. Then I remember what it was like to have a back yard for the kids. For them to be able to go out and ride their bikes whenever they wanted. To be able to lay in bed and not listen to what sounds like a herd of elephants doing the Irish jig on the dining room floor in tap shoes above me. To be able to walk out to my car in the driveway and not have 20 people staring at me. To be able to sit on the back patio and BBQ. Ugh. If my old life wasn't so morally unacceptable (and unsafe) I'd almost want it back sometimes - just for the kids' sakes. I go on and on about me being miserable here - but most of that stems from them being so miserable. And even deeper than that is the fact that I feel like I'm failing them. Like I'm disappointing them. They aren't spoiled brats by any means. And never do they say anything intentionally hurtful about our lives. But they do say things, innocently, accidentally even sometimes, that slice my heart open in an instant. I won't quote any of those things cause I'm already tearing up and I'm too tired to cry.

Well enough is enough I suppose. I'm being a stroppy cow. I need to pray about my attitude and just keep busy doing something everyday to get me closer to reaching my goals and bettering our life. Someday I'll be able to give my kids the things they need and want, let's just hope it's not when those things are dentures and hearing aids. :P

Oh, and never do I talk about this aspect of my life, with anyone for the most part. But I am honestly beginning to believe I will be single forever. And depending on when you ask me, I'm okay with it. But sometimes, I'm not. Sometimes... I'd like to not always have to be the strong one. I'd like to not always be the one who has to have the answers. Who has to reassure everyone else that it will be okay; we will be okay. I want to be reassured. But that's selfish. And I pride myself on being selfless. So that's all you'll hear me say on that topic.

Sometimes all we can do is chase pavements, even if they lead nowhere...

Changes Galore!

Hello All!

There are a lot of things going on these days. A lot of changes. Some for the better; some not so welcomed. Nonetheless, onward!

So I'm not sure if I should just brush a little on each topic in this blog and then elaborate later (because the second half of that sentence will likely not happen). Or if I should just write a novel now. The problem with the novel now is that I am supposed to be getting ready to go camping. I still have A LOT to do just and since I've just tucked the kids in I should probably be running around doing all that jazz so I can get to bed at a decent time. Hmmm... well I'll just start talking/typing and we'll see where we end up then.

I suppose I'll start with oldest news first. I got fired. lol. That was straight to the point, eh. Very much so not my style, I agree. So that it doesn't sound so tragic I guess I should say I was "let go". But the bottom line is as of Wednesday the 28th I was suddenly unemployed. I knew the company was having a rough time (after all, I am, oops WAS, in charge of all the accounting) with finances. It's a turbo company. Gas prices are so high I choke a little every time I drive by a gas station. I kid you not, it goes up AT LEAST 3 times PER DAY! Ridiculous! Anyhow, people can barely afford to put gas in their vehicles let alone spend several hundred dollars, sometimes thousands, on "unnecessary" upgrades such as turbos. Additionally, most of our sales were to customers who had side hobbies involving rock climbing jeeps or recreational racing. Those people are also not pulling their "toys" out of the garages this summer because they simply can't afford to, let alone upgrade them. So it was understandable that they couldn't afford payroll. Myself and the shop guys were let go while the company gets itself back on it's feet (if that happens remains to be seen). I know that if I'm available when/if they can afford to hire again they would love to have me back. And my boss was quite distraught when he had to sit down and tell me. So there aren't any hard feelings. I was a bit bummed there was not even so much as a warning not to mention a 2-week notice. Oh well. It is what it is. So that's that bit of news. The timing was somewhat of a blessing as it was just a week and two days before the kids got out of school for the summer. So I got a good week at home, just Dion and I, catching up on our time together. And now I've been able to be at home with all of the kids for the last week. I miss it. I miss being a mom. I always wondered what it would be like to go to work. And I found out - it was heart wrenching. But I adjusted; the kids adjusted. We work together well especially when we have little options. But I missed being at home with them. I miss having a clean and organised house. I miss the laundry always being done. I miss dinners - good dinners, sitting down at the table dinners. Not flying low through the drive through on the way home from the sitters. Not standing at the kitchen counter being a short order cook throwing together 4 different meals for each of the kids. I am a homemaker. That is what I love to do, and, if I do say so myself, what I'm very good at. That's not to say people can't do both - work and be excellent homemakers. I can. I did. I'd just prefer not to. Being single and having four kids makes that slightly unrealistic. Okay - that was an understatement. It makes it not feasible. So I've been looking for another job. I have options, which is not the greatest thing to have if you're me because I can be quite indecisive. Don't confuse that with unopinionated by any means. But I'd get advice on what kind of spaghetti noodles to purchase if I could. I still have my foster care license and have received calls for placements, but am, for the first time ever, holding my ground on what I know to be best for my family right now. We can adjust ourselves to a newborn, a medically fragile/special needs newborn is great. But I have had to say no to 18-month-olds, 4 year-olds, and every age in between because it would just not work for our family right now. The kids need my attention. They don't need to compete with a tantrum throwing, toy flinging, out of control 20-month-old drug exposed toddler. They just don't. They are at great ages for traveling and doing things and a newborn is FAR easier to take with us or to find a sitter for than a toddler. But I've been praying about the foster care direction and if I get the perfect call for the right placement I'll know it. If not - onward. I also am scheduled to complete my daycare license application the first week in July. That's an option. Although I just said my kids don't need to compete there is a BIG difference between daycare and foster care. Namely daycare kids go home. We have our evenings and weekends to do with what we'd like when doing daycare. We have holidays. And it's better money than foster care. Although the house situation isn't the greatest it's also not the worst. It's workable. So that's another direction. Other than that there are a few other things that I can do. I'm slightly stressed but have never had any trouble finding work if I needed to before so I have faith... for the moment, for THIS moment more specifically. lol.

Next, I start my summer class on Monday. Physiology. It's completely online and it's with the same school and same teacher as was my Anatomy course that I took last summer and got an 'A' in. I think it'll be okay. I really have to get an 'A' so I'll be busting butt making sure it happens. Plus I like Physiology... much better than I did Anatomy and Chemistry and I got 'A's in both of those, so... hopefully. We'll see. I will be done with my prerequisite this Fall so I am able to apply to the nursing program this August!! YAY! I'll have my AS at the end of the Fall '08 semester. :) Depending on how long I have to wait to get into nursing school I'll finish up my AA in the Spring and then be ready to transfer to Chico State to start working on my BS in Nursing. So if I get accepted into the nursing program right away then GREAT! If not, it's okay because I'll already be working on the rest of the stuff I'll need for when I'm done with the nursing program in order to graduate with a BS. Once I've the BS I can do a couple more years if I want and go on to the program that UC Davis offers to become a FNP (Family Nurse Practitioner). So, although long and difficult... I'm still very much so traveling down this road and am excited about it. The kids are excited for me.

Speaking of kiddos... they are getting SOOOO big!! I sit in awe daily at how fast it is going. Shane is 10 and now officially a 5th grader. He finished the 4th grade with a solid 'B' average, and although we had the discussion over the fact that he is capable of better - his teacher said he was a wonderful student, a hard worker, and very respectful. What else could I ask for? He's well above my shoulder now and I'm sure it'll just be a matter of time before that handsome boy is taller than me. But he knows I can still run faster than he can and will take him out in a heartbeat if necessary so I'm not worried. lol. I'm not worried because he's such a great kid. So sensitive and considerate. He has a tremendous heart and I'm so very proud of the little man he's becoming despite all odds with the example he was dealt. Miss Lacey Mae is now 8 and just flew through the 2nd grade like it was a piece of cake. Her teacher beams with pride every time he talks about how fantastic she is and how effortless 3rd grade will be for Lacey. And thankfully she's such a proud big sister that she very much so "tutors" the younger two girls. And for that let me just tell you how thankful I am!! :) Savannah just graduated Kindergarten and is now a 1st grader! My Savannah Lee!! A FIRST GRADER! What is this?? Warp speed? She's six but her teacher insists she's going to be 12. Savannah is definitely going to be the teacher's pet throughout her school career, but she is still able to remain beyond sweet and helpful so she has all the other kids wanting to be her friend. But she's very humble about it - in fact I don't even think she's noticed what a superstar she is to everyone in her class. Now... how to transfer some of that to Dion. haha! Dion will be embarking on her school career when she makes her Pre-School debut this Fall. I was at the school filling out papers for her the other day and I kept putting down Savannah's information. For some reason, and I won't claim to not know why, but I refused to allow myself to believe my baby girl is going off to school. She is very excited and unlike all other kids on Earth can't wait for summer to be over so she can "doe to schul". Speaking of her speech impediment - she is still going to Speech Therapy twice a week and has astounded her therapist, Lisa, by the rate of speed Dion picks up everything and also how hard Dion works. Lisa wants to keep Dion in the program forever because it gives her something to look forward to twice a week. lol.

Oh, oh... I let all three of the girls get their hair cut. Once the weather started getting warmer they all wanted their hair chopped. I, needless to say, was against the idea. But, in their defense - I am horrible at doing hair. Not because I suck. But because I have no sympathy. I have a hard head - I yank through my hair every morning and don't bat an eye. But the girls seem to have sensitive little scalps and none of them appreciate me mowing through it with a brush every morning. So, to waylay the cries from the girls when I announce it's time to do hair I let them cut it. My friend, Lauren, did it and I think they look ADORABLE!! Not to mention we haven't had a tear shed while doing hair since we got it cut. :)

BEFORE:
Dion Marie (4)

Savannah Lee (6)

Lacey Mae (8)

AFTER:

Wow, this is a novel. Is anyone still with me? lol. There is more, believe it or not. But my back is hurting and all I can think of is the camping gear sitting here and there and everywhere waiting to be packed up and stacked by the front door. So I will bid thee farewell. Thanks for checking in. :) I hope this finds you all happy and healthy. Until next time, God Bless!

~me

The Nineteen Hundreds.

Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ~Elizabeth Stone

Isn't it true, the saying, "Out of the mouth of babes!"? Well I've four babes, albeit growing-like-weed babes, but nonetheless. And if I wrote about EVERY hysterically funny, often emberassing, reality jolting comments my kids made I'd be at my desk all day writing. Oftentimes I don't see that that would be too bad of a thing as my kids have quite the wisdom to bestow upon the world, oh yes they do. lol.

So Sunday night we're lounging around watching t.v. They were all in their p.j.'s and suppose to be in bed but I let them stay up to watch "Deal or No Deal". I'm sitting in the rocking chair with Dion falling asleep on my lap and a Wells Fargo Bank Commercial comes on. You know, the ones with the old fashion horse and wagon running around wildly. The commercial ends and the silence is broken by Lacey Mae, who is now 8 going on 14. She says, "Mom, when you were little like me were there cars yet? Or did you just have horses and buggies? You know, Mom, back in the nineteen hundreds." I sat there for a second, thoroughly confused... I mean up until this point I was always so proud of how brilliant Lacey was. She did everything early. Walked at 8 months. Potty trained at a year old. Was the first one in her class to read. Pretty much has half the Bible memorized. But she wants to know if I was alive THAT LONG AGO!!??! Thanks Lace. As if I already didn't feel old enough. lol. I said, in a full-blown effort not to be condenscending, "Uhm, no, Sweetie. There were cars.". "Oh, ok. I was just wondering." she says. lol.

Perception is an amazing thing when you look through the eyes of children. And actually it becomes an amazing thing when you look through the eyes of anyone else but your own.

Lacey quickly redeemed herself. As she was brushing her teeth a bit later, her little brain OBVIOUSLY at work there at the bathroom sink, she sticks her head out of the bathroom door and into the hallway. I was standing at the kitchen counter. "Mom," she says. I turned around. "Yeah?" I asked, bracing myself for the next BRILLIANT question from my eldest daughter. "Since you know everything, do you know what it is called when you have four babies. I know two is twins. Three is triplets. But what's four?" Ahhhhhh. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, Lacey, I do know.... since I know EVERYTHING. They are called quintuplets. Now finish your teeth and NEVER forget that I know EVERYTHING!! God gives me ALLLL the answers so that I can be the best mom to you. So you should always ask me if you have a question and if I think you need to know I'll tell you and you have to listen to me because I'm your mom and I know EVERYTHING. Remember that." Nearly breaking my arm to pat myself on the back for the quickness and astoundingly brilliant response I managed to come up with, I turned around before she could see me grin. And what do I hear her muffle under her voice as she turns to go back to the sink?? "Suuuuure you do, Mom. Whatever you say. It's YOUR story." Whaaaaaaaaaaat??? Oh no she just didn't!!!!

But yes, she very much so did. And when I paused for a second to fully appreciate the moment, you know - the moment in which you remember CLEARLY telling them the exact same thing some time previously, the moment when you hear your voice coming through their mouths... and I realized, again, as I often do, what a honour and privilege and HUGE RESPONSIBILITY raising these gifts from God is. That it is my hands, my words, my attitude that is molding and shaping these little, short, thieves of patience that I've running around here. And they make me want to try harder. They make me want to make better choices. They make me want to be a better person, a better mother, a better friend.

So, the point of this story is, if any of you are in need of some motivation I rent them out, dirt cheap, catch me on a good day and I'll pay you if you'll borrow them!!!! lol. I jest. I think my point is clear...

"Mmmmmm, tate!!"

So Dion crawled into bed with me this morning and snuggled up in front of me. Both of us on our side, her back to me, she shoved her butt into my stomach until she was nice and ontop of me practically. It was still early but I had to be getting up. I figured I'd lay there till she fell back asleep so I could get ready without her yapping my ear off. After a few minutes I felt her breathing heavy again so I attempted to slide out of bed. She stirred. I said, "I have to get up, Dion. It's time to get ready." She's says (with her eyes still shut) "I'm starbing." Mind you she's a little mini-extremist, don't know where she got that from :P, so she's never hungry; she's either starving or not starving. If I offer her something for a snack she'll say, "No tanks. I'm not starbing." lol. Anyhow, I say, "Well, come on then and get up. I'll get you something." She grins. I'm thinking.. okay, she's still asleep or something. Nope. She's Dion. She says, with her eyes still shut and now smiling, "Tan you bing me thom tate?" I laughed. "Uhmmm, how about no, Dion. You're not having cake for breakfast. Nice try though." Mind you her birthday celebration was Sunday and we've had leftover cake, so ever since then she's either been starving for cake or not starving for cake. So she rolls over, eyes STILL shut, STILL grining, she flings her arm over my mouth.. yes! her little forearm covering my mouth completely, and she says, "Shhh Mom. Jus do id. You tan bing me thom tate, Mom, you tan. Mmmmmm, tate!!!" I died laughing. "Get your arm off my mouth! And I'm not bringing you ANYTHING in MY bed let alone CAKE! Wake your little dreaming butt up!!" I told her. I got up out of bed. She giggled and rolled back over and said, "Fine den. I'm doing bact to seep." Toooooo funny that girl is. Cracks me up 24/7.

Here's her and Savannah's cakes from Sunday:

p.s.~ She's in speech therapy twice a week now. One of her sounds that she can't make, if you couldn't tell, is the "k" sound. "t" replaces "c" and "k" for most words. But she's getting better! She's such a hard worker at it. Personally, I adore her lisp and little speech impediment.

Look! There's Mrs. Burger!

Howdy! That seems like an appropriate greeting as the Round-Up just passed this last weekend and that's what this blog is about. Well not the Rodeo but the Round-Up Parade rather. I took my girls and my younger sister, Addie. It was surprisingly good weather considering the forecast made it seem like it would be miserable, which is often the case during the Round-Up. Every year, as far back as I can remember, it's been cold and rainy. This year was a tad windy and a bit chilly, but the sun was out so it made up for it. Shane didn't go because my dad took him to Cool April Nights in Redding with his cousin Marc. Cool April Nights is an old-fashion car show so it was a "guy thing".

Earlier though, before the parade started, I met Carmen at a pancake breakfast benefit that my grandpa (bless his heart) bought us tickets to. We had all my kids, her kids, and my little sister; that makes 7 kids between Carmen and I: in a packed multi-purpose room, with a BUNCH of cowpeople - mostly older at that. Carmen and I came to the agreement that it should be a universal rule... "People with children should get served FIRST." No if, ands, or buts about it. It doesn't matter if you haven't eaten since the night before and you've puked your guts up since then from drinking a bunch of beer at the rodeo with your shit-kickers on. GIVE THE KID A PANCAKE! Kids don't have patience - at least not at 9 in the morning when they are hungry and want to go to a parade. We survived it though. No spilt juice. No syrup in the hair. No forks on the ground even. All of which spell success when dining with 7 kids from the ages of 2 to 10. And no... we decided against taking any photos to capture the chaotic nature of this splendid meal... you'll just have to imagine how enjoyable it was. lol.

Anyhow, Carmen and her kids went onto Marc's little league game and Shane went with them so he could meet up with my dad later. The girls and I headed to the parade with our chairs. I guess when I was younger I got excited about parades? Maybe? But then you grow up. And a horse is a horse whether it has glitter and bows on it or not. And cars are cars whether you are passing them on the road or they are in a line honking their horns and revving their engines. But not through the eyes of a 6-year-old; it's not the same at all.

Example: The Burger King Float. Huh?? Come again?? Since when did Burger King have a float in a small-town parade? But they did. And guess who made a special appearance? Yep, you guessed it (did the title of the blog give it away any?) "Mrs. Burger" according to Savannah. We're sitting on the corner (never again mind you... by the time I could get a picture all I could see was everyone's ass as they turned the corner. I'm sure you'll notice the theme throughout the pics. Just remember - it's NOT cause Wrangler Butts Drive Me Nuts (cause they don't so much)... it's just because we were sitting on a stupid corner.) So anyway, the corner, we were sitting on it in our chairs, and here comes the Burger King float.

Not the best picture cause all you can see is the back of her head. But trust me on this one - she looked just as ridiculous as he did. Not knowing, however, that the Burger KING was married... Savannah pondered who this lady was for a minute before deciding that it had to be his wife. So she shouts, "Look Mom! There's Mrs. Burger!!" Everyone within hearing distance got a good chuckle out of it. My standard reply, as "Look MOM!!" preceded ANYTHING that came out of all of the girls' mouths for the entire 2 hours, was "Wow. Yeah. I see it." (I tried to convey the enthusiasm via written text. Did it work? Could you visualize my cartwheels?) And of course, after each "Look Mom!!! etc. etc." came "Take a picture!!!" So there it is. However, Lacey wasn't as quick to let the "Mrs. Burger" thing go as I was. She looked to Savannah and nicely, albeit drenched in sarcasm and dipped in a pot of "you stupid idiot", says to Savannah - "Uhmmm, I think you mean Burger QUEEN, Savannah???" haha. Savannah was good enough sport to giggle at herself and say, "Oh yeah, ok, Burger Queen." In Savannah's defense I piped up with, "Either one girls - Burger Queen... Mrs. Burger - I'm sure she answers to either one." :)

We went to the parade last year too. And toward the end there is a float with some old guys on it shooting holes through the tops of straw hats with guns. (Don't ask me why.) And then they hand out the hats with holes in them to people watching. (Again... hmmmm.) Anyhow, Lacey got one last year. And whatddya know... she did this year too. So now we have, not one, but TWO hideously ugly straw hats with holes through the top of them. I wonder how much they would go for on eBay? The guy in the yellow is putting the hat on Lacey's head and that's Savannah's noggin' in the way so you can't see Lacey.

Then... there's Lacey. Obviously quite ecstatic about the fortunate luck she must have to have gotten TWO hats now. (And we won't tell her this, but I think it's hysterically adorable that her crooked front tooth seems to match well with the hat. :P)

Overall, it was a very nice morning. Here are some other random photos:

It was so nice Lacey even had to hold the hair off her neck. lol:

The girls not in their chairs that they had to bring:

Dion on her "perch" so she could see everything and using her hand for a visor:

Addie with a flower that someone gave her:

Savannah and I:

Us:

What's a parade without nasty parade popcorn?:

THE END:

I didn't end up posting all the rear-end shots of everything... you're welcome. :) Here we are walking back to the car. Lacey in her fashion savvy hat and the girls being troopers and packing their chairs.

It's days like these that make all the other difficult ones worth it. I am truly blessed.

I miss them.

"The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness." ~ Honore' de Balzac

"Children are the anchors that hold a mother to life." ~ Sophocles

Hi. I have been meaning to write a blog for the last week now since finding out I got a job. I know it's probably going to be a big surprise to a lot of you, as it was me, because I know I wasn't looking or planning on employment, right. School is still going to be a priority. I will continue on in it but taking fewer units, meaning fewer scholarships and less financial aid, meaning another source of income would be a good idea. This last semester was a big learning experience. 10 years ago and a few kids less and sure... 14 units would be a breeze. But it's really unreasonable for me to think I could do it... or at least do it and do it well... with all the different directions I am going. That is really hard for me to admit to be honest.

So, I would love to tell you about my job as I am really excited about it. It's a blessing, really... considering the circumstances I am very thankful. But I don't feel like talking about it right now. :( Because at the moment I am forcing myself to think positively about the job. Because no matter how many things are wonderful about it... no matter how ideal or a God-send this job is, it takes me from my kids - bottom line. The pros could be 10 pages long and you put missing my kids, more specifically Dion since I can be off in time to get the older kids from school, on the con list and game over. She's my other half. The last three/four years have not been the most pleasant for us, and I'm sitting here crying because I think I am coming to a realization in this very moment through the experiences of this last week, and I think I have put a big burden on my children.

They are my life. They define me. I am nothing and no one if I am not their mother. Is that wrong?

And now I go take them to all of their places in the morning and I go to work and I sit at my desk (actually I'll describe the job to you later as that is not really an accurate description of what I do) and I think to myself, "What now. What is this? Who am I?". I mean, sure I've been away from them here and there before. But fortunately, thanks to technology, I've been able to attend school the last couple years via internet courses and night classes without having to leave them much. And you know what's weird is that even if I were home and the older three were away at school I would still be feeling like I was being their mother; I would be making their beds, washing their stinky socks, stubbing my toe on their toys, cleaning up toast crumbs that were all over the kitchen from breakfast. I'd be cleaning out their hamsters cage that they just HAD to have. And now I don't do that. My house sits here empty and quiet all day and I don't like it. Today was Dion's first day at a new babysitters. I dropped her off and ruined my makeup on the way to work crying about it. She was fine about it. I had to tickle a kiss and squeeze out of her because she was so excited about going. It's a young girl from our church, about 15 I think, who actually taught Dion's Sunday school class for a while. Her name is Jordan and her parents are the Youth Ministry Leaders at Calvary Chapel. I KNOW she is a great girl and her whole family adores my kids so I can't even begin to tell you how much I have thanked God that she is available to watch Dion for me. I did have a laugh when I picked her up today and she told me about her morning. :) Remind me to tell you about it later when my screen isn't so blurry from tears. It has to do with a "phat fuffy tat". lol.

Anyway, grrrr... I guess, like everything else in life, this will be an adjustment and it will take time and we are us so we will make it through and be just fine. Right? You know... this brings me onto another topic I probably shouldn't talk about when I am in this state. But oh well. Mike. I try not to be bitter or talk badly about him. We all have our demons - this, I know. And I will always care about him and his well being. But really, it's moments like these when my heart hurts for my children and all I want is what's best for them and I can't give it to them. I can't because he is selfish and he screwed it all up. Everyone knows how long and hard I tried to save our family. And most importantly... I finally know. I finally realize that I really did do EVERYTHING in my power to salvage the family and the life that I had built and that I had wanted to last forever. And when it shattered into a million pieces I thought I'd never be able to put it back together... but we have and the kids and I are better for it. And I know that if ever God sends a man and a father into our lives he will absolutely be the most appreciated and cherished person to walk this Earth. Should it never happen... we are still okay.

Anyway, that was way off track. The point is... I miss Dion. I miss feeling like a good Mother and homemaker. But it's only been 4 days, it's bound to get easier. But is that such a good thing? I don't want it to get easier. I mean, I do... but I don't. Grrr... I just mean, I don't want to be okay with not being everything my children need - after all, I'm all they have. Hopefully you know what I mean.

"Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see." ~ John W. Whitehead. What will that message be? When my children are grown what will they say about the kind of Mother I was? Was I too busy at work to volunteer in their class like everyone else's mother did? Did we eat take-out too much cause I was too tired to cook? Did they have to wear the same pants two days in a row because I forgot to do laundry? Did I not open my mind to the possibility of finding a responsible man to be a good influence in their lives?

Does every single mom go through this? Just in case they do... I will pray for them, everyday. I will pray their hearts don't hurt as much as mine right now and that they will find the strength to get up and go another day no matter what.

I'll be back soon with a much more pleasant blog. :) God Bless! ~me~

Discovered a great show, I think.

Okay, so I'm in a good mood and am really finding much of everything quite easily amusing this morning. Tell you something you didn't already assume as much from me, right? Shush. :)

So I was at Blockbuster last night letting Shane and his friend that was staying over get a couple Playstation games, because you know the small fortune that I've invested in the stacks of games I've already bought just don't cut it when there is a friend over.... noooooo, we have to go and spend half of what my car costs to rent new video games. So anyway, I was walking around the store talking on my phone (surprise, surprise) and I came across these wall pictures that Blockbuster has for sale in there. There were a row of ones from the tv show, The Office. Anyone watch that? Well I don't. I mean, I've seen bits and pieces of it a few times or saw a commercial for it while watching Dr. Phil or something. (which, that is a lie because I don't even know what channel The Office is on but Dr. Phil is really the only show that I might make time to watch if I know it's going to be a good one... so I just connected the dots. Don't correct me if I'm wrong. ;) Anywayyyyy... so I was reading them to this guy that I was talking to, probably making an ass outta myself, okay - you can stop with the what's new thing, and I was dying laughing. But, because I have absolutely NO ability to retain things of such a useless, albeit hysterical, nature I've forgotten what the posters said. I could call the guy and ask him if he rememebers what they were but he likely doesn't and I don't want to force him to have to admit to not paying attention to my pointless, random rants. Soooo... all that to get to this point... I was Googling quotes from The Office trying to find the one that I thought was so funny... and I haven't found it yet because I got distracted by me laughing so hard... but I have found some other ones. Thought maybe you'd enjoy, and if you don't... fake it! Here they are:

Michael (reading Dwight's complaint): "This morning, I knocked myself in the head with the phone."
Jim: That actually took awhile. I had to put uh more and more nickels into his handset, til he got used to the weight, and then I just … took them all out.

Ok, so that one you have to visualize... think of someone that really annoys you and then picture all the time invested in adding coins to the earpiece of their phone paying off when you take the coins out and they answer the phone next and slam it into their temple. lol. And no, people don't put the phone up to their temple but temple or forehead is funnier than slaming it into their ear... really. Okay, now reread the quote. It's funnier. Trust me.

Dwight Schrute: Okay, first, let's go over some parameters. How many people can I fire?
Michael Scott: Uh, none: you're picking a healthcare plan.
Dwight Schrute: Okay we'll table that for now...

lol. That would probably be me if I were a boss. How many people can I fire when I am supposed to be picking a healthcare plan? lmfao. And I watched a clip online so if you have ever seen the show you'll know how dry and mundane these people are, which makes it even funnier.

Jan: Michael, it has nothing to with your looks, okay? It's your– it's your personality. I mean you're obnoxious, and rude, and, and, and… stupid. And… you do have coffee breath, by the way. And, and, I don't agree about the B.O., but you are very, very inconsiderate.
Michael Scott: So, my looks don't have anything to do with it?
Jan: [sighs] Oh God.

Wouldn't it be great to be able to be brutally honest like that? I'd feel much better. They wouldn't. But how is that releveant really? lol. KIDDING!

Okay, so I've a ton more but I bet half of you are already phoning the Emergency Crisis Center hotline to see if the local looney bin has an avaliable bed. Save yourself some time... they don't.. I checked. What? I needed a vacation! But seriously, it's Red Bluf... they don't. ;)

Lots more stuff to write about... but I got all of my bins of Christmas decorations out this morning and I've no chitlins running around so I am going to exercise my cleaning and organzing and decorating OCD a bit.

Hope this finds you all having a great weekend!!!

xo ~me~

Let the rain fall, I don't care.

Bleugh!!!

So I've been sitting here meaning to write a blog. I've started typing only to delete several times now, which is frustrating as I don't have time to be wasting - generally speaking. So now I have to run to class... well after I shower and take the kids to Megan's... and I don't feel better like I thought a good 72 w.p.m. typing session would do me. I don't really know what will make me feel better, except for time, and that's out of the question because all of my patience is spent on so many other aspects of my life... for parts of my life I just want immediate gratification. I know, selfish and impossible, but I don't remember saying that I was going to be rational or reasonable in this blog, did I? No. Good. :)

Sometimes it seems as though a good long rant about nothing, everything, something, anything... would help to clear my head and maybe bring about a sense of relief or clarity. But probably not. Not for me atleast. Most of you know I can talk circles around you... just imagine for a second all the circles I talk around myself. lol.

Alright, so here's what I've done. I ended up typing again... a whole new speal... that makes three now. lol. But instead of deleting this one I've copied and pasted it elsewhere and just may post it should I still feel the need later. INSTEAD... here my mood swing... lmao...
Life is just fine. Sure, it could be better. But then again, it could get much worse. So I am going to be grateful... for my health, for my healthy children whom I don't have to beat in order for them to be amazingly wonderful because God gifted them to me like that naturally. I am going to be thankful for the headache I have after hours of homework because it means I'm smart enough and blessed enough to have the oppurtunity for an education in which to be able to provide for my kids better. I am going to be thankful for the ache that my heart feels when I miss someone specific because it means I am still capable of genuine care and love despite the wall I thought I had previously built. I will be thankful for the friends that I have because they are amazing and it means I am doing something right in order to have these people in my life.
None of this means I am fake or putting on a front... there are things in my life right now that I would give up a LOT to change... what this means is that I choose to not let it get the best of me. Things that are meant to be will be. And things that aren't will fade away. Either way...

everything is going to be alright.

Anyone who bought all that should pay me... really... that was a LOT of effort. hahaha.

I'm nauseous. That's good though. Better than bing eating out of depression. :) What an ugly cycle that would be.

... more to come...

My view from the peanut gallery.

Homemaking a major at one college

Okay... so this is a little behind the news, I know... but I've been busy; and thank goodness for the old addage that things are better late than never. The clip above is from August 24th... you can watch it now or later or never... whichever you prefer. I saw it when it aired back in August and I sat down at my computer real quick and typed a letter about it. I don't know that I ever really planned on sending it... but I guess, like EVERYTHING else under the sun, I had an opinion on it. So I'll share with you. :) You lucky dog, you! ;)

Keep in mind this was typed out in just a few minutes... because I'm not actually sending it I never took the time to really proofread or format or anything... so just try to follow my infamous rabbit trails. lol.

To: The Today Show


I was watching your show this morning and my ears perked up when I heard the story on the Southern Baptist College that is now offering a degree in homemaking. Despite packing three lunches, loading cereal bowls into the dishwasher, stopping to brush hair and help tie shoes, all the while randomly remembering and adding items to my shopping list on the fridge, I couldn’t help but get slightly offended by your female guest speaker. I’m not including men in this argument as they were not a part of the discussion for this college course. Homemaking is a choice, a lifestyle, something to take pride in and enjoy. According to USA Today 5.4 million mothers are making that decision. It’s amazing how when a tragedy occurs within the youth’s population, whether it be a shoot-out in a school, increased drug use and pregnancy, or just plain disrespect society immediately turns to the parents with millions of fingers asking where “we” were and holding us accountable. Well then what’s wrong with offering education about proven ways to run a successful home and enjoy a productive, less-stressed home life?

I can think of two non-religious clichés about child rearing to help prove my point:
“Children are our future.” Well I know that I want my future to be as bright as possible. And if there is a class out there that teaches me at least one lesson or skill on how to be more self-confident and successful in my role as a parent then I’d take it. I mean… I don’t know about you but I sure as heck did not birth an instruction manual along with each of my four children.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I would love to know how to be a strong tree with healthy branches made of knowledge. Homemakers can be like carpenters… they could go around with one hammer in their toolbox hoping to fix everything they came across by just knowing how to use a hammer, or they could fill their toolbox with the tools and the knowledge of how to use these tools and in what situation each tool works best and be prepared for any situation.

If knowledge is power, and most agree is it, then I would LOVE the opportunity to be the most powerful mom, wife, and homemaker possible by learning the information and gaining the knowledge to be the most productive, efficient homemaker I could be. The satisfaction I get from knowing I raised productive, respectful, healthy children in today’s world; knowing my husband (for purposes of this argument, we’ll pretend I have one – and no, I don’t think I’m divorced because I need this course, lol) can come home to a healthy, home-cooked meal after a hard day’s work and sleep in a clean bed; knowing everyone who lives in my home feels safe and free to be who they are as individuals in a world of judgment – could not be surpassed by any gold nameplate on a door followed by letters like CEO or VP, or any place in the Fortune 500 companies.

If I were to spend money on an education why not make it one as versatile as homemaking? An education that can be used up until the very day I die, and more importantly, one that I can pass down to my children and around to my friends and family. I would love to defend the millions of homemakers that were cheerfully Windexing their television screen, who stopped to rub a bit harder over that critics face, and tell her this opportunity for education isn’t time-warping us back to the 50’s. Contrarily, it’s preparing us for better tomorrow and a sense of security - despite our 5-year-old’s card flips in Kindergarten, our teenagers speeding tickets, the burnt casserole, the falling down stacks of laundry, or our husband’s boot prints or tie left on the ground – that just maybe, we know what we are doing and are one of the best in our chosen field.

Sincerely, A hep-chick in her poodle skirt with pink rollers in baking a pie in the kitchen while listening to Elvis Presley and watching I Love Lucy. ;)