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.

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.

When it rains...

We've had a stroke of bad luck recently and it just seems to keep going...

The air conditioner isn't just broken, it's totally beyond repair. We are looking at 3,000 dollars worth of new equipment and labor.

The siding continues to deteriorate. It's beyond any hope and it's going to cost 25,000 dollars plus to replace and pay for the labor.

Jimbo's truck still isn't running, he will have to continue driving the Camry. We were so happy to have a fully paid off vehicle with under 100,000 miles...but it's at 94,000 now...

The kiddos need new clothing, which means $300-500 dollars is immediately gone from our stimulus check. When you add the $1000 we've decided to put back for the children's Christmas and the $500 for new school clothing and supplies - that leaves nothing over.

Both of the vacuum's have died. The house has been growing filthier by the day and now we have to buy a new one.

The internet has been on the blitz and finally died yesterday. We had to have someone from our DSL company come out. Since it was from our end (router not directed to the PC) we have to pay a $75 service charge.

The virus that my other hard drive got? Well it's NASTY and I may or may not get my pictures off of it before it's reformatted. This is totally my fault for not backing them up on CD and I could slap myself.

I'm having to struggle with the decision to go ahead with the MMR vaccine for both Annabel and Logan (his second round). I know people say there is no link to autism and the vaccinations but when you have an autistic child..any risk is a risk I'm not willing to take.

I feel so out of control and overwhelmed. It's hard not to worry. I've discussed getting a job but the truth is we live so far out of town that anything part-time won't even break the surface in terms of helping out.

I hope there is a light just over the horizon for us. We really need it. My saving grace has been my wonderful Mom (first by marriage, then by love) who graciously picked up the children (with the exception of Bella) so I could have some time for myself. She also gave Jimbo and I a O'Charley's gift card and one for the movies so we can go out tomorrow (we will drop the baby off). Her presence in my life reminds me that no matter how bad things are, they are worse for someone else and to be grateful for what I have.

When did I become the expert??

This morning as I was running my ass off chasing children (too bad it doesn't appear enough to keep the junk in my trunk at bay) the phone rang. I weaved through my children to answer it.

"Hellloo?"

"Jaime? Oh my god, Justice just fell out of the bed what do I do??" I recognize my sisters voice.

"Where is she?"

"She's right here," she answers. "I'm holding her."

"She's not crying??"

"No, she did when it happened."

"When did it happen?"

"Maybe 30 minutes ago. I was sleeping with her on the bed and she rolled out of it. She fell between the dresser and the bed. She's got a tiny bump about the size of a dime on the side of her head. Do you think she's ok? Should I call the doctor? Can I drive up there and let you take a look at her?"

"You didn't call the doctor??"

"No...her pupils are fine..."

"Why?" I'm beyond myself. "If she fell and you are worried why not call the doctor??"

"Can't they take her away from me?" I hear the fear in her voice and remind myself she's not new to this but her oldest child is now 8 and it's been awhile for her.

"Listen to me. They won't take her from you. It was an accident. You fell asleep and this kind of thing happens all the time. But if you think she could be hurt, NEVER...EVER...wait to call the doctor. In fact, call him now. I'm sure she is fine, if it happened 30 minutes ago but you can never be to sure."

"Ok, I'll call him now," she promises.

"Call me and let me know what's going on when you can please. Ok?"

"Ok."

We hang up.

10:30pm The phone rings.

"Hello?"

In the background I hear Justice screaming like crazy.

"Jaime? Justice just threw up and she won't stop crying. Do you think it's from hitting her head earlier?"

"Did you call the doctor?"

"Yes I did, the nurse said to keep an eye on her. But should we take her to the hospital?" The baby is still squalling.

"Call the doctor again."

"I just did," I hear the baby settling down. "She threw up on me, I don't know what is wrong. I know she doesn't feel that great because she has that ear infection. We made sure to go and get a bed guard so she won't fall out again and she was fine but now she's crying."

"She has an ear infection?" My sister is a pack a day smoker, her fiance smokes 2 packs per day.

"Yeah, they gave her an antibiotic and she was on it a week and it didn't clear it up so they put her on a new one."

"Please tell me you and Craig are not smoking around her. If you are smoking you have to change your clothing, smoke causes ear infections in babies."

"We do not smoke around her." Her voice is harsh and I can tell I've pissed her off. They probably already got this from the pediatrician.

"Ok, well...maybe the new antibiotic is upsetting her tummy..."

"But we gave that to her early this morning!"

This conversation goes on for several minutes before I convince her that she needs to call her doctor. We hang up the phone and as I type this she never did call me back.

This is one of the more frustrating things about my relationship with my sister. I love my nieces and I worry about them. I used to make myself sick with worry over Zoe when I had to stop babysitting her. But I learned to distance myself because there was nothing I could do and all the worrying in the world wouldn't change anything.

I know bad things happen to the best of people. I also know that Justice falling off the bed was an accident. But hearing that baby scream from her throbbing ears full of infection and knowing they've been told (by me repeatedly) that cigarette smoke causes it...it pisses me off.

On a positive note, after today I'm finally on the summer scoreboard!

Summer Scoreboard:

Kids=2
Mom=1

Am I asking too much?

Every single time my Mother gets any of my children it kills her to stay put at home with them. Instead she wants to put them in the car and drive around here and there. She claims this is because she needs something, wants to get something and then tells me I need to chill out.

This is starting to cause a rift between my husband and I. He’s fed up with it. Each time Mom gets the kids (namely Arwen) I tell her beforehand to get her shopping done so Arwen won’t be out traveling the roads. Yet each and every time my Mom is out riding around with my child in tow, completely ignoring my requests.

I just called to check on my daughter and guess what? They were in the car, on the way to the store.

Maybe it’s not a big thing. Maybe I’m being too strict. But it’s the simple fact my Mom refuses to listen to my wishes when it comes to my children. She just says she’ll do what I ask and then the moment the kids are in her car she does whatever she wants to do. I told her this is a dangerous holiday weekend to be on the roads. Each time she places my daughter into the car to make the long trip into town she increases the chances of placing her in harms way. But she ignores me and does whatever she wants to, who am I but Arwen’s Mother anyway.

I have to do something about this. If only for the problems it is causing in my marriage. My husband is one of the most passive people you will ever meet but he hates my Mother with a passion. When she pulls this crap he turns to me to control the situation and when I can’t he lashes out.

Maybe I should say to hell with it and let him have a go at her. That might provide the desired result. But I worry it might also cause severe damage and it’s the only reason I’ve tried to mediate for so long.

I’ve always known my Mom is manic. She gets so pissed when I tell her this but it’s true. For years I’ve watched as she went from severe high’s and would get ideas into her head that she wouldn’t rest until she completed to her severe lows when she would turn on a dime and lash out at you, sometimes physically. She is always unstable. Everything is about her and her needs and wants.

She loves to repeat things over and over to people, as if it might make her believe them herself.

“My grandbabies love me so much!” she tells people repeatedly. “They just LOVE me.”

Maybe it’s petty but each time she says this now my skin begins to crawl. She loves to place an unnecessary competition for the love of my children between her and I. She seems to achieve perverse pleasure on drilling it into my head that they love her so much more than anyone else, including me. And as I sit there in silence she just repeats the same thing over and over and over again.

I don’t know what to do. I just don’t.

Mixed Signals

"They made fun of me Mommy!" Arwens face crinkled up at me as I was brushing her hair to get her ready for school.

"Who did?" I stopped brushing to look at her in the mirror.

"The other kids, you put me in my uniform yesterday and it was out of uniform day and we were supposed to wear pajamas!" She emphasized the last part.

*****

Out of uniform days at school are a very rare treat and one Arwen really looks forward to. I mark each of them on the calendar and since they only occur every couple of months it's pretty easy to keep up with.

Last week we got a letter stating the school would have a 'student' principal and that May 30th was the set day for out of uniform PJ day. I marked it on my calendar. This morning I remembered the note and went digging and I found it. Boy am I pissed.

The date for out of uniform is obviously a typo because it says clear as day the girl will be principal on April 30th and she has decreed that May 30th will be out of uniform pajama day. I feel pretty bad right now since my daughter was obviously picked on by other children because her Mom forgot it was out of uniform PJ day.

I'll be SO glad when she's in a public school next year. Then each and every day she can be the little individual I love. Out of uniform days? Who needs them.

Animal Cruelty = Art?

Guillermo Habacuc Vargas do you recognize that name?

This idiot paid two children for a dog which he placed into his art museum, tied to the wall, without food or water until the dog eventually died. Then he had the nerve to call it art.

But wait, it gets better. Someone from a different gallery has asked him to do another exhibit like the first with another dog and there is a petition online to stop it from occurring. You can find it HERE.

Momma Drama

I'm about to make an entry on a subject that seems to continuously appear on my blog. For those of you who are tired of hearing about my Momma drama, please skip over this.

As you may recall from a previous entry, Beware the Ides of March, my Mother and I are having some issues and have been for a very long time. After our heated discussion I decided we would go over for a short time on Easter in the morning. After all, we are going to Jim's family and I do want to be fair (even if making the trip really puts us out).

Tonight after the kids were settled I decided to sneak in a nap. I nestled with Annabel upstairs when the phone rang. No big I figured, until I heard the caller ID. It was my Mom. I heard the answering machine click over and I just let it. I was tired and Annabel was nearly asleep. Then I heard my cell phone going off. Again, it was her (why she does that is beyond me, if I don't answer the home phone why would I answer my cell???) and again I didn't pick it up.

When I woke an hour or so later I came downstairs and Jimbo looked rather peeved (which admittedly is odd for him, sure he's a pain in the kitchen but more often than not he's passive). It appears my Mom called yet again and he picked up. Every time in the past this has happened my Mother has asked for me, told him to tell me to call her and hung up. But not today. Nope. Today she was all kisses and, "the kids are going to have soooooo much fun! I bought this and that and blah blah blah", all because she is getting her way.

"It's pisses me off so bad," he said. "She treats me like shit every time she calls. No 'how are you' or 'thank you' just, 'is Jaime there, well tell her I called, click' it's insulting. Not to mention all the times she's called and when she hears me she hangs up. What the fuck does she think, I can't read the caller ID? That I don't know it's her hanging up on me?"

And the truth is, he has every right to be angry. My Mother has crapped on him and although I do not allow it or condone it (and she knows it too), she is still a bitch to him. I still remember after giving birth to Logan, Jimbo was in the hospital room with me when Mom called. She asked to speak with me and I was asleep, which Jimbo told her.

"Little shit," she said as she hung up the phone. He never forgot that and neither have I. When I brought it up she tried to downplay it or changes the subject.

I know several of you fellow bloggers have suggested I cut her out of my life or just simply say no. (I truly appreciate the comments and support from you all) Trust me when I say I'd love to do both of these things and I've tried them out.

First I cut her out as much as I could. Problem is my daughter adores her (believe it or not, as a testament to my truth, my boys have never stayed the night with my Mother) and the longer she goes without seeing her, the more she craves it. I don't wish to punish Arwen for my Mothers faults. (even if my dear sweet daughter returns home acting like a brat and fool for a good week after a trip to her "Grannies")

Then I tried telling her "NO". This worked for a very short period of time because she would call and put on that act. And it all lies within me but I allow her to guilt trip me. I try to stop it but years of conditioning are working against me.

When you add all the shit she has put me through it also causes tension for Jimbo. He loves me and when he sees me upset or crying (which I never do) he is livid. And he knows she is the only person who can upset me so much, and just the fact that SHE knows it and continues to do it. Let's just say it pisses him off something fierce.

It's hard having a manipulative person as your Mother. I'm pretty sure she acts as she does because of tons of insecurity. I've always known she put on a show for others. She always has to be the center of anything. Even in times of crisis. As terrible as it is for me to admit it, my Mom thrives off of drama. It seems to bring out the best and worst in her.

I don't know what we are going to do after this year. I want to be fair but she isn't being fair and for those you might say, "tell her she can come visit your house", I have tried, believe me. I've asked her and my Dad over time and again and they've come out a handful of times. They tell us, "it's such a long trip, it's too hard to come out there". I guess packing 4 children up and taking them there is easy.

I told Jimbo today that it's like this. I feel as if she places this huge weight upon my shoulders and makes me bear it. Then each time she calls it's a reminder of that weight and of the burden imposed upon me by her. And it makes me absolutely resent the hell out of her.

She just doesn't get it and to prove my point I'll end this entry with a comment she made to Jimbo that had steam coming out of his ears.

"11 o'clock will come so early tomorrow."

HELLO. We get up at 6-7am here to care for our children. You think 11am is coming early?

Wake the hell up Mother. Please.