That Time Again...

We got our first snow! It wasn't heavy, but was a beautiful sight just the same.

GATORS RAMMER JAMMER YELLOW HAMMER 2009 SEC CHAMPIONSHIP GA

My team is on to the BSC championship. =-) Rammer Jammer, Yellow Hammer, give em' hell, Alabama!!

What Did You Expect?

My Mother-in-Law purchased tickets to A Christmas Carol for me and Arwen as a Christmas gift. I was incredibly excited, as it's been years since I've seen a play, and couldn't wait to make the trip.

As we walked inside the building, and waited for the doors to open, I saw not one, but two very small infants. Pushing aside what could possibly become a distraction, I took my daughter inside and purchased her a drink that she had to finish prior to taking our seat. All of the ticket holders were told as we entered, "No food or drinks in the auditorium". Yet, when we arrived, we sat next to a women with one of the aforementioned infants. And seated next to her was a child Arwen's age -- gulping down a cup of soda from the concession stand.

Really, I could go into the other things that occurred when the lights went down -- babies crying (and in their defense, with all the loud and unexpected pyrotechnics, I would be squalling too!), children kicking the back of our seat (after being politely asked to stop), food wrappers being opened, cell phones going off -- but I won't. The purpose of this blog isn't to delve into that. Rather, I'd like to address people who feel that my Mother-in-Law's gift (and money) is less important than what they obviously think is their God given right to be assholes.

What is wrong with people? I don't mean to be a downer, but I was flaggerbasted by the adults who brought food and drink into a place they were specifically asked not to. Then to add insult to injury, decided their phone conversations were so damned important they couldn't shut their Motorola off for an hour and a half to spare the rest of us saps a bit of sanity.

Sadly, the bitch within surfaced, and I not only said something to the woman's child who was kicking my seat (who refused to stop after several warnings), but I was also forced to explain to my daughter (within earshot of the child her age and the mother that refused to follow the rules) that some people don't have the sense God gave a cockroach.

It was only after my declarations that the idiots in my vicinity threw away their drinks, chided their heathen children, and allowed my daughter, Mother-in-Law, and me to enjoy the second half of the play in peace. Word to the wise, peeps. You don't want to be called out for being a douche, then don't be a douche! Seriously, what do you expect?

Here are a few pictures. The cast was wonderful enough to pose for pictures and to give autographs. It's a shame they had to perform with cell phones blaring and babies screaming.

My Buddy / Kid Sister

Speaking of old school Christmas gifts...Anyone remember this?

Madness!

December 1st in our home marks the descent into the chaos that is Christmas. That's not to say we don't love the holiday, or that Christmas music isn't blasting from the stereo in the living room all day. Rather, my children are getting older, and that means we are bombarded with gift requests to relay to Santa that don't involve cheap dolls, trucks, or tinker blocks.

When I was a child, I was fortunate to get a couple of the "big" presents I really wanted. But that was before the invention of the super expensive Wii, PS3, and X-Box. Not to mention all those nifty and cool action figures, dolls, and accessories. With four children, that Christmas list begins to look more and more like a credit card statement.

Now I understand why my parents detested those commercials that sank their teeth into us and had us begging for the latest and greatest Care Bear.

Back On Track?

Hello World! Long time no see, huh?

The drama in my family hasn't gone away, but I'm relieved to say the court portion of it all is over and done with. Now we have to focus on the children and counseling. So, that's that.

If I can, I'm going to visit and catch up on some blogs this weekend. I went over to see Susan and I plan on hopping to a few others as time permits.

The kiddos are doing great. I've added a few pictures below. I hope everyone had a fantastic Thanksgiving!

Long Time Gone

Hello Everyone!

Wow, I've really neglected this blog and I must confess something - I feel terrible about it. I suppose honesty is the best policy so here goes. The truth is, I know I can't talk about the one thing I want to most here - the ongoing dispute with my Mother.

The court date looms, each day bringing it closer. That's all well and good but knowing I will soon face the woman behind all this madness has gotten me in a frazzled state, and I know I'll turn to this venue to work out my demons.

When this ugliness is all said and done, I'll return to my normal routine. I plan on checking on everyone's blogs this week and apologize now for not doing so. I suppose a selfish part of me doesn't want to make this harder and by visiting everyone I know because I'll miss them all the more and will have to start over from scratch.

I know this is just a blog. I know I only know most of you via comments shared. But the way I feel about you, your families, and your shared experiences is something I take very seriously. I've tried to find appeasement by working my rear off (the writing is going remarkably well) but it's hollow in comparison.

This should all be said and done (God willing) by the end of October. Any and all prayers are appreciated.

Shocked...

I just got the news today...Both of my stories (submitted to separate publishers) have been accepted for online publication and Print on Demand.

I'm absolutely speechless and stunned. I'll keep you updated on the release dates.

1,000

This is my 1,000th post.

Wow.

Huzzah!!!!

Let's celebrate with a GOOD Mom Confession, shall we? This one goes back to the days I was still fertile, but just roll with it.

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Even though it was obvious I was sexually "experienced", I was STILL embarrassed about purchasing contraceptives during check-out at Hell-Mart with my four wildebeest children in tow.

.

I don't know what the cashier thought when she came across the box of condoms hidden between the Frosted Flakes and Lucky Charms. But since my oldest child was climbing into and out of the cart, her brothers were attached to each of my legs, and the infant was clawing and grasping at my head, I think it was something along the lines of:

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"Lady, you've started protecting yourself WAAAYYYY too late."

Hang Ten...or Fifteen...

Back to the normalcy (or what is normal for me) of my blog. It's a topic all of us, both male and female, can relate to. It's something that comes with age. Mother nature's way of reminding us about the inescapable things in life...

Like aging.

Metabolism, where oh where have you gone? Once upon a time you were good to me. I respected you, and in turn, you gave me a broad leeway. We had a great understanding and rapport then. I always knew when to back off the sweets and treats and you rewarded this with leniency and a wistful smile.

Now, you laugh at my offering, padding me up like a thanksgiving bird in preparation for the big day. I don't have drumsticks, I have ham bones. And the harder I try to please you, the more you mock me.

Now the stair climber and weighs are beckoning, promising to do what my body refuses to.

Exercise...Damn it, I got enough PE in high school.

Pictures

I know it's been forever since I've posted any up. A few of these are older (end of school year and Easter) but you can see how everyone's grown.

And yes, Annabel is a total ham - and she knows it.

Shhhh! I won't tell if you won't...

Technically, I'm breaking a counselor rule here. I'm not supposed to discuss my Mother or the things going on with her. I'm supposed to journal "privately"...but where is the fun in that??

So...two weeks ago Jimbo and I flew out to Colorado Springs for business. It was a trip for his company, and aside from a plane ticket, it was free. It was the first time we've been alone like this in 5 years (since Logan was born) and we couldn't wait. We arrived ready to relax and immerse ourselves in one another.

Oh, and we were also there for something else - to make a solid decision and time frame on when we would re-involve ourselves with my Mom.

Then it happened...

On the second day of the trip, Tuesday to be exact, we got the call from his Mother who was staying at our home to babysit the children. My Mother got an attorney and were were "served". She's suing us for grandparent visitation.

There is a TON going on right now, as you can probably imagine. She has refused time and time again to give me time to deal with the emotional aspects of what she's done, refused to give me space to find common ground. Instead she's chosen to proceed as she always does - as SHE wants.

It's actually sad but fitting that she chose to do this. Jimbo said she was walking the line and if she tried something like this, he was done with her. While she's my Mother, she put this upon herself. We didn't start this, ask for this, or encourage this - but we will see it to fruition.

We have an attorney and she should have gotten the news by now - we fully intend to fight her in court.

It's a mess, a heartbreaking one, and something that never had to happen.

Summertime

Summer is here...

And out goes my sanity.

It's cool. I have the hubs on speed dial, 911 programmed into the phone, and a bottle of Valium with my name on them.

I'm going to be visiting blogs today to say hello to everyone (I have missed you greatly) as soon as my children are down for a nap (huzzah!). Then, I'm vegging out on the couch and enjoying the silence while it lasts.

Summertime = the school system's reminder of why you don't mind paying those tax dollars for a quality (or not so much, depending on region) education.

Quick Update

I am not dead, even though you may think so. I've just been so busy I can't find time to do the simple things in life - like resting for more than 5 minute intervals.

The end of school means IEP meetings galore. Logan has to meet with Gleenwood for his new evaluation, that means more meetings. Vincent has meetings about his speech therapy. Arwen has meetings because she continues to get into trouble at school.

Then I have all of these doctors appointments (hyperthyroid again, blah), problems with the van (fixed), and all of the other stuff that comes in life.

Wanted to drop by and say hello. I've missed the blogosphere. I've missed reading about everyone. Hope you all are well. And I hope to be able to blog when this settles (school is over in one week and while I'm glad the meetings will end, it means it's me v/s 4 children - EEK!!)

Susan Boyle - Singer - Britains Got Talent 2009 (With Lyrics)

This gave me goosebumps.

How do you punish this?

I'm livid, furious, angry. I could rip out my hair, scream at the top of my lungs, punch a wall or the nearest tree. Thank god I managed to control myself and only let those volatile emotions come through in the form of screaming.

My 7 year old daughter just decided to climb into the window via the assistance of my curio cabinet. Nestled atop this cabinet are the Windstone Unicorns I've amassed as gifts over the years (for those not familiar with them, the cheapest one is the baby and starts at $60. The others range from $80-150) as well as numerous unicorns, music boxes, and gifts from friends and family.

Of course the curio tipped, it's not meant to be used a climbing device. I was just pulling the crock pot down to prepare a roast for dinner when I heard the crash. When I arrived to the scene all of the Windstones (minus the baby one) were destroyed. The most treasured in the bunch (pictured above) and my favorite was broken into over a dozen pieces. The things inside didn't fare much better and I had to pull a garbage can from outside and throw away things that are tied to certain events in the past (christmas, an anniversary, a birthday as a child).

The thing is, after I was done railing at my daugther and had begun cleaning up the mess I calmed enough to tell her, "After this I expect a good report from school from you". She responds with, "If I'm good do I get to go to Wal-Mart and get a toy?"

My 7 year old has zero remorse for what she's done and I think the only thing worse than losing these things I adored is the fact that my child seems absolutely oblivious (or uncaring) for what she's done.

I'm open to advice here. What would you do?

Garbled

Today went well but was tough.

New ground rules for me have been established, including this one - I can no longer blog about my Mother but have been asked to do so in a private journal.

There are other rules of course, such as working out daily, going to bed at a routine time each night, making a point to spend "quality time" with the children and my husband doing family activities, and most importantly - focusing on the numerous ways to begin removing this taint that has stained my life and slowly drained me of my identity over the last thirty years.

I just wanted to let everyone know I'm okay and I'm hanging in there. I'm just extremely tired - physically and mentally...and emotionally.

You Just Don't Get It

Today I was rushing around the house frantically, attempting to dress myself and Vincent before his appointment with the Urologist. As I'm running from the living room and up the stairs the phone rings.

It's my Father, with another "message" from my Mother.

She's decided out of the blue that she would like to "eat lunch with Arwen today".

I told my Father no, and he became very uncomfortable, explaining my Mother has it "in her head" to see her "Grandbabies" because she just "loves them" and if I don't allow her to see them she is "taking me to court".

I told my Father to inform my Mother to contact an attorney because I already have (well, kinda!) and that I'd be more than happy to see her in court. I then told him if she doesn't piss off I'm going to file the protection order against her crazy ass.

The appointment to meet with the counselor on Saturday CANNOT get here fast enough. Each time the phone rings now my gut clenches and I feel sick. I can't sleep, can't focus, can't relax.

I have to say, this new found clarity in regard to my Mother is unsettling. For the first time in my life I'm actually "seeing" how manipulative (and narcissistic) she is versus making excuses for her behavior or overlooking it.

Seriously, it's not even been three weeks and she can't even honor my request to leave me alone until I've spoken with someone.

Unstable much - Mom?

And the Sickness Marches On...

I was up all night last night with Logan. His asthma is kicking in, his tongue bright red and full of tiny red bumps. Each time my head hit the pillow and I started to dream, I was awoken again, my clumsy feet leading the way into his room, until I collapsed into a wadded ball at the end of his bed.

I get up from the fetal position this morning and notice a HELLA rash on Annabel. Her tiny leg is covered in bumps and new ones are forming on her hands and arms.

I pack Arwen off to school (fully medicated and on the mend).

One trip to the Doctor confirms - throat infection, and ear infection x2 for Logan. Infentigo for the baby girl.

Right now Jimbo is the only family member not currently taking (or having partaken via shot) an antibiotic.

And all I want is some sleep.

The longest call...

Today I took life by the balls, calling up the counseling services provided by Jimbo's employer. It was one of the most difficult calls I've ever made, placing myself bare and raw across a phone line to someone I've never met and don't know.

The girl on the other end was very nice, listening attentively and taking down my information. She referred me to someone in my area and I had to make yet another call - this time leaving a message that I realize now was garbled and difficult to understand.

Hopefully the counselor managed to salvage my phone number from within the confines of the rambling message and will call me back to arrange an appointment.

On one hand, it's terrifying. On the other - it's one HELL of a relief.

In Living Color - Delta Airlines Ebonics

Okay - this is SO not politically correct but I laughed my ass off. Go ahead, flame away, but I dare you not to chuckle!

I'm not depressed!

I took a trip to see my family doctor. She's still new to me but so far I like her. She gets the "girl" thing better than my male physician did previously. I was certain she would understand my need for a medication to get me through this short period of stress in my life. Considering everything that has transpired.

I told her everything - minus my nice imparting words to my sister - and she listened thoughtfully. I explained I didn't want a long term medication, just something to ease the way for the next few weeks. I've been unable to sleep, I'm edgy and nervous, and it's slowly taking a toll.

She tells me she'll, "put something together that will work for me", and then leaves the room. When she returns she hands me a sample of Lexapro and a prescription for it as well.

Let me just say I think Lexapro is an awesome antidepressant. I used it for several months after Annabel's birth. It got me through a really difficult time and I praise it's gloom eclipsing glory.

BUT.

I am not depressed.

And this isn't the first time I've had someone try to pawn off a medication like this for anxiety. (When I was busting my balls, working a two jobs and attending college full-time, my 'then' doctor tried to do the exact same thing.)

I suppose she worries depression might follow and it's simply smart thinking on her behalf. But what in the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime while I'm still losing sleep and I have an occasional but debilitating panic attack?

For the first time in my life, I demanded something for my nerves. I've never, EVER, told a Doctor to prescribe me something before. But I knew that if my family contacted me, I would need something more than Lexapro to smooth the way. She didn't like it but complied with my request and gave a prescription for Xanax.

For those of you that read the blog, especially if you deal with anxiety like this, do you have to ask for something to keep you from losing your shit during stressful periods? Was I wrong to tell her the Lexapro is well and good but I just don't need it?

Get out of Jail Free Card

When she smiles at me, I forgive her anything.

OKLAHOMA "People Will Say We're In Love"

Everyone has one romantic movie they can't get enough of, one they go back to time and again, and Oklahoma is mine. I fell in love with Gordon MacRae in middle school and have loved him ever since.

Anyhow, this is one of my absolute favorite songs from the musical.

"That" kind of Person

So today I go into the Neuro's office and the nurse notices the tattoo on my forearm (it's new, got it a few weeks ago) and says, "Well, look at you with a tattoo. You don't look like that kind of person."

This got me to thinking, what does a "tattoo person" look like? Truth be told, when I didn't look like one to her observant eyes, I had three. Sure they are all in nifty locations on my body that make them difficult to see, but they still exist.

So tell me, what does a "tattoo person" look like? Do I need a Harley, set of leathers and a couple of piercings?

Let's talk about Sex

This is the last blog entry of the day, I've just been retaining this stuff while on bed rest with strep.

I spoke with the editor regarding my book last week and those necessary revisions on the road to publishing. And, while I'm open to shifting things around, the changes aren't exactly what I had in mind.

The truth is this. My book, while technically a romance, doesn't include sex. The story focuses on the developing relationship between the hero and heroine and the obstacles that come between them rather than the actual - "bumping of the uglies".

Which brings me to the problem at hand. I was asked to include a "consummated love scene" into my story.

I won't go into too many details, other than to say the story has a sequel and in it the the star crossed duo make love for the first time. But I will confess my sadness that times have changed so much sex is necessary to sell what is essentially a "love" story.

You can have love without sex - right?

Really? I didn't know that!

Jimbo walks into the room holding our new laptop. He has it braced under his arm, fingers wrapped around the bottom.

"Hey baby," he says, walking over to me.

"What's up?" I ask, spinning around in the chair.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but when you carry the laptop, carry it like this." He models his hold and then maneuvers it around, clutching it with just his fingers. "Don't carry it like this, you know, just in case."

I stare at him and then smirk. "Really, I would never have thought of that."

I love my husband, but sometimes he can be really stupid.

A Delicate Matter

I've avoided blogging about this because...well...it's personal. Not for me but for my youngest son. After some contemplation I decided he will be none the wiser if I blog about this topic and honestly, I need to vent.

For the last year, we've had issues in potty training. When Vincent turned 4 the hubs and I pretty much knew it was "time" for him to get with the program. But all of our bribes, all of our encouragement, all of our everything - just didn't work.

In the last couple of months he's reverted to "holding it". You'll see him on the floor making odd motions, grabbing himself, and generally bringing attention to the matter. Yet when we take him to the toilet he'll let out a small amount of urine and say "all done", refusing to relieve himself. After several hours, he'll be in agony, holding myself and crying. Most of the time I'm forced to place him into a tub of warm water to force the issue and get him going. Then he'll release a fountain that cannot be contained (it's even worse if by some chance this let down occurs and he's in his pull-up).

The doctor arranged for an ultrasound today to check his little kidneys and waterworks. He was a little champ during the procedure and on the trip home. I just hope they can tell me what is going on with my son. It's terrible as a parent to watch your child in agony but being unable to alleviate it.

Blah!!

Started as a moderate sore throat, then became a fever. I was up all night because I could no longer swallow without excruciating pain.

After a trip to the Doc in a box it's official - I have strep throat.

The doctor swears the shot in my rear will take effect and I'll be much better tomorrow. Please lord make it so!

P.S. Forgot to mention, my boys had to visit their pediatrician Thursday - they have it too. You know what they say - the family that germinates together, stays together!

O.M.G.

Got an email today, from the publisher, and included was this sentence:

If you would be willing to do revisions and resubmit directly to me, I would be happy to consider your story for publication.

I never knew being so happy could make someone feel so sick.

I'll keep you posted!

The Snuggie

Hate to break it to you but I already have a "snuggie". It's called my robe. *wink*

The "Book" Situation

I realized today while overlooking my blog that I never told you what became of the interest in my book. The truth is - I don't know. The editor wrote to tell me she's still reading and will get back to me as soon as she is able (had a death in the family).

To be honest, I went back and read the material and *hides* I don't like it. I'm not sure why...I just don't.

However -

I wrote another story after the first was complete and polished it up, sending out queries to a few agents and publishers. I was asked for a synopsis and the first fifty pages a little over a week ago by one of the agents at the top of my list.

So...

I have a feeling this is going to be a long and tedious process, but compared to the family drama I've had going on, it'll be cake.

Guilty Pleasure

We all have one. Something that just puts a leap in your step and a smile on your face. This is my guilty pleasure...

What's yours?

So far, so Good

Yesterday went off without a hitch(with the exception of Arwen and she's doing well). It was a relief, but I don't know how long this calm will hold before the storm. Thank you everyone for your well wishes and support. Sometimes just knowing other people understand makes you feel like less of an anomaly.

Tania - to answer your question - this is more than ongoing. Since the birth of our second child, there has been tension in the family. It boils down to one thing really - control. My Mother wants total control when it comes to my children. She wants to decide when she gets them (without notice), where she takes them (without prior consent from us), and how long she keeps them (she'll drop them off when she is good and ready). That is the root of the problem, along with Jimbo's refusal to allow this to continue.

I didn't blog about it but the day before my Aunt passed away my Mother pulled the shame old garbage. She showed up at my home unexpectedly (while Jimbo was at work I might add) and told me she'd made a doctor's appointment for Annabel for her skin (she's got eczema too). At the time I had a stomach bug and told her we'd have to reschedule (and to be fair, I didn't feel my daughter needed to go to the doctor). She forced the issue, threatening to take Annabel by force if she had to. At that point I told her to leave and explained I didn't feel well to start. So she pulled her favorite threat from her pocket, "I call the police and report you for neglect!"

Long story short - I guzzled some Imodium for the upset tummy and made the trip. And guess what? The doctor said Annabel was absolutely FINE and nothing was wrong with her.

I decided after that incident I didn't want her around anymore, but then Laura died. Her unexpected and untimely passing reminded me of just how little time we are given in this world, and I forgave but didn't necessarily forget.

Now this has happened.

To be 100% honest here, I think my Sister and Mother are suffering from a chemical imbalance. Their elevator doesn't go to the top most of the time.

I can't recall the number of times my Sister has called here complaining my Mother did this or that (her arguments always revolve around money. My Sister is currently in the market for a new vehicle but as she doesn't work, she expects my Mother or her fiance's family to provide for her) and then spends an hour whining about how bad she has it or how wrong it is my Mother purchased something new for herself when, "I need a new car!"

Did I mention my Sister currently drives a 2003 Lincoln Navigator?

There are many differences between us but I'll name a few so you get a general idea of the seperation.

I cook - they eat the fast food window. I do laundry - they purchase new clothes to avoid it. I am on a budget - they are constantly struggling with money. I stay at home with my kids - they are always on the road somewhere. I shop for my clothing and such at Target - they both have credit cards to various stores in the mall.

And then you have the big difference. They'll say and do whatever it takes to get what they want. They don't care if they hurt your feelings in the process. In fact, if they are angry enough, that's exactly what they go for - the gut. Nothing is sacred.

Strep Throat

Arwen woke up this morning and I inspected her skin. The rash she had wasn't necessarily worse but it wasn't better either. I decided to take her into the pediatrician just to be safe and it's a good thing I did.

Turns out she has strep throat (a first in our home) and the strep in turn has caused her eczema to flare into infintigo. She's fully medicated and on the mend but keeping her apart from the other children for a full week is going to be impossible.

Fun stuff.

Rough Night

I slept horribly. Each time I closed my eyes it was the same thing - reliving the events that transpired hours beforehand.

I went back and re-read my previous post. In retrospect, it seems very Jerry Springerish. Fighting with relatives as an adult. I always imagined I might have issues in my life with my marriage, not with those I have been surrounded by a good portion of my life.

My poor Father is also feeling the sting. My Mother is terrified we are going to press charges and she will "lose her security clearance". So early this morning she got dressed (along with my Sister) and drove up to the court house to make sure Jimbo didn't go up there to file something against her. What's laughable (insert sarcasm here) is that Jimbo also has to have clearance for his job as well. I suppose it's fine if he loses his income because of her antics but her livelihood off limits.

I don't know which is worse. Her total lack of regard of our needed income (if he loses his clearance we're in the shit) or the fact she's so mental she actually drove up to the court house this morning on the off chance he was going there. By the way, doesn't that classify as a form of harassment? Or is it considered stalking?

I told my Father we are not pressing charges but she needs to leave me the hell alone. I told him I can't take it anymore. He agrees that would be best for all involved.

So...

Right now I'm in a dark place. I don't know what to do. I'm seriously considering contacting someone to go talk to. I've never spoken with someone before (i.e. counseling) but right now I need to let this out.

I'm tired of being afraid and of being cornered and threatened, and I'm tired of worrying something might happen to my Mother or Sister and I'll regret losing that time we could have "gotten along" because I put a fork in them.

But sometimes you have to concede and accept that this is the way things have to be. Right?

Birthday Hoedown at the Ponderosa

Picture this if you will:

Me in my driveway.

Make-up - impeccable. Hair - wet and wild. Dressed in nothing but a robe. Slurs are being uttered, insults flung, anger peaks and my big red button signal blares. I lift my arms, extending both hands, creating impossibly proportioned and balanced "bird" fingers. Then I open my mouth and scream wildly - "FUCK YOU!"

Now, for the rest of the story...

My day started out great. Spent time with the family, decided at 2:00pm. to get ready to go out with hubs and kids for pizza and possibly a movie. Approx 2:35pm my Mother, Sister, and 18 month old niece arrive with a gift for me. I thank them, we talk. My oldest daughter begins to complain that she, "wants to go with granny". This behavior persists. My Mother notices rash on daughter, says she will "take her to the clinic". I give the okay BUT insist I must talk to Jimbo first.

I go down the stairs and the hubs says, "No, if our daughter is going to an unknown clinic, we need to take her ourselves." I tell him I will tell my Mother no. He sighs and says "forget about it." I tell him again I will tell her no and he says, "No, your Mother will only do what she wants to anyway."

My Mother hears this and proceeds down the stairs.

An argument erupts, Jimbo remains seated and tells my Mother to leave. She doesn't. I take my niece from her arms and tell my husband and Mom to take it outside. He asks her to leave again, she doesn't. She begins insulting Jimbo, calling him a "control freak" and other insulting and reprehensible things. He reacts as she intended, stands and walks to her. I turn away, watching the argument unfold from the reflection of the television screen.

My Mother lunges at my husband and he reacts defensively, throwing out his hands to grasp her shoulders. She falls to the ground and I spin at the same time, averting my eyes from the screen and searching for her directly, worried that she's hurt herself.

Then I see it.

My Mother is staring at me with this expression of pure terror and violation - wanting me to believe that my husband is responsible for her accident, insinuating that he hit her. Jimbo backs away, hands raised, yelling all the while, "I didn't touch her!" even though I know he didn't, even as I know he didn't do anything wrong. My Mother continues staring at me, waiting for me to react, to lash out at Jimbo.

What I say next wipes that victimized look from her face.

"Mother, he never touched you. I was watching everything from the reflection of the television."

She lurches to her feet in outrage, stomping up the stairs. My sister hollers "where is my baby!" I hurry up the stairs and say, "she is here", handing her over. My Mother whips around, raging at me for not defending her against my husband. When I tell her directly that he never touched her she admits she tripped, but then proceeds to say, "but he had no right to touch me!"

As if her striking him was an appropriate response and defending himself was abhorrent.

As I go into the kitchen, my Mother and sister lash out. I walk forward, toward the door. My sister's swing misses me - barely. I argue with them and tell them to leave. My sister comes at me again, only to retreat after a solid kick has sent me into the dining room, "I have my baby in my arms, Jaime!"

They go into the garage, rushing outside. "We'll see you in court", my Mother says. Then my sister calls me worthless, a pill head, a piece of shit sister and daughter that cares more for her husband and his family than she does her own. Then she threatens me with DHR.

"I'm calling DHR, you just wait!"

My threshold breaks. My very own sister is throwing my biggest fear into my face - the future of my children.

And she knows it.

My body heats and I lose my collective shit. I lift my hands, let the winged angels fly, and scream, "FUCK YOU!". Then I inform my sister I need to change into my clothes, but if she wants a piece of my action, I'll be right down in a minute.

She calls me a coward as she slides into my Mother's car with her infant in tow and she and my Mother blessedly leave my home.

My birthday was shit and it's not the first one my toxic family has ruined. But you know what I've decided?

It's the last.

P.S. I called the police and filed a report. I won't take this shit. Not anymore.

Another Birthday

This year, instead of focusing on the dreaded "age" factor, I'm going to remind myself of all the reasons to be grateful. I'm still here, surrounded by those I love most in my life. I woke to a decorated table with homemade cupcakes, a boisterous surprise yell from the kiddos, and a kiss from the hubs. We're taking the kids out for lunch this afternoon and possibly a movie together.

What more could a gal ask for? I'll settle for being lucky enough to experience the exact same thing next year.

Email!

One last post for the day.

For those of you I've emailed (Tania is the exception! She's already hip to the new way to contact me) I've changed my email.

So if you've emailed me in the last 4 months *blush* I've missed it! I had to change it to something easier for people to remember and to alleviate all the spam I was receiving (over 20 or more per day!)

If you want my new email, just post to this and I'll comment on your blog and you can just erase it afterward.

Logan's Birthday

Granted, this video is older (August 19th of last year, Logan's 5th birthday), but it makes me smile.

How Much?

I just noticed something today. Something totally random that got me to thinking...

How many of you -

Use tons of shampoo instead of the recommended "dime sized" amount?

Leave your conditioner on for 15 seconds instead of a minute and rinse?

Say to hell with measuring and drink your Pepto Bismol directly from the container?

Gurgle the Listerine as long as your scorching gums and mouth can take it (generally 10-15 seconds for me) instead of the suggested 30?

Use a "handful" of toilet paper, irregardless of the reasons for your visit to the throne?

Slosh whatever amount of detergent you desire into the washing machine, be it one item of clothing or a entire load?

Don't preheat the oven but just plop whatever item of food you need baked into the stove and hope for the best?

Anyone else guilty of this? Or am I just a rebel?

Circus Pictures

Wow, thanks for the love girls (Shelley,Rae,Tania!) I've missed you too. Here are the photo's from the circus. I'm battling a gnarly stomach virus at the moment, so I'll blog more when I'm not rushing to and from the porcelain god!



That last photo cracks me up by the way (was taken after the circus when we took the kids to Pizza Hut). I'll take a few new ones of Ms. Annabel to share too. She's grown so much!

Special Needs

My poor blog has gone to the toilet, but it's not my fault - well, not completely.

The last couple of months have been focused on preparing Logan for kindergarten. We've quizzed, colored, prepped, sang, danced, and worked with his teachers to get him as prepared and able as he can be. Yet even with the educational requirements being met and knowing our son is more than ready for the academic portions of school, his social interactions and stimulus behaviors are still a concern.

We met for his second semester conference and I knew what was coming. I'm his Mother. I see him get excited by loud noises or images. I know that he'll flap his hands, hit the top of his head, spin in circles, or just plain squeal in delight. Jimbo on the other hand, took it hard. And I understand. This is our son and as much as we love him (and always will) he continues to stay in a certain place developmentally while his younger siblings pass him by.

But like it or not, Logan just isn't ready to be integrated into a public school system without an aide present to assist him.

No big deal, right?

I wish.

Since this new stimulus package by Obama has cut school funding, the aide present at the public school Logan would attend was "let go". So we have no other option but to place him into a program inside a public school (aka special education) with the facilities and funding to give my son exactly what he needs.

Hopefully, he will be given the opportunity to attend the kindergarten classes and will only be removed when absolutely necessary. The goal is to prepare him for first grade at his home school next year, but I'm not thinking that far ahead. Right now is difficult enough.

On a positive note, we took the children to the circus again this year. We had a blast. There is no better feeling in this world than observing awe through the eyes of your children. I'll try to get the pictures cropped and edited and share a few.

Number on the Fridge

Tuesday morning I was sitting in the love seat, sipping on my must have cup o java. The sun was shining, the temp outside my window a nice and cool 57 degrees. The skies were clear, the birds were chirping, and it seemed all was right with the world. Then the phone rang, and what started out as a potentially awesome day turned to shit.

My Aunt had passed away the night before from a massive heart attack.

This was a woman I adored from the first time we met. I was an idealistic 9 year old at the time, still trapped in that middle ground between youth and young adulthood. One that adored horses so much her bedroom walls, shelves, and ceiling was adorned with figurines, posters and stickers of the four legged creatures.

So naturally, when I met my Uncles new girlfriend Laura, a fellow horsehound and kindred spirit - I was in love. And strangely, so was she. I would go visit my Dad each weekend (parents were divorced) and would ask the minute I set rear inside his massive red Chevy truck "are we going to see Aunt Laura?" He used to tease me by asking, "do you come to visit me or her on the weekend?"

I spent several summers on her farm, chasing the horses in the pasture, pestering the pigs and chickens around the house, and sometimes I'd just climb into the loft of the barn and soak in the delicious scent of sweet feed that permeated the entire place during the summer.

It was a magical time, and at the center was Aunt Laura.

She did other things for me through the years, bestowing gifts every little girl dreams of, like a pony with a big red bow in the front yard for Christmas (I was 10) but the thing I loved best about her was the way I could talk to her about anything. She never treated me like a child, never acted as if I were inferior because of the fifteen year age gap between us.

Then one day Laura decided her partying days with my Uncle and his crew had come to an end, and shortly after, they broke up. It was devastating, but I understood. She'd been abusing narcotics for years and I was proud of her for making the difficult choice and getting away from the lifestyle.

She cut my Uncle from her life but not me, and I truly believe the reason I didn't dally in the drug infested culture that is high school was a direct result of watching the suffering she endured to get clean.

Then, around 12 years ago, she met and married a man. She soon became pregnant and had a child of her own - Mikaela Lee. I continued to call and visit when I could but her old man didn't care for the reminder of her previous relationship (aka me) and eventually, we fell out of touch.

A few months ago, I got a call from my sister, along with Laura's telephone number. She had bumped into her at a gas station and she'd asked about me. I jotted the number down on one of the school calendar's on the fridge, intending to call after supper was eaten and baths were taken care of - but it didn't go according to plan. By the next morning, I was packing kids off to school, preparing lunches, and I totally forgot about the number on the fridge.

And now, I'll never get to make that phone call.

Space in the Middle

I've been a terrible blogger. I apologize. All I can offer as a weak defense is it's been crazy here, especially with the little bitty baby I've offered to help care for. I figured another little person in the mix wouldn't hurt...what was I smoking?

So now to the anomaly I was introduced to last night, something Jimbo assures me is completely normal behavior for guys.

Last night we went to see Underworld Rise of the Lycaon's (awesome by the way) and for the longest time we were all alone in the theater. About 10 minutes before it started three men come in together, stepping into the middle aisle to pick their seats. Since I was bored, I watched with a passing interest, frowning in confusion when they sat down with an empty seat left purposely between them.

At first I thought they must have girlfriends in the ladies room, but as time dragged on with no sign of their women, I knocked shoulder's with Jimbo and whispered "what's up with those guys and the empty seats?"

He grinned at the question and told me, "Men don't sit next to each other at the movies."

And what do you know, before the movie starts, another two men came in and did the same thing.

So what's up with this phenomenon? Are guys afraid if they sit next to another male in a darkened room they might somehow contract homosexuality? Or is it just an unwritten rule that I can't comprehend because I have different chromosomes?

I have to say, the best part of the night was when the trailer for this new flick called "I love you, Man" previewed. It's about a man that's getting married but has no guy friends and he has to start going on man date's to procure a best man. The portion of the trailer where one date leans in and gives Paul Rudd a little something extra at the end of the night was particularly excellent. I could see all of the men with seats spaced out squirming.

Space it out all you want hombre's. The movie screen will reveal your insecurities - every time!

Guts Or Balls?

My sister sent me this and I had to share...

Guts or Balls? There is a medical distinction. We've all heard about people having guts or balls, but do you really know the difference between them?In an effort to keep you informed, and to alleviate further confusion, the following definitions are listed below:

GUTS - Is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: 'Are you still cleaning,or are you flying somewhere?'

BALLS - Is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the balls to say: 'You're next, Chubby.'

HALLELUJAH

This is the most amazing version of this song I've ever heard, it gives me goosebumps.

After about the twentieth listen, I had to share!