My friend Rachel went to the Emergency Room this morning. She was there for about 8 hours. She was having some "female" issues and of course they put her through the gamut of the usual tests. During one of these tests, the attending doctor made the pronouncement that they "could not find" her right ovary. Well, doc, what happened to it? It was there when she left this morning. So, after a strenous game of internal hide and seek, they found it. I'm not quite sure where they found it, but they found it all the same. (And I'm guessing moved it back to where it was supposed to be in the first place.) ((Did you know that they could do internal ultrasounds?? I didn't...and I wish I still didn't because the description of it was quite vivid.....not to mention disgusting)
The other night (I'm thinking Thursday? or was I thinking Arbys?....anyway) we had ourselves one big ole gullywasher of a storm come through. Stormed so bad it knocked our power out from 6 p.m. until about 1 a.m. So, it's about 90 something degrees or so with a humidity of 100 percent (and for those of you who don't know, humidity in Alabama is not like humidity in the rest of the world. It's worse......much, much worse....think Rain Forest worse.) and we are sitting in the living room, in the dark (because it's just too hot to light a candle) with absolutely nothing to do except stare at each other (or try to stare at each other....it was dark, remember?) and we ended up having to rely on that old standby for boredom.......conversation.
So, we started telling stories....funny stories, scary stories, true stories and tall tales. We did round robin stories (you know, one person starts and you go around in a circle with each person adding on to the story until it becomes so convoluted you have no idea how it's going to end you just wish it would......kind of like this one.) for about three hours. The little ones got so bored they just crawled up on the couch and went to sleep. And, after a while, we picked up their sleeping, sweaty bodies and carted them off to bed. I slept on the couch and was just too hot to do anything but doze. And when the lights finally did come back on and woke me up, the first words out of my mouth were "Thank You, Jesus, for this wonderful air conditioning!"
And, last but not least, my goddaughter is back from her summer vacation with her dad and ready to start 2nd grade in a couple of weeks. Welcome back, Terrianna!!!!
And now that I have bored you all into a comatose state, I have done my job.
Peace alllllll.......................
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Falling and Throwing
Man, I have been falling down on the job in my posting. (Wonder where they got that phrase "falling down on the job" from? Hope it wasn't from one of those high rise window washer guys.) I promise to do better.
Anyway, this is what happened today. Last week, we had to take the boys to the dentist for a checkup and Jakob had to get a filling in one of his teeth (bottom, back, left hand side). Well, this morning, he said his tooth was hurting, so we called the dentist. They told us to come in this afternoon and so there we were, in the dentist's waiting area.
Now, I love this group of dentists. They are all so very nice to the boys and the boys just love them. In the waiting area (which is HUGE), they have a window on the far left side so you can look in at the patients having their teeth cleaned if you want. Wonderful idea for anxious parents and anxious kids (i.e. my family). Directly in front of this window is a little play area for kids. It has a couple of plastic tables and chairs, books,a mini-slide, a little basketball goal and a couple of those really soft Nerf-like basketballs. Okay, cool.
So, Lukas and Jakob were playing over in that area when two bigger kids came in (maybe 6 and 7 years old.) They started throwing one of the little basketballs at each other in a little game of inside dodgeball. Not too much running, so no big deal. Well, Lukas decided he wanted to play with them. And seeing as how these other 2 boys were brothers, they did what brothers all over the world do. They decided to play a game of keep away. One of the boys would have the ball and ask Lukas "Hey, kid....do you want it...do you want it?" and when Lukas would make a move for it he would throw it to his brother. Okay, no big deal. Guys all over the place do this. Lukas played along and dealt with it fine for a few minutes. Then he started getting a little irritated with them. I was wondering to myself..."I wonder what Lukas is about to do?" I found out in a second.
The brothers were standing with their backs to the wall. One of them had the ball. Lukas was standing just a couple of feet away by one of the small plastic tables with the 2 plastic chairs. The boy with the ball held it out and said "Hey, kid....do you want it...do you want it?"
At which point Lukas picked up one of the plastic chairs, held it over his head and said "Do you want it? Do you want it?" and proceeded to chunk the chair at the boy. Of course, Grover immediately took him to the car and talked to him about how inappropriate that was, etc.
I didn't say anything when the boys were playing keepaway with Lukas for 2 reasons:
1. Kids do that and sometimes you just have to learn to deal with that kind of thing if no one is getting hurt.
2. I wanted to see how Lukas would handle it. He handled it pretty well at first.....then of course, there was the whole chair thing, which gave me a pretty clear indication of his patience level.
I have had the conversation with him about how to respond appropriately in a situation like that in the future. He listened. Hopefully he retained the information and no more chairs will be thrown in the future.
Did he hit either one of the boys with the chair? Of course not.........they ducked. Smarter than they looked, evidently.
Peace allllll.....................
P.S. Jakob was fine.....turned out the filling was a little too thick and they had to file it down some. So a good day was had by all!
Anyway, this is what happened today. Last week, we had to take the boys to the dentist for a checkup and Jakob had to get a filling in one of his teeth (bottom, back, left hand side). Well, this morning, he said his tooth was hurting, so we called the dentist. They told us to come in this afternoon and so there we were, in the dentist's waiting area.
Now, I love this group of dentists. They are all so very nice to the boys and the boys just love them. In the waiting area (which is HUGE), they have a window on the far left side so you can look in at the patients having their teeth cleaned if you want. Wonderful idea for anxious parents and anxious kids (i.e. my family). Directly in front of this window is a little play area for kids. It has a couple of plastic tables and chairs, books,a mini-slide, a little basketball goal and a couple of those really soft Nerf-like basketballs. Okay, cool.
So, Lukas and Jakob were playing over in that area when two bigger kids came in (maybe 6 and 7 years old.) They started throwing one of the little basketballs at each other in a little game of inside dodgeball. Not too much running, so no big deal. Well, Lukas decided he wanted to play with them. And seeing as how these other 2 boys were brothers, they did what brothers all over the world do. They decided to play a game of keep away. One of the boys would have the ball and ask Lukas "Hey, kid....do you want it...do you want it?" and when Lukas would make a move for it he would throw it to his brother. Okay, no big deal. Guys all over the place do this. Lukas played along and dealt with it fine for a few minutes. Then he started getting a little irritated with them. I was wondering to myself..."I wonder what Lukas is about to do?" I found out in a second.
The brothers were standing with their backs to the wall. One of them had the ball. Lukas was standing just a couple of feet away by one of the small plastic tables with the 2 plastic chairs. The boy with the ball held it out and said "Hey, kid....do you want it...do you want it?"
At which point Lukas picked up one of the plastic chairs, held it over his head and said "Do you want it? Do you want it?" and proceeded to chunk the chair at the boy. Of course, Grover immediately took him to the car and talked to him about how inappropriate that was, etc.
I didn't say anything when the boys were playing keepaway with Lukas for 2 reasons:
1. Kids do that and sometimes you just have to learn to deal with that kind of thing if no one is getting hurt.
2. I wanted to see how Lukas would handle it. He handled it pretty well at first.....then of course, there was the whole chair thing, which gave me a pretty clear indication of his patience level.
I have had the conversation with him about how to respond appropriately in a situation like that in the future. He listened. Hopefully he retained the information and no more chairs will be thrown in the future.
Did he hit either one of the boys with the chair? Of course not.........they ducked. Smarter than they looked, evidently.
Peace allllll.....................
P.S. Jakob was fine.....turned out the filling was a little too thick and they had to file it down some. So a good day was had by all!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
225
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls and children of alllllll ages.....WELCOME to the 225th post at sprinkleshouse!!
That's right......this is the 225th time that I have sat in front of this computer (well, maybe not this computer exactly...but you get my point) whilst venting my rage and frustration, or telling a (sometimes) funny story or opening a window to my past or my present.
As I look back on my previous 224 posts I see someone who is:
often confused
sometimes outraged
occasionally tickled
more often than not aggravated
periodically reflective
I see someone who is:
loud
opinionated
passionate
honest
real
sensitive
insecure
hard headed
and not too terribly often at a loss for words.
In other words, I see a work in progress. But at least it's progressing.
For those who have been with me from almost the beginning.....thanks for taking the time to read this often incoherent explosion of words.
And for those of you who have just recently joined me......stick around.....every once in a while I actually make sense.:)
Here's to the next 225!
I love alllll you guys....on the real. You're better than any therapist:)
Peace allllllllll..........................
That's right......this is the 225th time that I have sat in front of this computer (well, maybe not this computer exactly...but you get my point) whilst venting my rage and frustration, or telling a (sometimes) funny story or opening a window to my past or my present.
As I look back on my previous 224 posts I see someone who is:
often confused
sometimes outraged
occasionally tickled
more often than not aggravated
periodically reflective
I see someone who is:
loud
opinionated
passionate
honest
real
sensitive
insecure
hard headed
and not too terribly often at a loss for words.
In other words, I see a work in progress. But at least it's progressing.
For those who have been with me from almost the beginning.....thanks for taking the time to read this often incoherent explosion of words.
And for those of you who have just recently joined me......stick around.....every once in a while I actually make sense.:)
Here's to the next 225!
I love alllll you guys....on the real. You're better than any therapist:)
Peace allllllllll..........................
Friday, July 13, 2007
13
Happy Friday the 13th to you allllll!!!
I don't have any superstitions or anything related to this particular day, but there will be a lotta good slasher flicks on tonight! (You know, it doesn't take a whole lot to make me happy)
Be careful out there.....don't step on any cracks or walk under any ladders or whatever it is you're not supposed to do today.
Peace allllll..............
I don't have any superstitions or anything related to this particular day, but there will be a lotta good slasher flicks on tonight! (You know, it doesn't take a whole lot to make me happy)
Be careful out there.....don't step on any cracks or walk under any ladders or whatever it is you're not supposed to do today.
Peace allllll..............
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I Want Brains!
Where, oh where, has my grey matter gone? Oh where, oh where ,can it be?
You know, back in the day, I used to be pretty smart. 4.0 GPA, spoke two foreign languages (French and German) and could remember what I had for breakfast on February 3, 1981. I wasn't a genius, but I could hold my own. I used to read alllll the time, and used to love the classics. I could curl up with a bag of apples and just devour "Silas Marner", "Wuthering Heights", "War and Peace" and anything else with great enjoyment.
It's not that way anymore.
Ever since my kids were born, I have honestly felt like I have been slipping a little at a time. I find it harder to concentrate when I am in the middle of a conversation. I have on more than one occasion zoned out when someone was talking to me, only to look at them and say "huh?" after they had been talking for at least 5 minutes. (People do not appreciate this.)
I find myself making lists alllll the time so that I will remember everything that I have to do in a day. Without a list, the kids might get fed, but I can pretty much guarantee that the dogs and the cats won't.
I often find myself in the middle of a sentence and really wanting to use the right word and for the life of me I can't think of what it is.......until 10 minutes later. Then I shout "That was it!" and by that time the conversation has been over and I become the recipient of some very odd looks.
I feel like my brain is in slumber mode a lot. I used to be interested in things. I used to be interesting. I used to be able to talk all day and all night about a thousand different things with passion and zeal. I used to be a big fan of "spirited debate". And now, in the middle of a "spirited debate", I will often do one of two things. I will either stop and say "what are we talking about?" or "okay, this is becoming boring....i'm ready to shut up now."
I have become dull and boring.....I used to greet each new day with a burst of enthusiasm. And now I wake up and ask myself "Is it time for bed yet?"
Ah, if only I could get my brain to wake up! Or if I could just replace some of the cells that I have lost over the years.
Do they sell grey matter at Wal-Mart? Maybe on a buy one, get one free type of deal? Wonder what the roll back price on that is?
Peace alllllll............................
You know, back in the day, I used to be pretty smart. 4.0 GPA, spoke two foreign languages (French and German) and could remember what I had for breakfast on February 3, 1981. I wasn't a genius, but I could hold my own. I used to read alllll the time, and used to love the classics. I could curl up with a bag of apples and just devour "Silas Marner", "Wuthering Heights", "War and Peace" and anything else with great enjoyment.
It's not that way anymore.
Ever since my kids were born, I have honestly felt like I have been slipping a little at a time. I find it harder to concentrate when I am in the middle of a conversation. I have on more than one occasion zoned out when someone was talking to me, only to look at them and say "huh?" after they had been talking for at least 5 minutes. (People do not appreciate this.)
I find myself making lists alllll the time so that I will remember everything that I have to do in a day. Without a list, the kids might get fed, but I can pretty much guarantee that the dogs and the cats won't.
I often find myself in the middle of a sentence and really wanting to use the right word and for the life of me I can't think of what it is.......until 10 minutes later. Then I shout "That was it!" and by that time the conversation has been over and I become the recipient of some very odd looks.
I feel like my brain is in slumber mode a lot. I used to be interested in things. I used to be interesting. I used to be able to talk all day and all night about a thousand different things with passion and zeal. I used to be a big fan of "spirited debate". And now, in the middle of a "spirited debate", I will often do one of two things. I will either stop and say "what are we talking about?" or "okay, this is becoming boring....i'm ready to shut up now."
I have become dull and boring.....I used to greet each new day with a burst of enthusiasm. And now I wake up and ask myself "Is it time for bed yet?"
Ah, if only I could get my brain to wake up! Or if I could just replace some of the cells that I have lost over the years.
Do they sell grey matter at Wal-Mart? Maybe on a buy one, get one free type of deal? Wonder what the roll back price on that is?
Peace alllllll............................
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
B's and H's and the Rest of It
***DISCLAIMER: There will be profanity in the following post, not because I enjoy it, but because I feel its use is necessary to make a point. Thank you......******
I have just about had it with this nonsense. The nonsense to which I am in reference is this whole "bitch, ho" debacle. Because this isn't about some random curse words, this is about empowerment or lack thereof.
Men should not call women bitches and hos (is that the correct spelling or should it be hoes?......no that's a garden tool.....anyway). This is true. Women should not call other women bitches and/or hos. This is a problem that should have been addressed and solved by WOMEN a long time ago.
I'm sorry, I for one do not need Al Sharpton or Russell Simmons or Harvey Levin or even my own husband telling me this. This is something that my MOTHER (a WOMAN, mind you) taught me a long time ago. I was taught as a very young girl that there are certain things that you simply do not allow anyone, be they man, woman or child, to call you. You know, things such as "stupid", "fat", "ugly", "bitch" and "whore". I'm pretty sure, not positive, but pretty sure, that every little girl (and a lot of little boys) were told this at some point in their life. At what point did we forget this?
Was it when we were trying to look cool in front of friends when we were teenagers and dog out on some girl who had the "reputation"? (Bear in mind, reputation is not always fact and oftentimes is a complete fabrication.) Was it when we were trying to emulate some rebellious rock star or movie actor, not realizing what they were doing was putting on a show for our entertainment, not for our imitation? Was it when the first man called us a bitch or a ho because they were angry or jealous, not to mention incapable of producing a word which more accurately reflected how they were feeling at the time? When was it? When did we forget to act like civilized creatures with a higher logic and a higher purpose than the animals around us?
And when did we, as women, start letting men tell us, after so many years of this, that we were allowed to say something about it now? I've been saying something about it for years and have pretty much either been ignored or told "well, boys will be boys." Okay, so when do boys become men? Oh, I suppose when THEY make the decision to be morally correct and righteous. It's a little too late for that fellas.
Women have been fighting this battle for years and now, just because some MAN decides that we (women) need to organize a march to protest how we have been treated for YEARS, we're supposed to jump up and say "Yessah, massah"? I don't think so. Ihave BEEN protesting this treatment over half of my life, and I am not the only woman who has done so. Where were you THEN? Yes, you Mr. Simmons, with your Def Comedy Jam with it's misogynistic overtones. Was it when you had two daughters of your own? So, what, now you're trying to take back decades of the garbage that you and your ilk (men that is) helped to spead like the cancer that it is?
This is for women to take care of. This is for women to teach their sons and daughters to be better than. ( Men, I'm sorry for the few good ones that are out there. You have a hard time letting your light shine through this. Keep trying though. Maybe, after enough generations have passed, this will be but a distant, if ugly, memory in our collective subconscious.) This is not for men to take us by our hands and tell us "It's okay, you can do it." This is for us to tell ourselves "we can do it together." Because until we can demand respect from ourselves, there is no way that we can command respect from anyone else.
Now, Al......chew on that.
Peace allllllllll.......................
I have just about had it with this nonsense. The nonsense to which I am in reference is this whole "bitch, ho" debacle. Because this isn't about some random curse words, this is about empowerment or lack thereof.
Men should not call women bitches and hos (is that the correct spelling or should it be hoes?......no that's a garden tool.....anyway). This is true. Women should not call other women bitches and/or hos. This is a problem that should have been addressed and solved by WOMEN a long time ago.
I'm sorry, I for one do not need Al Sharpton or Russell Simmons or Harvey Levin or even my own husband telling me this. This is something that my MOTHER (a WOMAN, mind you) taught me a long time ago. I was taught as a very young girl that there are certain things that you simply do not allow anyone, be they man, woman or child, to call you. You know, things such as "stupid", "fat", "ugly", "bitch" and "whore". I'm pretty sure, not positive, but pretty sure, that every little girl (and a lot of little boys) were told this at some point in their life. At what point did we forget this?
Was it when we were trying to look cool in front of friends when we were teenagers and dog out on some girl who had the "reputation"? (Bear in mind, reputation is not always fact and oftentimes is a complete fabrication.) Was it when we were trying to emulate some rebellious rock star or movie actor, not realizing what they were doing was putting on a show for our entertainment, not for our imitation? Was it when the first man called us a bitch or a ho because they were angry or jealous, not to mention incapable of producing a word which more accurately reflected how they were feeling at the time? When was it? When did we forget to act like civilized creatures with a higher logic and a higher purpose than the animals around us?
And when did we, as women, start letting men tell us, after so many years of this, that we were allowed to say something about it now? I've been saying something about it for years and have pretty much either been ignored or told "well, boys will be boys." Okay, so when do boys become men? Oh, I suppose when THEY make the decision to be morally correct and righteous. It's a little too late for that fellas.
Women have been fighting this battle for years and now, just because some MAN decides that we (women) need to organize a march to protest how we have been treated for YEARS, we're supposed to jump up and say "Yessah, massah"? I don't think so. Ihave BEEN protesting this treatment over half of my life, and I am not the only woman who has done so. Where were you THEN? Yes, you Mr. Simmons, with your Def Comedy Jam with it's misogynistic overtones. Was it when you had two daughters of your own? So, what, now you're trying to take back decades of the garbage that you and your ilk (men that is) helped to spead like the cancer that it is?
This is for women to take care of. This is for women to teach their sons and daughters to be better than. ( Men, I'm sorry for the few good ones that are out there. You have a hard time letting your light shine through this. Keep trying though. Maybe, after enough generations have passed, this will be but a distant, if ugly, memory in our collective subconscious.) This is not for men to take us by our hands and tell us "It's okay, you can do it." This is for us to tell ourselves "we can do it together." Because until we can demand respect from ourselves, there is no way that we can command respect from anyone else.
Now, Al......chew on that.
Peace allllllllll.......................
Sunday, July 08, 2007
School Daze
At church this morning, our pastor informed us that our church is launching a home school program. They are having a meeting on it tomorrow night for interested parties to get more information about it. I have thougth about homeschooling the kids for some time now, but I (and Grover) have been unable to make a decision thus far.
There are several pro points on homeschooling, such as the ability to let the kids go at their own pace, be it fast or slow, the freedom for religous instruction, and not worrying about bullies and fights and bad teachers.
However, by the same token, there is not really enough socialization in home schools. I know that they have groups and meetings and dances and sports events for the kids, but it's just not the same.
If I homeschool, there won't be any class parties, or homecoming dances or proms or being in the band or clubs or any of the great things that make public schools great.
Lukas is due to start kindergarten in August. Kindergarten is not mandatory in Alabama, though, so I do have a minute to decide, if I need more time. But something is telling me to get all the research I can, pray about it and decide. I don't want to waste time if I don't have to but I do want to make the right decision for my kids.
Ah,more questions than I know what to do with these days!
Have an abfab day peoples!!
Peace allllll................
There are several pro points on homeschooling, such as the ability to let the kids go at their own pace, be it fast or slow, the freedom for religous instruction, and not worrying about bullies and fights and bad teachers.
However, by the same token, there is not really enough socialization in home schools. I know that they have groups and meetings and dances and sports events for the kids, but it's just not the same.
If I homeschool, there won't be any class parties, or homecoming dances or proms or being in the band or clubs or any of the great things that make public schools great.
Lukas is due to start kindergarten in August. Kindergarten is not mandatory in Alabama, though, so I do have a minute to decide, if I need more time. But something is telling me to get all the research I can, pray about it and decide. I don't want to waste time if I don't have to but I do want to make the right decision for my kids.
Ah,more questions than I know what to do with these days!
Have an abfab day peoples!!
Peace allllll................
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Oh, My Joshie, Oh Don't You Cry For Me
Some of you may know who Josh is. A lot of you don't. Let me give a little background.
Josh is 13 years old, about to be 14 in September. For the past 13 years, I and his grandmother have been raising him. This is because when he was born, his biological mother, Tars, who was 16 at the time, wanted nothing to do with him. She "didn't have time for that". Granted, she was young.......and also heartless and cold-blooded...but another story for another day.
Anyhow, Rachel (his grandmother) and I decided to raise him as more or less our own. He knew who his biological mother was and some of the story behind his coming to be with us. So for 13 years, we have taken care of him, fed him, loved him, bought his school clothes and Christmas and birthday gifts. We are the ones who have gone to parent-teacher conferences and worked with him on his homework. We are the ones who have taken him to the doctor and sat up with him when he was sick and when he broke his ankle and was laid up for a month, we were the ones who were at his beck and call 24 hours a day. No big deal. We were, for all intents and purposes, his parents and that is what parents do for the children they love.
As I have said, he has always known his biological mother, Rachel's daughter. We have never attempted to keep him from her and we have never attempted to keep her from him, even though for the first 9 years of his life, he barely saw her or heard from her.
Over the past, oh, year or so, he has spent more time with her. Actually, the purpose was for him to see his brother and sisters who live with her. But nonetheless.....I digress.
When school let out for the summer he wanted to go spend the weekend over there, a couple of nights. No big deal......it was summertime after all. Well, that weekend has turned into a month and a half. And he tells us the other day, actually the day before yesterday, that he now wants to live with his biological mother. That was a hard hammer to have fall on you.
Now, the reason I have a problem with this is: Tara is 29. She had her first child when she was 13......that first child she took care of for about 6 months and then she sent the child to live with her father. Fast forward about 13 years and the father decides he doesn't want the girl anymore and so he drops her off at Tara's house and basically says "have a nice day". That's child number one.
Child number 2 is Joshua.......she didn't want him when she had him and spent the next several years having very little to do with him until recently.
Child number 3 is Briana.....we were raising her as well. She passed away when she was 2 and a half.
Children numbers 4 and 5 are Corey and Gabby.....she was married to their father when she had them so she kinda had to keep them. They are the only 2 out of 6 children that have always lived with her. She considers them "her" children.
Child number 6 is Colin.....she didn't like his father so when she had this one, she gave him to her cousin and his wife to raise.
After Colin, she finally had her tubes tied. Thank you God, for all miracles small and large.
So, now Josh wants to live with her. Why? I'm not really sure. I know that he and Grover have a rough go from time to time. I know that she doesn't have as many rules in her house...and I know that he can kind of run wild at her place.
But is all of that worth walking away from me and his mom? Who walks away from a mother who has been so good to them their whole lives to live with a woman who could really care less about him?
I'm trying not to be angry with him. I'm trying not to have my feelings hurt by all of this. And I am failing miserably at both. Not really sure what to do at this point. Do I wait it out and hope he comes back.....or do I cut it loose and let him go completely?
I do not have the answers, just the questions.
Peace alllllll........................
Josh is 13 years old, about to be 14 in September. For the past 13 years, I and his grandmother have been raising him. This is because when he was born, his biological mother, Tars, who was 16 at the time, wanted nothing to do with him. She "didn't have time for that". Granted, she was young.......and also heartless and cold-blooded...but another story for another day.
Anyhow, Rachel (his grandmother) and I decided to raise him as more or less our own. He knew who his biological mother was and some of the story behind his coming to be with us. So for 13 years, we have taken care of him, fed him, loved him, bought his school clothes and Christmas and birthday gifts. We are the ones who have gone to parent-teacher conferences and worked with him on his homework. We are the ones who have taken him to the doctor and sat up with him when he was sick and when he broke his ankle and was laid up for a month, we were the ones who were at his beck and call 24 hours a day. No big deal. We were, for all intents and purposes, his parents and that is what parents do for the children they love.
As I have said, he has always known his biological mother, Rachel's daughter. We have never attempted to keep him from her and we have never attempted to keep her from him, even though for the first 9 years of his life, he barely saw her or heard from her.
Over the past, oh, year or so, he has spent more time with her. Actually, the purpose was for him to see his brother and sisters who live with her. But nonetheless.....I digress.
When school let out for the summer he wanted to go spend the weekend over there, a couple of nights. No big deal......it was summertime after all. Well, that weekend has turned into a month and a half. And he tells us the other day, actually the day before yesterday, that he now wants to live with his biological mother. That was a hard hammer to have fall on you.
Now, the reason I have a problem with this is: Tara is 29. She had her first child when she was 13......that first child she took care of for about 6 months and then she sent the child to live with her father. Fast forward about 13 years and the father decides he doesn't want the girl anymore and so he drops her off at Tara's house and basically says "have a nice day". That's child number one.
Child number 2 is Joshua.......she didn't want him when she had him and spent the next several years having very little to do with him until recently.
Child number 3 is Briana.....we were raising her as well. She passed away when she was 2 and a half.
Children numbers 4 and 5 are Corey and Gabby.....she was married to their father when she had them so she kinda had to keep them. They are the only 2 out of 6 children that have always lived with her. She considers them "her" children.
Child number 6 is Colin.....she didn't like his father so when she had this one, she gave him to her cousin and his wife to raise.
After Colin, she finally had her tubes tied. Thank you God, for all miracles small and large.
So, now Josh wants to live with her. Why? I'm not really sure. I know that he and Grover have a rough go from time to time. I know that she doesn't have as many rules in her house...and I know that he can kind of run wild at her place.
But is all of that worth walking away from me and his mom? Who walks away from a mother who has been so good to them their whole lives to live with a woman who could really care less about him?
I'm trying not to be angry with him. I'm trying not to have my feelings hurt by all of this. And I am failing miserably at both. Not really sure what to do at this point. Do I wait it out and hope he comes back.....or do I cut it loose and let him go completely?
I do not have the answers, just the questions.
Peace alllllll........................
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Not The Best Mother
I may not be the best mother in the world.
Yesterday, my children ate kool-pops for breakfast. It was a nice switch from the standard eggs and cereal.
Today, my children went out to the pool and tracked mud in and out oh, I don't know, three or four times. I simply mopped and mopped again and didn't even fuss about it.
I let them jump on their beds last week.
Sometimes I let them stay up late.
I don't always have the right answer so every once in a while I just make one up.
I am often too willing to abandon housecleaning for roughhousing in the back yard, or the front yard, or just wherever.
Not too long ago, they drew all over their bedroom walls. I fussed at them of course, but I was secretly pleased at their 'artistic expression'. It's gonna be a big pain to have to paint over it but, oh well.
I have been known to tell them "just wear what you have on" if I'm in a hurry and it's a quick trip.
I don't do a lot of things that a lot of so-called "good moms" do. But I do this much:
I take them to church.
I read to them.
I talk to them.
I listen to them.
I bandage and kiss every owee and boo-boo, real or imaginary.
I hug them.
I pray with them.
I pray for them.
I love them.
So, I'm not June Cleaver. I can't walk very well in high heels and haven't owned a pair of pantyhose in years. The last nice necklace I had I broke. I'm loud and clumsy and will probably never look very put-together no matter how hard I try. I can't bake bread without burning it and the dogs won't even eat my homemade biscuits. The microwave is my best friend somedays. I don't sew or knit or do anything that could be considered dainty.
But I do walk barefoot in the yard and talk to my kids about God and life and love and how to treat people. And for now, they listen. And at the end, of the day, when I am sitting on the back porch eating yet another kool-pop, that's really all you can ask for.
I know I'm not the best mother in the world. And one day, my kids may even tell me that I'm not. But today......
they think I am.:)
Peace allllllll....................
Yesterday, my children ate kool-pops for breakfast. It was a nice switch from the standard eggs and cereal.
Today, my children went out to the pool and tracked mud in and out oh, I don't know, three or four times. I simply mopped and mopped again and didn't even fuss about it.
I let them jump on their beds last week.
Sometimes I let them stay up late.
I don't always have the right answer so every once in a while I just make one up.
I am often too willing to abandon housecleaning for roughhousing in the back yard, or the front yard, or just wherever.
Not too long ago, they drew all over their bedroom walls. I fussed at them of course, but I was secretly pleased at their 'artistic expression'. It's gonna be a big pain to have to paint over it but, oh well.
I have been known to tell them "just wear what you have on" if I'm in a hurry and it's a quick trip.
I don't do a lot of things that a lot of so-called "good moms" do. But I do this much:
I take them to church.
I read to them.
I talk to them.
I listen to them.
I bandage and kiss every owee and boo-boo, real or imaginary.
I hug them.
I pray with them.
I pray for them.
I love them.
So, I'm not June Cleaver. I can't walk very well in high heels and haven't owned a pair of pantyhose in years. The last nice necklace I had I broke. I'm loud and clumsy and will probably never look very put-together no matter how hard I try. I can't bake bread without burning it and the dogs won't even eat my homemade biscuits. The microwave is my best friend somedays. I don't sew or knit or do anything that could be considered dainty.
But I do walk barefoot in the yard and talk to my kids about God and life and love and how to treat people. And for now, they listen. And at the end, of the day, when I am sitting on the back porch eating yet another kool-pop, that's really all you can ask for.
I know I'm not the best mother in the world. And one day, my kids may even tell me that I'm not. But today......
they think I am.:)
Peace allllllll....................
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