I'm all for sensible gun legislation. I fully support an assault weapons ban. I fully support a limit on bullets. I support having to show ID when you buy bullets like I have to do to buy Sudaphed. But I'm still angry that it's taken this to happen before Obama grew some balls.
Obama has spoken at 4 mass shootings in his four years in office. Three of those mass shootings took place in 2012 alone and the year isn't over yet.
West Virginia Senator Joe Manchin today asked how much more carnage involving our children must we endure. And as horrific as these deaths have been, we forget Columbine.
Yes, one was a high school the other an elementary school. We lost teenagers and now we've lost babies. Either way we lost children who never got the opportunity to go to prom, graduate, go to college, get married, have babies. The ages of the children are different but the grief of the parent, as well as the nation should be the same.
It's not just schools. Street corners in every major city are war zones. Yes we need gun control reform. Yes we need more mental health care options. But mentally unstable people will be able to get guns. The least we can do is make sure they cannot obtain unlimited rounds of ammunition and military assault weapons.
You cannot tell me that your Christian philosophy tells you that God gave you the right to a gun and that right supersedes the right to life those victims had. I hear this argument coming from people who identify as Pro Life, Pro War, Pro Gun conservatives. I'm calling you bullshitters.
When the second amendment was written the only guns we were given the freedom to process were guns that required us to stop and reload after every single shot. Our forefathers did not imagine semi automatic weapons capable of firing off 100+ rounds of child killing bullets in under 60 seconds.
I don't have time for those of you who see making it harder for this to happen again being a personal affront to any liberty you have. Those children, those teachers, those parents and families had a GOD GIVEN right to LIFE. We all do and that right to Life is more important than your right to turn your home into an arsenal. There's a reason the founders who founded our country on the rights of Life, Liberty, and Happiness. There's also a reason they specified Life first.
This past election I have largely respected the viewpoints of my friends and family which were in direct contradiction with my own. I didn't always understand those views and I sometimes left nasty comments in response, but I respected your right to that opinion. But I cannot and will not respect your opinions on not needing sensible gun legislation.
I cannot respect you as a Right to Lifer when it comes to a fetus but not someone who is not equally fighting for the right to life of a child in a classroom.
I'm seriously evaluating how much longer I'm going to continue to ignore these opinions. Political opinions are one thing but ignorance on the dire needs we have for sensible gun laws is something I cannot ignore and attribute to a simple personal opinion.
Y'all know me. I'm very passionate about my beliefs. I'm sure many of you who need to see this probably have me hidden in your newsfeed. Your loss. But I will not back down.
President Obama, as a supporter, Christian, and American I implore you to not rest until you sign a bill banning assault weapons and limiting ammunition. You had the opportunity to do so after Rep. Giffords was shot. You had the chance after the Colorado shooting. If you had put more political capital into leaning on Congress to pass more sensible gun laws these children may still be alive or the number of dead may have been greatly lessened
I'm not stupid. I know gun laws won't stop these things from happening. More/easier access to mental health services won't eliminate these shootings either. The Lord tells us we will walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The Lord also says we should fear no evil because He is with us. But we do fear evil even though He is with us. And with more sensible gun laws and limits on ammunition these events will be less tragic.
I don't ever want to hear the word "carnage" used in relation to anything other than referencing a battlefield of war. Certainly not in relationship to children whose only crime was going to school.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
God is Still Here
When tragedies like today happen, we often ask, "Where is God?" There's also the question, "Why would God allow this to happen to these children?" Many people speculate and even pretend to know exactly why God allows these horrible evils to happen.
Today, Reverend Mike Huckabee professed to know why this happened, "We ask why there is violence in our schools, but we have systematically removed God from our schools. Should we be so surprised that schools would become a place of carnage? We don't have a crime problem, a gun problem, or even a violence problem. What we have is a sin problem. And since we've ordered God out of our schools, and communities, the military, and public conversations, you know we really shouldn't act so surprised...when all hell breaks loose."
I have a problem with that line of thinking. How small is "Rev." Huckabee's God that simply removing required prayer from schools prevents God from even showing up? How big of "Rev" Huckabee to think that we, mere mortals subjected only to God's desire, have the ability, authority, or even the power to keep God out of anywhere.
God is said to be be a lot of things but the most powerful is His ability to be omnipresent. That means He is everywhere all the time. That's one of the powers of being God. Don't believe me? Let's look at Scripture:
Jeremiah 23:24: Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him? declares the Lord. Do I not fill Heaven and Earth? declares the Lord.
Proverbs 15:3: The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good. (notice it doesn't say 'prevent the evil')
Matthew 18:20: For where two or three are gathered in my name, "there am I among them."
Job 34:21: "For His eyes are on the ways of a man, and he sees all his steps."
Scripture tells us that regardless of what evil or good exist in a place, God is there. God is watching. God is knowing. God is faithful. There's nothing we can do that can force God out of anywhere.
2 Timothy 2:13: If we are faithless, he remains faithful--for he cannot deny himself.
Lamentations 3:22: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.
I'm not going to debate if it was right or wrong to remove teacher/administrative sanctioned prayer from our schools. I believe in prayer. I also believe in the fact that God is always with me, even when I am not in communication with Him, when I'm doing things He does not agree with, things that do not further the Kingdom of God. His Word tells me I am never alone. I will never be forsaken. When the Lord says he will not forsake you, He means never. He doesn't say, "forsake me and you're on your own." He simply says, Deuteronomy 31:6: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you, he will never leave you nor forsake you.
While teacher/administrative sanctioned prayer has been declared unconstitutional, students are allowed to come together to pray. The middle school right behind my house has "Meet Me At the Pole" daily from 7:40 am until class starts at 7:50 am. The school not only provides a place but it also addresses the daily prayer group on the school calender to inform parents that from this time, your child is welcome to come to the flag pole and start his/her day in prayer. Students gather there daily. I'm not taking one or two students. I'm talking many. Each Friday night after football games it is not uncommon to see students from both schools/teams congregating to the center of the field to pray. Schools have Bible clubs, Fellowship of Christian Athletes clubs, and other ways in which to allow child believers to come together in fellowship.
And, if you allow me a little bit of comic relief, as long as there are tests and report cards in school, there will be prayer in school.
What I'm getting at is this: you cannot say that just because the United States Supreme Court ruled that it was unconstitutional to have compelled prayer in schools that God is not there. The case was brought not by an atheist but by a Jewish man who did not want his child to be compelled to pray Christian prayers. This religious man, and his children, have what we Christians have and hold dear: Freedom OF Religion. He simply did not feel that his child should be compelled to recite a Christian prayer. He was every bit as entitled to that opinion and belief as we Christians are that prayer should be recited.
Jews are a very spiritual people. They pray more times a day than many Christians. Much like Islamic followers, Jewish followers have specific prayers for specific times of the day. As Christians we have become such a closed-minded society. We cannot agree to live and let live, to allow for Jewish children, Hindu children, Islamic children, or children of other faiths to pray their particular prayers in school. Shoot, most Christians after seeing men using prayer rugs in an airport will most often run to report them as "suspicious." But yet we want to complain that no one prays anymore. Would we, as Christians, if we were in the minority, have done the same thing to prevent our children from being compelled to pray to a certain god or gods?
We can't have it both ways, Church. We can't. All of us are on a path that we feel is right for us. We are on our own cosmic journeys to personal relationships with a "higher power." For me that higher power is God and I believe the only way I can spend eternity with Him is through the acceptance that He sent His Son to die for my sins, that His Son rose three days later, and will come again. That's how I know I'm saved.
I may not always act like I'm saved: I curse. I don't go to church every.single.time.the.door.is.open. I am hypocritical and judgmental. I'm not perfect but I know that God's Word is true and it always will be.
The events in Newtown, CT did not happen because we don't have sanctioned prayer in school. The terror today came because part of living, even living for Christ, is that evil things happen. For it is not for us mortals to understand why these things happen. We are not guaranteed these things will never happen. In fact, we are told the exact opposite: John 10:10 The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy. I came so that they may have life and have it abundantly.
Does the Lord like our wicked ways? No. Does He love us in spite of those wicked ways? Yes. Does that mean that we can continue to be wicked and still enter the Kingdom of God? No. But just because the wicked may never enter the Kingdom of God, doesn't mean that God is not present.
I often wonder what if Jesus came back right now---right this very second and saw how we mortals are preaching His teachings what he would think. How we are advancing His cause. Would he be sickened at the sight of us? Would He be angry? Would He appreciate us putting His Father, OUR Father, in such a small box as to think that God would leave us simply because the ability to pray in a school house is different than what we believe it should be?
To think that God is not big enough and that He was not present today in that school as those tiny precious children were murdered is so small-minded that I cannot even grasp the entire absurdity of it. I know that God was there as each child and adult was killed. Even the killer. I know that each of those children and adults were welcomed into His arms. Those who were fortunate enough to survive didn't just have police and teacher escorts out of the building today. God was there. God shielded every single person in that school today. Every.single.one. Even those who died.
God did not promise us that we would live forever here on this planet we call Earth. He did not promise that we would never face evil and that tragedy would never strike. We have not been promised a life of sunshine and roses. If we read God's Word and if we communicate with Him, we will possess enough understanding of why things happen to get us through. Do you know how I know this? Because my Bible tells me so:
Psalms 30:5 For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
Today, Reverend Mike Huckabee professed to know why this happened, "We ask why there is violence in our schools, but we have systematically removed God from our schools. Should we be so surprised that schools would become a place of carnage? We don't have a crime problem, a gun problem, or even a violence problem. What we have is a sin problem. And since we've ordered God out of our schools, and communities, the military, and public conversations, you know we really shouldn't act so surprised...when all hell breaks loose."
I have a problem with that line of thinking. How small is "Rev." Huckabee's God that simply removing required prayer from schools prevents God from even showing up? How big of "Rev" Huckabee to think that we, mere mortals subjected only to God's desire, have the ability, authority, or even the power to keep God out of anywhere.
God is said to be be a lot of things but the most powerful is His ability to be omnipresent. That means He is everywhere all the time. That's one of the powers of being God. Don't believe me? Let's look at Scripture:
Jeremiah 23:24: Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him? declares the Lord. Do I not fill Heaven and Earth? declares the Lord.
Proverbs 15:3: The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good. (notice it doesn't say 'prevent the evil')
Matthew 18:20: For where two or three are gathered in my name, "there am I among them."
Job 34:21: "For His eyes are on the ways of a man, and he sees all his steps."
Scripture tells us that regardless of what evil or good exist in a place, God is there. God is watching. God is knowing. God is faithful. There's nothing we can do that can force God out of anywhere.
2 Timothy 2:13: If we are faithless, he remains faithful--for he cannot deny himself.
Lamentations 3:22: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.
I'm not going to debate if it was right or wrong to remove teacher/administrative sanctioned prayer from our schools. I believe in prayer. I also believe in the fact that God is always with me, even when I am not in communication with Him, when I'm doing things He does not agree with, things that do not further the Kingdom of God. His Word tells me I am never alone. I will never be forsaken. When the Lord says he will not forsake you, He means never. He doesn't say, "forsake me and you're on your own." He simply says, Deuteronomy 31:6: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you, he will never leave you nor forsake you.
While teacher/administrative sanctioned prayer has been declared unconstitutional, students are allowed to come together to pray. The middle school right behind my house has "Meet Me At the Pole" daily from 7:40 am until class starts at 7:50 am. The school not only provides a place but it also addresses the daily prayer group on the school calender to inform parents that from this time, your child is welcome to come to the flag pole and start his/her day in prayer. Students gather there daily. I'm not taking one or two students. I'm talking many. Each Friday night after football games it is not uncommon to see students from both schools/teams congregating to the center of the field to pray. Schools have Bible clubs, Fellowship of Christian Athletes clubs, and other ways in which to allow child believers to come together in fellowship.
And, if you allow me a little bit of comic relief, as long as there are tests and report cards in school, there will be prayer in school.
What I'm getting at is this: you cannot say that just because the United States Supreme Court ruled that it was unconstitutional to have compelled prayer in schools that God is not there. The case was brought not by an atheist but by a Jewish man who did not want his child to be compelled to pray Christian prayers. This religious man, and his children, have what we Christians have and hold dear: Freedom OF Religion. He simply did not feel that his child should be compelled to recite a Christian prayer. He was every bit as entitled to that opinion and belief as we Christians are that prayer should be recited.
Jews are a very spiritual people. They pray more times a day than many Christians. Much like Islamic followers, Jewish followers have specific prayers for specific times of the day. As Christians we have become such a closed-minded society. We cannot agree to live and let live, to allow for Jewish children, Hindu children, Islamic children, or children of other faiths to pray their particular prayers in school. Shoot, most Christians after seeing men using prayer rugs in an airport will most often run to report them as "suspicious." But yet we want to complain that no one prays anymore. Would we, as Christians, if we were in the minority, have done the same thing to prevent our children from being compelled to pray to a certain god or gods?
We can't have it both ways, Church. We can't. All of us are on a path that we feel is right for us. We are on our own cosmic journeys to personal relationships with a "higher power." For me that higher power is God and I believe the only way I can spend eternity with Him is through the acceptance that He sent His Son to die for my sins, that His Son rose three days later, and will come again. That's how I know I'm saved.
I may not always act like I'm saved: I curse. I don't go to church every.single.time.the.door.is.open. I am hypocritical and judgmental. I'm not perfect but I know that God's Word is true and it always will be.
The events in Newtown, CT did not happen because we don't have sanctioned prayer in school. The terror today came because part of living, even living for Christ, is that evil things happen. For it is not for us mortals to understand why these things happen. We are not guaranteed these things will never happen. In fact, we are told the exact opposite: John 10:10 The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy. I came so that they may have life and have it abundantly.
Does the Lord like our wicked ways? No. Does He love us in spite of those wicked ways? Yes. Does that mean that we can continue to be wicked and still enter the Kingdom of God? No. But just because the wicked may never enter the Kingdom of God, doesn't mean that God is not present.
I often wonder what if Jesus came back right now---right this very second and saw how we mortals are preaching His teachings what he would think. How we are advancing His cause. Would he be sickened at the sight of us? Would He be angry? Would He appreciate us putting His Father, OUR Father, in such a small box as to think that God would leave us simply because the ability to pray in a school house is different than what we believe it should be?
To think that God is not big enough and that He was not present today in that school as those tiny precious children were murdered is so small-minded that I cannot even grasp the entire absurdity of it. I know that God was there as each child and adult was killed. Even the killer. I know that each of those children and adults were welcomed into His arms. Those who were fortunate enough to survive didn't just have police and teacher escorts out of the building today. God was there. God shielded every single person in that school today. Every.single.one. Even those who died.
God did not promise us that we would live forever here on this planet we call Earth. He did not promise that we would never face evil and that tragedy would never strike. We have not been promised a life of sunshine and roses. If we read God's Word and if we communicate with Him, we will possess enough understanding of why things happen to get us through. Do you know how I know this? Because my Bible tells me so:
Psalms 30:5 For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Companies I Want to Punch In the Nads
Dear Wax Vac,
As soon as I saw your commercials on television I knew that I had to have your product to give my brother, who has the waxiest ears ever on the face of the planet, as a gag gift for Christmas. I searched every.single.store.I.could.thi
I quickly put in my debit card number, my address, and proceed to click through page after page after page of "Wait, there's more!" bullshit items to add to my "set of the world's best ear suckers" each for $7.99 plus $6.99 shipping.
Finally I get to the page that basically tells me, unless you click here and accept the $9.99 Super.Fast.You.Won't.Believe.H
I wasn't given the opportunity to "review my order" before my debit card was Vac raped for over $33. In addition to the $9.99 If-You-Don't-Pay-This-Amount-Y
How precious are the hands that will be handling these mini-wax-sucking-Chinese-made valuables? Should I tell my brother he needs to add this precious product to his will? So a gift that should have cost me roughly $8.99 per person (if I can find someone else who I think needs to have their brains sucked out through their ears) has sent me over my holiday fiscal cliff. All for a practical joke. I wanted to top last years gag gift of a plastic, foam filled, WVU toilet seat circa 1982 that I gave to my brother, a Marshall fan. I thought your cheap little hairdryer shaped ear sucker would be a cheap funny ha ha gift. And maybe it will be.
Perhaps I'll give the other one to my husband because Lord knows he can't hear for shit. So, maybe this will work out in the end after all. I will have paid a lot more than expected but maybe I won't have to repeat myself 50 hundred times a day. But still, almost $14 is asking a lot of someone to pay for another person to handle something unless it was a murder-for-hire kind of thing. I'd pay $14 for that.
Oh, P.S.S. Merry Sucking Christmas.
P.S.S.S. To my Sister-in-law, Michelle, if you're reading this, don't send my brother here. I don't want to spoil the surprise. :)
As soon as I saw your commercials on television I knew that I had to have your product to give my brother, who has the waxiest ears ever on the face of the planet, as a gag gift for Christmas. I searched every.single.store.I.could.thi
I quickly put in my debit card number, my address, and proceed to click through page after page after page of "Wait, there's more!" bullshit items to add to my "set of the world's best ear suckers" each for $7.99 plus $6.99 shipping.
Finally I get to the page that basically tells me, unless you click here and accept the $9.99 Super.Fast.You.Won't.Believe.H
I wasn't given the opportunity to "review my order" before my debit card was Vac raped for over $33. In addition to the $9.99 If-You-Don't-Pay-This-Amount-Y
How precious are the hands that will be handling these mini-wax-sucking-Chinese-made valuables? Should I tell my brother he needs to add this precious product to his will? So a gift that should have cost me roughly $8.99 per person (if I can find someone else who I think needs to have their brains sucked out through their ears) has sent me over my holiday fiscal cliff. All for a practical joke. I wanted to top last years gag gift of a plastic, foam filled, WVU toilet seat circa 1982 that I gave to my brother, a Marshall fan. I thought your cheap little hairdryer shaped ear sucker would be a cheap funny ha ha gift. And maybe it will be.
Perhaps I'll give the other one to my husband because Lord knows he can't hear for shit. So, maybe this will work out in the end after all. I will have paid a lot more than expected but maybe I won't have to repeat myself 50 hundred times a day. But still, almost $14 is asking a lot of someone to pay for another person to handle something unless it was a murder-for-hire kind of thing. I'd pay $14 for that.
Sincerely, Mrs. Grinch.
P.S. I"m going to Bed, Bath, and Beyond this weekend and if I see your little Wax Vacs there minus the handling/processing/get it before tomorrow shipping cost, I will seriously consider that Murder-for-hire processing fee.
Oh, P.S.S. Merry Sucking Christmas.
P.S.S.S. To my Sister-in-law, Michelle, if you're reading this, don't send my brother here. I don't want to spoil the surprise. :)
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Lessons Learned Equal Decisions Made
We've officially been without children for a month an two days. It has been utterly amazing. Seriously.
As an infertile woman, you feel cheated. You feel everyone else gets to have this wonderful life of kids, and Santa, and soccer, and stick figures on the back of your SUV/Minivan/Duggar Bus. When you have ovaries that look like hard boiled Easter Eggs, eggs that are scrambled, a uterus that has literally been burned free of any "embryo-holding" material, a body that sees embryos/fetuses (or is it feti?) as foreign and fights them like infection, and a blood clotting disorder that prevents the development of placenta (even if you hadn't had your uterus surgically broiled) you start to feel bitter.
When you're walking around still carrying all of the weight your fertility treatments caused (in addition to the weight compiled due to Emotional Eating from miscarriage, Grief Eating also from miscarriage, and general eating) you can also be bitter. You look to your friends who pop out babies and those damn Duggar lunatics and think, "I hate you." Then you ask these questions:
"Why can't I be a mom?"
"Why is it so hard for me?"
"What did I ever do so wrong I can't have a child?"
Then you decide, "let's Adopt!" Then you see how expensive that is and realize you don't shit hundred dollah bills y'all or piss Sacajawea gold dollars so you decide, "Let's Foster-to-Adopt!"
And then you either add stick figures to the back of your vehicle and they stay or you add them and scratch them off or you just decided who needs those things on the back of my new car anyway (though I did manage to put not one but two Obama stickers on my new car. I like Obama more than I liked being a foster parent, obviously!)
When you become a foster parent you either love it or hate it. When you finally realize your dream of motherhood or become, "Aunt Allison" to non-blood related little people, you have one of two possible responses:
Yes!! This. Is. Amazing.
or
WTF???????
We started with teens. Teen girls. My response was WTF?????
Neither placement worked out. And here we are. One month of being a "child free" couple again and honestly....This. Is. Amazing!!
My husband no longer wants to be a dad. I no longer feel compelled to make him a father. I no longer wish to be a mom and even though I feel sorry for all the kids out there who need good homes, I no longer feel like I'm supposed to open a Humane Society for children.
I've searched adoption websites to find my "perfect family" and this past month having now experienced what it takes to be a mom and I must say, just Jeff and I being Auntie to the greatest.niece.ever IS my "perfect family."
Thus, we no longer will be fostering. We will no longer be considering adoption. We are happy to stay just as we are. Two late-thirty-somethings who enjoy having a house in a particular order and free of any hormonal/emotional meltdowns.
Do you know how I know I'm okay with never being a mom???? I found out someone is pregnant and, other than being happy for her and her husband, I didn't feel a single twinge of jealousy. I wasn't able to attend the baby shower when she had her first child four years ago because of "Fertility Envy". Today, I was elated for her and elated for myself. She'll have her two precious children and I'll have a quiet house and a wickedly awesome husband.
We both win!
So, take that infertility. You have no power over me anymore because what I learned was, I didn't like being a mom anyway!!
Booyah!
As an infertile woman, you feel cheated. You feel everyone else gets to have this wonderful life of kids, and Santa, and soccer, and stick figures on the back of your SUV/Minivan/Duggar Bus. When you have ovaries that look like hard boiled Easter Eggs, eggs that are scrambled, a uterus that has literally been burned free of any "embryo-holding" material, a body that sees embryos/fetuses (or is it feti?) as foreign and fights them like infection, and a blood clotting disorder that prevents the development of placenta (even if you hadn't had your uterus surgically broiled) you start to feel bitter.
When you're walking around still carrying all of the weight your fertility treatments caused (in addition to the weight compiled due to Emotional Eating from miscarriage, Grief Eating also from miscarriage, and general eating) you can also be bitter. You look to your friends who pop out babies and those damn Duggar lunatics and think, "I hate you." Then you ask these questions:
"Why can't I be a mom?"
"Why is it so hard for me?"
"What did I ever do so wrong I can't have a child?"
Then you decide, "let's Adopt!" Then you see how expensive that is and realize you don't shit hundred dollah bills y'all or piss Sacajawea gold dollars so you decide, "Let's Foster-to-Adopt!"
And then you either add stick figures to the back of your vehicle and they stay or you add them and scratch them off or you just decided who needs those things on the back of my new car anyway (though I did manage to put not one but two Obama stickers on my new car. I like Obama more than I liked being a foster parent, obviously!)
When you become a foster parent you either love it or hate it. When you finally realize your dream of motherhood or become, "Aunt Allison" to non-blood related little people, you have one of two possible responses:
Yes!! This. Is. Amazing.
or
WTF???????
We started with teens. Teen girls. My response was WTF?????
Neither placement worked out. And here we are. One month of being a "child free" couple again and honestly....This. Is. Amazing!!
My husband no longer wants to be a dad. I no longer feel compelled to make him a father. I no longer wish to be a mom and even though I feel sorry for all the kids out there who need good homes, I no longer feel like I'm supposed to open a Humane Society for children.
I've searched adoption websites to find my "perfect family" and this past month having now experienced what it takes to be a mom and I must say, just Jeff and I being Auntie to the greatest.niece.ever IS my "perfect family."
Thus, we no longer will be fostering. We will no longer be considering adoption. We are happy to stay just as we are. Two late-thirty-somethings who enjoy having a house in a particular order and free of any hormonal/emotional meltdowns.
Do you know how I know I'm okay with never being a mom???? I found out someone is pregnant and, other than being happy for her and her husband, I didn't feel a single twinge of jealousy. I wasn't able to attend the baby shower when she had her first child four years ago because of "Fertility Envy". Today, I was elated for her and elated for myself. She'll have her two precious children and I'll have a quiet house and a wickedly awesome husband.
We both win!
So, take that infertility. You have no power over me anymore because what I learned was, I didn't like being a mom anyway!!
Booyah!
Friday, November 23, 2012
Day Late..but...
I'm a day late on my Thanksgiving What I'm Thankful For post. I spent yesterday with my family and that was more important then remembering this thing.
I am thankful for: my family. My mom just lost her best friend to cancer on Monday. She was 61 years old. My dad just turned 60 and my mom will turn 29 in March (I'm not stupid!). I'm so thankful they are healthy and still with me. When I think of my childhood friend Chris having to bury his mother at 37, well it just makes me sick.
I'm thankful for: seeing the happiness on my parents' faces when their granddaughter is around. Amelia is the life of our family. Her little giggles and smiles and her silliness are just so amazing that there are hardly any words to describe it. I can't believe she's going to be two. It seems like she's growing way too fast but it also seems like she's been in our family forever.
I'm thankful for: no longer grieving my infertility, miscarriage, or motherhood. I still look at the calendar on those "days" when I remember what was and should have been and I pause and sometimes I cry but I feel whatever emotion comes up and I move along. I'm not stuck in the past anymore.
I'm thankful for: my husband. Our story is crazy. It's unbelievable. But he's honestly my only true love. I was engaged before. I dated a lot. But never did I have a man who loved me and cared for me the way my husband does. He's my heart. He's my soul. He's my life. I love him.
I'm thankful for: my dog and my cats. They are my children and I love them so much. My Lola girl is almost 10. I get so sick thinking how old she's getting and the thought of her not being around breaks my heart but she's still spunky and she's just an awesome dog!!
I'm thankful for: finding out I'm crafty and can make money being crafty! I'll be doing my first craft fair on December 1st. I can't wait.
I'm thankful for so many things but most importantly I'm thankful for God. Without Him, I'd have none of the things I'm thankful for.
I hope you take time out of shopping and think about what you're thankful for.
I am thankful for: my family. My mom just lost her best friend to cancer on Monday. She was 61 years old. My dad just turned 60 and my mom will turn 29 in March (I'm not stupid!). I'm so thankful they are healthy and still with me. When I think of my childhood friend Chris having to bury his mother at 37, well it just makes me sick.
I'm thankful for: seeing the happiness on my parents' faces when their granddaughter is around. Amelia is the life of our family. Her little giggles and smiles and her silliness are just so amazing that there are hardly any words to describe it. I can't believe she's going to be two. It seems like she's growing way too fast but it also seems like she's been in our family forever.
I'm thankful for: no longer grieving my infertility, miscarriage, or motherhood. I still look at the calendar on those "days" when I remember what was and should have been and I pause and sometimes I cry but I feel whatever emotion comes up and I move along. I'm not stuck in the past anymore.
I'm thankful for: my dog and my cats. They are my children and I love them so much. My Lola girl is almost 10. I get so sick thinking how old she's getting and the thought of her not being around breaks my heart but she's still spunky and she's just an awesome dog!!
I'm thankful for: finding out I'm crafty and can make money being crafty! I'll be doing my first craft fair on December 1st. I can't wait.
I'm thankful for so many things but most importantly I'm thankful for God. Without Him, I'd have none of the things I'm thankful for.
I hope you take time out of shopping and think about what you're thankful for.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
I Have So Much to be Thankful For
this year. The year started out with us knowing we were going to have a completely different ending, but alas it didn't. We won't be playing Santa this year. That's kind of hurtful and okay at the same time. I'm still, two weeks out, perfectly content with how things have turned out.
We may have an interview next week regarding a young man we expressed interest in adopting. We're going to go to the interview and see how things go. We're still not 100% sure where we want to go from here.
I submitted a resume for a case management position at a local youth academy. I wonder if I'll get a call. I should. I have tons of experience. It's not that I WANT to go back to work but I need to go back: 1) to make sure I can afford the student loan payments when they come due; 2) to see if I can work or if I need to look into SSDI and 3) to get a part of myself back. To feel as if I have some importance.
Friday I'll be going to Charleston with my husband and extended family to prepare for the funeral of my mother's best friend. This woman was much like a second mother to me. She knew me from the day I was born. I can't imagine how difficult this will be on my mom and Sharon's family. It wasn't unexpected. She died from cancer. Cancer sucks. But even though her final days lasted two weeks and we just kept waiting to get the word she died, it doesn't make it any easier to accept. Life just isn't fair sometimes. I take faith in Sharon knew the Lord as her Savior and expressed to her family she saw Jesus with her. Waiting on her. Praise God for his faithfulness.
I hope everyone has a wonderful turkey day. My sleepy meds are kicking in. Night.
We may have an interview next week regarding a young man we expressed interest in adopting. We're going to go to the interview and see how things go. We're still not 100% sure where we want to go from here.
I submitted a resume for a case management position at a local youth academy. I wonder if I'll get a call. I should. I have tons of experience. It's not that I WANT to go back to work but I need to go back: 1) to make sure I can afford the student loan payments when they come due; 2) to see if I can work or if I need to look into SSDI and 3) to get a part of myself back. To feel as if I have some importance.
Friday I'll be going to Charleston with my husband and extended family to prepare for the funeral of my mother's best friend. This woman was much like a second mother to me. She knew me from the day I was born. I can't imagine how difficult this will be on my mom and Sharon's family. It wasn't unexpected. She died from cancer. Cancer sucks. But even though her final days lasted two weeks and we just kept waiting to get the word she died, it doesn't make it any easier to accept. Life just isn't fair sometimes. I take faith in Sharon knew the Lord as her Savior and expressed to her family she saw Jesus with her. Waiting on her. Praise God for his faithfulness.
I hope everyone has a wonderful turkey day. My sleepy meds are kicking in. Night.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
A Week and A Few Days Out
and we're still feeling at peace with our decision to stop fostering, at least for the foreseeable future. We are really enjoying being a couple again. The longer we go without children the more we seem to close the door on being parents.
There's a part of me that says, "if we just try boys ages 7-10 maybe things could/would be different." But right now I'd have to talk my husband into trying again. He's pretty much relieved to have our freedom back. And of course less responsibility is awesome.
There's also my health to consider. I just had my chemo infusion today which means I saw my doctor. I don't know if I mentioned this in previous posts, but I had been having some severe pain/swelling/redness/warmth in my right elbow. Found out it wasn't an infected joint (Praise Jesus!) and it wasn't gout (woot woot!) but rather I've begun to develop Rheumatoid nodules. The chemo is supposed to be preventing them. The doctor said there's chance it may be absorbed into my body; however, everything I've read from Dr. Google says otherwise. I think my doc was trying to give me a positive spin. My worry: other than looking like a freak-a-zoid with outwardly deformed joints? The fact these nodules will show up in my lungs.
This past weekend we went down to my brother/sister-in-law/niece's house to celebrate my SIL's bday. My niece continues to blow my mind and melt my heart. I wish I could spend more time with her.
Wow. Left this post as a draft four days ago. Better post it huh?
There's a part of me that says, "if we just try boys ages 7-10 maybe things could/would be different." But right now I'd have to talk my husband into trying again. He's pretty much relieved to have our freedom back. And of course less responsibility is awesome.
There's also my health to consider. I just had my chemo infusion today which means I saw my doctor. I don't know if I mentioned this in previous posts, but I had been having some severe pain/swelling/redness/warmth in my right elbow. Found out it wasn't an infected joint (Praise Jesus!) and it wasn't gout (woot woot!) but rather I've begun to develop Rheumatoid nodules. The chemo is supposed to be preventing them. The doctor said there's chance it may be absorbed into my body; however, everything I've read from Dr. Google says otherwise. I think my doc was trying to give me a positive spin. My worry: other than looking like a freak-a-zoid with outwardly deformed joints? The fact these nodules will show up in my lungs.
This past weekend we went down to my brother/sister-in-law/niece's house to celebrate my SIL's bday. My niece continues to blow my mind and melt my heart. I wish I could spend more time with her.
Wow. Left this post as a draft four days ago. Better post it huh?
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Empty Nesters
Well, it's officially been two days since we rejoined the ranks of childless married couples. I'm going to be very honest with you, it feels amazing. And this isn't something I feel alone, my husband is also enjoying our new found freedom.
If you were to ask my husband (and I have often since Monday at 10am) if he thinks he'd like to try fostering again, he will tell you no. I still have a lingering pull to have the family I wanted. Well, let me rephrase that: I still have a lingering pull to have children; however, what I came to realize about myself is that I have the family that I do want, at least for right now and maybe forever: I have my husband, our dog, cats, and my parents, and my brother and his beautiful wife, and my adorable niece, and my dear friends who are very much my family. I'm enjoying my life right now.
What happened you ask? Well it was a mix of things. Here in another year I'll be finished with grad school and I will be a Masters level therapist and as much as I love counseling people, I learned I don't enjoy doing it 24/7. I learned that while I was able to be successful working with foster children in the capacity of a social worker, I had no idea how much, how hard, it would be to do that work 24/7. The fights, the fears, the anger, the resentment (both on the part of the kids and my own resentment of the work/loss of freedom), and the liability.
We were hit right out of the gate with teenagers. Teenage girls. I never wanted girls but was so happy to get the referrals that I jumped at them. If, and that's a capital I-F, we ever accept another referral it will not be for girls and the ages will go down to between 7-10 when the children will be a little more flexible with discipline and hormones aren't raging.
I also realize I may never get to the point where I want to accept another referral. Ever. And I have to tell you, I'm okay with that. I always had a "the grass is greener on the other side" approach to life and I have found that yes, the grass may be greener but it's because the other side has more fertilizer (read: shit) and needs cut more often than then the less green grass I was running from.
Yes, my husband and I were good parents. Some of our friends and family said we were great parents though I don't think it's wise to get carried away. I learned I don't have a very mothering maternal side. Especially when I had to deal with a sick child. If I'm being honest, I was more disgusted with having to take care of sick children. Not because I didn't like them but as a chemotherapy patient I have to worry about everything, the smallest of colds can get away from me and cause me to end up in the hospital. I found myself so much more afraid of getting sick then I was focused on getting them well.
I don't miss the fighting. I don't miss being screamed at. I don't miss being lied about, to, and on. I don't miss being cursed at. I don't miss wondering if tonight is going to be the night she runs again. I don't miss worrying about running into biological parents/siblings. I don't miss not feeling comfortable in my own house. I don't miss locking up all my medications. I don't miss trying to find a sitter when I needed a break and how limited my sitter options were because of the rules of state. I don't miss a social worker who was a complete and total waste of salary for the agency. I don't miss mood swings. I don't miss the looks from the public whenever one of the girls would sass-mouth me in public. I don't miss the feelings of depression I was having. I don't miss my own anger and frustrations with "why isn't this working?" I don't miss parenting.
I miss giggles from happy days. I miss feeling like I was helping someone have a better life. I miss feeling like maybe, just maybe, someone might call me mom. But I also miss having extra money to spend on my niece. I miss being able to visit my parents, especially when my brother and his family come in, and stay as long as I want without having to entertain someone.
I look at my husband and I see that as long as I have him to lean on and love and his support and love I have more than enough. I have two parents who are healthy, a brother and sister who gave me a niece who brings such joy to my life, a warm home and friends who would walk through fire to support me (and trust me in the last four months they have). I have salvation from a mighty and loving God. I may not have 100% of my health, but in just the two days I've had without the stress of parenting my health has greatly improved. Depression, anger, frustration, and desperation are powerful forces that are so negative and destructive on every facet of life.
So, after four months of fostering and four weeks of going back and forth as to whether or not this was for us, we have found maybe not. We haven't 100% closed the door on trying again (unless they choose not to work with us again because I pretty much demanded the child be moved within three days and I got pretty nasty at the end). But right now, we are okay. We are happy. We aren't even considering revisiting the notion of continuing to foster or letting our license expire until after the first of the year.
If you were to ask my husband (and I have often since Monday at 10am) if he thinks he'd like to try fostering again, he will tell you no. I still have a lingering pull to have the family I wanted. Well, let me rephrase that: I still have a lingering pull to have children; however, what I came to realize about myself is that I have the family that I do want, at least for right now and maybe forever: I have my husband, our dog, cats, and my parents, and my brother and his beautiful wife, and my adorable niece, and my dear friends who are very much my family. I'm enjoying my life right now.
What happened you ask? Well it was a mix of things. Here in another year I'll be finished with grad school and I will be a Masters level therapist and as much as I love counseling people, I learned I don't enjoy doing it 24/7. I learned that while I was able to be successful working with foster children in the capacity of a social worker, I had no idea how much, how hard, it would be to do that work 24/7. The fights, the fears, the anger, the resentment (both on the part of the kids and my own resentment of the work/loss of freedom), and the liability.
We were hit right out of the gate with teenagers. Teenage girls. I never wanted girls but was so happy to get the referrals that I jumped at them. If, and that's a capital I-F, we ever accept another referral it will not be for girls and the ages will go down to between 7-10 when the children will be a little more flexible with discipline and hormones aren't raging.
I also realize I may never get to the point where I want to accept another referral. Ever. And I have to tell you, I'm okay with that. I always had a "the grass is greener on the other side" approach to life and I have found that yes, the grass may be greener but it's because the other side has more fertilizer (read: shit) and needs cut more often than then the less green grass I was running from.
Yes, my husband and I were good parents. Some of our friends and family said we were great parents though I don't think it's wise to get carried away. I learned I don't have a very mothering maternal side. Especially when I had to deal with a sick child. If I'm being honest, I was more disgusted with having to take care of sick children. Not because I didn't like them but as a chemotherapy patient I have to worry about everything, the smallest of colds can get away from me and cause me to end up in the hospital. I found myself so much more afraid of getting sick then I was focused on getting them well.
I don't miss the fighting. I don't miss being screamed at. I don't miss being lied about, to, and on. I don't miss being cursed at. I don't miss wondering if tonight is going to be the night she runs again. I don't miss worrying about running into biological parents/siblings. I don't miss not feeling comfortable in my own house. I don't miss locking up all my medications. I don't miss trying to find a sitter when I needed a break and how limited my sitter options were because of the rules of state. I don't miss a social worker who was a complete and total waste of salary for the agency. I don't miss mood swings. I don't miss the looks from the public whenever one of the girls would sass-mouth me in public. I don't miss the feelings of depression I was having. I don't miss my own anger and frustrations with "why isn't this working?" I don't miss parenting.
I miss giggles from happy days. I miss feeling like I was helping someone have a better life. I miss feeling like maybe, just maybe, someone might call me mom. But I also miss having extra money to spend on my niece. I miss being able to visit my parents, especially when my brother and his family come in, and stay as long as I want without having to entertain someone.
I look at my husband and I see that as long as I have him to lean on and love and his support and love I have more than enough. I have two parents who are healthy, a brother and sister who gave me a niece who brings such joy to my life, a warm home and friends who would walk through fire to support me (and trust me in the last four months they have). I have salvation from a mighty and loving God. I may not have 100% of my health, but in just the two days I've had without the stress of parenting my health has greatly improved. Depression, anger, frustration, and desperation are powerful forces that are so negative and destructive on every facet of life.
So, after four months of fostering and four weeks of going back and forth as to whether or not this was for us, we have found maybe not. We haven't 100% closed the door on trying again (unless they choose not to work with us again because I pretty much demanded the child be moved within three days and I got pretty nasty at the end). But right now, we are okay. We are happy. We aren't even considering revisiting the notion of continuing to foster or letting our license expire until after the first of the year.
Friday, November 2, 2012
The Way We Were
I have reached a point of no return and I seriously mean it this time. Our time as foster parents will come to a close within the next three to four days, at the most.
I have held on and held on because I have felt a tremendous amount of guilt. Guilt that if it didn't work with us the child would be placed in a residential facility. I don't wish that on anyone. That's why I have continued to bang my head against the wall with little to no change all the while longing for my life pre-foster parent life.
I miss my old life. I know this is a common thing that many parents go through and I never wanted to look at foster parenting as an easy way out; however, I had a realization as I was getting cursed out for the millionth time that I do have an easy way out. Although it's not that easy.
If I had my way I would pack her up while she's at school tomorrow and tell the foster care agency to pick her up from school and be done with this whole fiasco. We're giving them until Monday at the latest. And this time my husband is 100% on board. Before he didn't want to give up the dream. I long since abandoned the dream.
I don't know what I expected. I know what I hoped would happen and we all know that hasn't happened not a single time. Do I chuck this up as a personal failure? No. I don't. I gave 200% of myself for this. What happened is we have a child who doesn't want help. She doesn't appear to want a family, love, affection, or any kind of stability.
I'm a counselor. I know all the pyschobabble and mumbo jumbo. I know she's probably never experienced real love and doesn't know how to accept it and how it scares her, blah blah blah. There's only so much of that I can allow to explain the complete and utter abusive behavior we've experienced. Today was the tipping point. We had already made the decision to dissolve the family prior to the tonight's outburst. But tonight's outburst sealed the deal. I no longer feel a connection. There's no relationship there anymore.
I feel so bad for being so blunt. But honestly that's where I'm at. I don't want to do this anymore. I no longer feel the pull to be a mother. I realize that I enjoyed my life 200% better and I was unable to see it because I was so focused on what I didn't have than on what I really had.
So, this is the last weekend we will have a child in the home and I cannot tell you how wonderful that feels. Maybe we'll go back and foster again, but honestly, I don't see that happening. I praise those of you who can foster, but it isn't right for everyone and it most certainly, at least the two children we've had, isn't right for us.
I have held on and held on because I have felt a tremendous amount of guilt. Guilt that if it didn't work with us the child would be placed in a residential facility. I don't wish that on anyone. That's why I have continued to bang my head against the wall with little to no change all the while longing for my life pre-foster parent life.
I miss my old life. I know this is a common thing that many parents go through and I never wanted to look at foster parenting as an easy way out; however, I had a realization as I was getting cursed out for the millionth time that I do have an easy way out. Although it's not that easy.
If I had my way I would pack her up while she's at school tomorrow and tell the foster care agency to pick her up from school and be done with this whole fiasco. We're giving them until Monday at the latest. And this time my husband is 100% on board. Before he didn't want to give up the dream. I long since abandoned the dream.
I don't know what I expected. I know what I hoped would happen and we all know that hasn't happened not a single time. Do I chuck this up as a personal failure? No. I don't. I gave 200% of myself for this. What happened is we have a child who doesn't want help. She doesn't appear to want a family, love, affection, or any kind of stability.
I'm a counselor. I know all the pyschobabble and mumbo jumbo. I know she's probably never experienced real love and doesn't know how to accept it and how it scares her, blah blah blah. There's only so much of that I can allow to explain the complete and utter abusive behavior we've experienced. Today was the tipping point. We had already made the decision to dissolve the family prior to the tonight's outburst. But tonight's outburst sealed the deal. I no longer feel a connection. There's no relationship there anymore.
I feel so bad for being so blunt. But honestly that's where I'm at. I don't want to do this anymore. I no longer feel the pull to be a mother. I realize that I enjoyed my life 200% better and I was unable to see it because I was so focused on what I didn't have than on what I really had.
So, this is the last weekend we will have a child in the home and I cannot tell you how wonderful that feels. Maybe we'll go back and foster again, but honestly, I don't see that happening. I praise those of you who can foster, but it isn't right for everyone and it most certainly, at least the two children we've had, isn't right for us.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Disjointed, Disconnected, and Disappointed
I have no idea where to start this. I'm not happy. I'm not happy at all. I'm ready to throw in the towel and go back to "my life." A life that I thought was missing so much that I had to go and mess with it only to realize I miss the old life more than I enjoy what I thought I was missing in my new life.
I never wanted kids until I got married. I never *really* wanted kids until I couldn't easily have them. I never *had* to have kids until I couldn't have them. Now that I've had the chance to be a mom I have to honestly say, other than a few instances, I'm not enjoying it one bit.
Maybe it's the age I started with. We started with teenagers right out of the box. Teenagers suck. Harsh? Maybe. The truth? Absolutely. Teenage girls. Don't get me started.
I feel so ungrateful when I complain how unhappy I am. I get friends telling me how this is such a blessing and I'm doing such a good service. I get people who are brazen enough to think they know what I think, how I feel, and what I want and don't have any issues with telling me these things. 9/10 they are wrong.
We've had little to no help from the social worker assigned to our home. She's more often than not clueless. Lyric has no desire to speak to her and the SW just sort of sits here and I do all the talking. I have to do the therapy (of which Lyric has not had since 9/11). I bitch and bitch and bitch but yet I get no where.
Then I find more and more little ways in which I've been lied about. Ways that center around neglectful behavior: I get mad when she calls home sick from school (the latest) or I forbid her to see the school nurse. These little things probably don't cause any of you to think, "well, that's just shitty" but the truth is how long until one of these little lies turn into bigger lies that effect my husband or I and ruin our lives?
She's got the mentality that she has a team of workers who are at her beck and call and every time I try to institute rules in this house she's got to call someone and complain because she doesn't have "freedom" and "space." She's 13.
I'm at a loss. I'm a very liberal parent. I'm not overly strict. So it really pisses me off when I get "tattled" on when I try to discipline her.
I'm going to give therapy a chance. But if by the first of the year we haven't seen any positive changes then I'm going back to my old life: happily married to my best friend. This entire ordeal has been very difficult on my marriage. And that's the ONE thing I refuse to allow go south.
I never wanted kids until I got married. I never *really* wanted kids until I couldn't easily have them. I never *had* to have kids until I couldn't have them. Now that I've had the chance to be a mom I have to honestly say, other than a few instances, I'm not enjoying it one bit.
Maybe it's the age I started with. We started with teenagers right out of the box. Teenagers suck. Harsh? Maybe. The truth? Absolutely. Teenage girls. Don't get me started.
I feel so ungrateful when I complain how unhappy I am. I get friends telling me how this is such a blessing and I'm doing such a good service. I get people who are brazen enough to think they know what I think, how I feel, and what I want and don't have any issues with telling me these things. 9/10 they are wrong.
We've had little to no help from the social worker assigned to our home. She's more often than not clueless. Lyric has no desire to speak to her and the SW just sort of sits here and I do all the talking. I have to do the therapy (of which Lyric has not had since 9/11). I bitch and bitch and bitch but yet I get no where.
Then I find more and more little ways in which I've been lied about. Ways that center around neglectful behavior: I get mad when she calls home sick from school (the latest) or I forbid her to see the school nurse. These little things probably don't cause any of you to think, "well, that's just shitty" but the truth is how long until one of these little lies turn into bigger lies that effect my husband or I and ruin our lives?
She's got the mentality that she has a team of workers who are at her beck and call and every time I try to institute rules in this house she's got to call someone and complain because she doesn't have "freedom" and "space." She's 13.
I'm at a loss. I'm a very liberal parent. I'm not overly strict. So it really pisses me off when I get "tattled" on when I try to discipline her.
I'm going to give therapy a chance. But if by the first of the year we haven't seen any positive changes then I'm going back to my old life: happily married to my best friend. This entire ordeal has been very difficult on my marriage. And that's the ONE thing I refuse to allow go south.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Rocky Roads
And I'm not talking about ice cream. Things around here have been very difficult this week. Of course I'm not going into specifics but suffice it to say we've experienced our first major hurdle in foster/adoptive parenting.
The positive: we survived it. The negative: I have worries I didn't have three days ago. The positive: after a two hour meeting with the social worker things are patched up. The negative: I allowed myself to get into a power struggle with Lyric. The positive: I think we're back to normal. The negative: I've lost some trust with her.
Yesterday I was emotionally, physically, psychologically exhausted. I'd had only 6 hours of sleep in 48 hours and I had been smarted off by a "I'm Grown and know it all 13 year old" but also by a "I'm wearing a gun and a badge so I know what I'm talking about police officer." I literally spent 5 hours on the phone between three social workers, my mother, my best friend, and my husband trying to make things better. Next thing I know: she and I are fighting because she wants to think she's grown. She doesn't trust us because we have lost trust in her. She doesn't like us because she's chosen to take what happened, put her own spin on it, and refuse to face reality.
We had an emotional night of talking it out. When she said that she didn't have a father my husband instantly teared up. We were talking about being her parents and not trying to take anything away from her mother and father. She meant she's never really had a father but it came out wrong and shattered my husband's heart. After two hours of back and forth and me doing more talking than anyone else in the room (what else is new?) I made Jeff tell Lyric who was now sitting on the couch between the SW and Jeff how he felt. He was very resistant. It wasn't normal for him to have his parents tell him he loved them so I knew this was hard but in the middle of convincing him to tell this little girl how he feels about her, I got tearful for the 4,539,239 time and made him. He told her he loves her and can't imagine having any other daughter than her.
It's going to take awhile before she is able to accept unconditional love. It's an extremely foreign concept to her. We know she's testing us. We knew this day would come at some point. We have to make sure we don't take her attacks and resistance personally. This is very hard to do especially when we have so much invested in her: so much emotion and love.
We'll make it. One day at a time. But I kindly ask, Jesus please take the wheel because I'm unable to drive under the influence of emotion.
Pray for us.
The positive: we survived it. The negative: I have worries I didn't have three days ago. The positive: after a two hour meeting with the social worker things are patched up. The negative: I allowed myself to get into a power struggle with Lyric. The positive: I think we're back to normal. The negative: I've lost some trust with her.
Yesterday I was emotionally, physically, psychologically exhausted. I'd had only 6 hours of sleep in 48 hours and I had been smarted off by a "I'm Grown and know it all 13 year old" but also by a "I'm wearing a gun and a badge so I know what I'm talking about police officer." I literally spent 5 hours on the phone between three social workers, my mother, my best friend, and my husband trying to make things better. Next thing I know: she and I are fighting because she wants to think she's grown. She doesn't trust us because we have lost trust in her. She doesn't like us because she's chosen to take what happened, put her own spin on it, and refuse to face reality.
We had an emotional night of talking it out. When she said that she didn't have a father my husband instantly teared up. We were talking about being her parents and not trying to take anything away from her mother and father. She meant she's never really had a father but it came out wrong and shattered my husband's heart. After two hours of back and forth and me doing more talking than anyone else in the room (what else is new?) I made Jeff tell Lyric who was now sitting on the couch between the SW and Jeff how he felt. He was very resistant. It wasn't normal for him to have his parents tell him he loved them so I knew this was hard but in the middle of convincing him to tell this little girl how he feels about her, I got tearful for the 4,539,239 time and made him. He told her he loves her and can't imagine having any other daughter than her.
It's going to take awhile before she is able to accept unconditional love. It's an extremely foreign concept to her. We know she's testing us. We knew this day would come at some point. We have to make sure we don't take her attacks and resistance personally. This is very hard to do especially when we have so much invested in her: so much emotion and love.
We'll make it. One day at a time. But I kindly ask, Jesus please take the wheel because I'm unable to drive under the influence of emotion.
Pray for us.
Monday, October 1, 2012
What's Happenin?
Long time no posting. Things have been organized chaos here at the T household. Where to start. Is everyone okay with a bullet post?? No? Well, you're going to have to learn to deal with disappointment!
*Not his real name.
- The last time we met, Lyric had been in the ER with pneumonia. I am happy to say that she is 100% better.
- Because of reasons I haven't gone into here in Bloggerville, we are now a three person family. Sophia has gone to live with another foster family. The decision to ask for her to be removed wasn't an easy decision but it was the best decision. I struggled with the decision for a very long time (even though she was only here three months) I really did struggle for a long time knowing that she was not a good match for our parenting styles and the other personalities in the home. The day we packed her up and moved her was very difficult but we've fallen into a new groove and we're all doing well.
- Lyric started and has since decided to stop going to gymnastics. Today was to be her fourth class but she talked to me and said that right now she feels like she's going through enough and would like to hold off on gymnastics until maybe the summer. I do believe that it did not appear that her heart was in it and right now her grades and adjustment are more important that cartwheels and back handsprings.
- My husband's company has purchased over a million dollars worth of new equipment that he will be responsible in implementing, maintaining, and training all staff how to use. To say he's stressed out would be like saying peas taste like skittles.
- I'm two weeks away from the end of the first term of my classes and right now I have As in my classes and two HUGE papers to write. In fact, I'm supposed to be reading research articles for my paper on treating children with PTSD right now but I'm blogging instead.
- Lyric has been asking to volunteer at the local humane society. She's also been asking for a puppy but a kitten would work since we cannot have a puppy. We *could* have a puppy but a) I don't want to go through the puppy stage again any time soon and b) our dog is 10 and does not like other dogs. She's reached the old bitchy woman stage of doghood. I think she and I are going through The Change together.
- Lyric volunteered for the first time yesterday at the humane society.
- Snickers, a 12 week old calico joined our family yesterday.
- That makes seven cats. Snickers joins her siblings: Lola, a stinky fluffy hairy dog whose big fluffy tail making for the best.kitten.toy.ever, and feline siblings: Yetta, Naomi, Vegas, Punkin, Marvin, and Farty.
- We're checking Craig's list for a partridge and Home Depot for pear trees.
- My health is borderline right now. As I've mentioned before I have RA and I take chemotherapy in two forms: IV and pill. My IV form has been increased as much as possible and my pill form had been reduced but increased again. I'm on a new medication to keep the chemotherapy from stressing out my liver, kidneys, and to help keep my hair from falling out.
- I have a CT scan in the morning because I've lost almost all my hearing in my left ear and it has been congested and oozing nasty stuff for a month now. The ENT I saw believes I need a tube inserted (I had them when I was six until I was 15 and they were surgically removed) and the CT scan is because he is worried the RA has begun affecting the bones/joints of my ear.
- I've been researching a diets to help my health. I need a diet for weight loss; however, I need more of an elimination diet that eliminates foods that may be causing the horrendous eczema outbreaks I've been having as well as controlling the inflammation in my body. Weight loss will be a byproduct but for once in my life isn't the sole reason for dieting.
- Our WVU Mountaineers are 4-0 and are EXPLOSIVE! We just recently joined the Big XII and are doing pretty well. We play Texas Saturday so we're nervous but still believing here in Mountaineer Nation.
- This Saturday we will be waking up at 4am and on the road by 5 am to take Lyric and her brother Brady* to a pumpkin festival in Milton WV. I'm praying that my RA won't be too much of a bother because I know a lot of walking is involved.
*Not his real name.
Monday, September 3, 2012
First Time For Everything
Last night (or very early this morning however you choose to look at it) was my very first rushing-a-sick-kid-to-the-emergency-room-scared-shitless experience.
Lyric had been treated a two weeks ago today for a sinus infection with a 10 day course of antibiotics that she completed. Friday I get a phone call asking me to come pick her up and hour early because she felt as if she had a UTI and was in pain and not feeling well. Because our doctor does not have Friday hours, I took her to the local quick care clinic. They evaluated her and while her urine did not show any sign of infection, they gave her an antibiotic and sent her urine away for a culture. We got her antibiotic filled the next day.
Roughly an hour or two after her first antibiotic pill, she vomited. We deduced she vomited from the antibiotic and told her since her urine didn't show infection that she could try taking a second dose or wait to see what the culture revealed. I don't believe in giving antibiotics if there's no infection.
Sunday I woke up with a terrible cold and I'm going on a week of fighting a weird ear infection where my ear is constantly clogged with yellow gunk running out of it so given my immunosuppressed state (thanks Chemo!) I stayed in bed all day. I finally joined the family around 7:30pm and Lyric, my husband and I watched a movie. Lyric was fine. She had small complaints of achiness and just not feeling well.
Within a matter of minutes Lyric went from asking questions about a movie to almost panting/hyperventilating. She would not answer questions, she was shaking and I knew something was very wrong. I first thought it was a panic/anxiety attack. When Lyric did speak she'd just say "can't breathe" and "my heart hurts." We all changed our clothes as I ran through "do I call an ambulance or do I just take her to the ER?" Figuring it would take longer to get an ambulance, we put her in the car and off we went.
I kept trying to talk her through slowing her breathing. It wasn't working and I was panicking myself so I told Jeff to talk her to normal breathing. We pulled into the ER parking area and rushed her in to sign in. She was still taking very quick shallow breaths and they moved her immediately to triage. Her O2 and BP were okay but her heart rate was 155. I almost hit the floor.
Over the course of four hours we went from talking her through breathing, getting an iv, EKG, chest xray, CT scan to rule out a PE and then we waited. Jeff was in and out of the room because Sophia was in the waiting room and it was after midnight on a weekend.
I explained to the nurse that Lyric has not had very positive experiences with hospitals in the past and she has dealt with more in her life than most people could imagine or comprehend. She said Lyric may be using a panic attack in order to gain attention and not to be surprised if she was do this in the future. I kindly but sternly told the nurse, "you're a nurse and you know medical stuff. I'm a therapist so I know mental illness. You do what you're trained to do and I'll worry about what I'm trained to do."
Within an hour of being in the ER, she spiked a 101.4 fever. While I didn't want her to be sick, I felt a little vindication that I knew it was more than panic. I never left her side, not when they drew her blood, not when they did the EKG, not when they did the chest xray, and I stood right beside her rubbing her arms wearing a royal blue metal vest while she got her CT scan. I wasn't leaving her. In fact they wanted to draw blood from her artery (and I KNOW how painful that is) and I told them I would NOT consent to that unless every other test they performed left them no other options than to do the draw but it would be the very last option. Thankfully it wasn't needed.
Four hours and some IV antibiotics later, we left with a pneumonia diagnosis and a nurse telling me that she had never seen foster parents care that much about their foster children. I don't add that to pat myself on the back. I add that because it's a shame that sick and very scared kids don't have the same type of compassion from a parental figure in that kind of situation.
We got home around 4 am. I couldn't unwind to sleep until 6am and was awake by 9:30am. I'm tired and exhausted and praying I don't catch any germs I may have come into contact with last night. But more than anything, I'm happy she's okay.
I've always heard parents say how scary it is to have a sick child and how they wished they could trade places with their children. I never understood that feeling until last night. It was the most terrified and helpless I've ever felt in my life.
We've had challenges becoming a family of four and I've had many doubts about whether or not I made the right decision to become a mom. I worried I wasn't cut out for being a mom but last night showed me our training social worker was right: I'm definitely cut out for this.
**Names used are not their actual names**
Lyric had been treated a two weeks ago today for a sinus infection with a 10 day course of antibiotics that she completed. Friday I get a phone call asking me to come pick her up and hour early because she felt as if she had a UTI and was in pain and not feeling well. Because our doctor does not have Friday hours, I took her to the local quick care clinic. They evaluated her and while her urine did not show any sign of infection, they gave her an antibiotic and sent her urine away for a culture. We got her antibiotic filled the next day.
Roughly an hour or two after her first antibiotic pill, she vomited. We deduced she vomited from the antibiotic and told her since her urine didn't show infection that she could try taking a second dose or wait to see what the culture revealed. I don't believe in giving antibiotics if there's no infection.
Sunday I woke up with a terrible cold and I'm going on a week of fighting a weird ear infection where my ear is constantly clogged with yellow gunk running out of it so given my immunosuppressed state (thanks Chemo!) I stayed in bed all day. I finally joined the family around 7:30pm and Lyric, my husband and I watched a movie. Lyric was fine. She had small complaints of achiness and just not feeling well.
Within a matter of minutes Lyric went from asking questions about a movie to almost panting/hyperventilating. She would not answer questions, she was shaking and I knew something was very wrong. I first thought it was a panic/anxiety attack. When Lyric did speak she'd just say "can't breathe" and "my heart hurts." We all changed our clothes as I ran through "do I call an ambulance or do I just take her to the ER?" Figuring it would take longer to get an ambulance, we put her in the car and off we went.
I kept trying to talk her through slowing her breathing. It wasn't working and I was panicking myself so I told Jeff to talk her to normal breathing. We pulled into the ER parking area and rushed her in to sign in. She was still taking very quick shallow breaths and they moved her immediately to triage. Her O2 and BP were okay but her heart rate was 155. I almost hit the floor.
Over the course of four hours we went from talking her through breathing, getting an iv, EKG, chest xray, CT scan to rule out a PE and then we waited. Jeff was in and out of the room because Sophia was in the waiting room and it was after midnight on a weekend.
I explained to the nurse that Lyric has not had very positive experiences with hospitals in the past and she has dealt with more in her life than most people could imagine or comprehend. She said Lyric may be using a panic attack in order to gain attention and not to be surprised if she was do this in the future. I kindly but sternly told the nurse, "you're a nurse and you know medical stuff. I'm a therapist so I know mental illness. You do what you're trained to do and I'll worry about what I'm trained to do."
Within an hour of being in the ER, she spiked a 101.4 fever. While I didn't want her to be sick, I felt a little vindication that I knew it was more than panic. I never left her side, not when they drew her blood, not when they did the EKG, not when they did the chest xray, and I stood right beside her rubbing her arms wearing a royal blue metal vest while she got her CT scan. I wasn't leaving her. In fact they wanted to draw blood from her artery (and I KNOW how painful that is) and I told them I would NOT consent to that unless every other test they performed left them no other options than to do the draw but it would be the very last option. Thankfully it wasn't needed.
Four hours and some IV antibiotics later, we left with a pneumonia diagnosis and a nurse telling me that she had never seen foster parents care that much about their foster children. I don't add that to pat myself on the back. I add that because it's a shame that sick and very scared kids don't have the same type of compassion from a parental figure in that kind of situation.
We got home around 4 am. I couldn't unwind to sleep until 6am and was awake by 9:30am. I'm tired and exhausted and praying I don't catch any germs I may have come into contact with last night. But more than anything, I'm happy she's okay.
I've always heard parents say how scary it is to have a sick child and how they wished they could trade places with their children. I never understood that feeling until last night. It was the most terrified and helpless I've ever felt in my life.
We've had challenges becoming a family of four and I've had many doubts about whether or not I made the right decision to become a mom. I worried I wasn't cut out for being a mom but last night showed me our training social worker was right: I'm definitely cut out for this.
**Names used are not their actual names**
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
The Odd Life of Allison T.
Today was the last day of summer vacation and I took my daughters to see the Odd Life of Timothy Green. I don't think we were five minutes into the movie before I started crying. It brought back so many memories: happy ones, sad ones, and angry ones.
I had that conversation with a doctor. The "we've done everything medically possible but with your conditions if we do manage to get your pregnant again you'll have the same result: first trimester miscarriage. Your body is not conducive to children."
"Your body is not conducive to children."
I had a box. A pretty and expensive carved wooden box with an angel on the top and painted in rainbow colors. It held the only ultrasound picture I will ever have. The grief/loss/sympathy cards I got when we lost Miller (that's our baby's name) and my hospital bracelet and petals from flowers that were sent and a pair of socks I'd bought when I allowed myself to believe it was possible. I took it to work for a "share" day when all the counselors brought in something that changed us, forever defined us. I got busy and forgot to take it out of the car. My car was broken into, Jeff's work laptop was stolen and they took the box. In just the same instance as Miller was gone so were all of the only reminders I'd ever have of him.
Watching the parents in the movie bury their "child" it brought back memories of that box. They wrote their hopes and dreams for their child on paper and placed it in a carved wooden box and all my hopes and dreams had at one time been stored in a carved wooden box.
Watching this play out on the big screen caused me to sit back and remember what was once a very big part of my life. The parents tell the story of Timothy as they are speaking to an adoption agency. Timothy was only with them for a short period of time. Just enough to show them that they are capable of being parents.
Sitting two rows in front of me were my two girls. They didn't show up out of no where but they might as well have. I know very little about their pasts. I don't know much of their stories. I don't know the pain they have felt or still feel. I just know that lately I haven't been 100% certain if we should be parents. If we're capable of being good parents. Teen girls aren't easy. Foster parenting isn't easy. Going from being happily married just the two of you to a family of four with each person bringing his/her own baggage to the table feels impossible most days.
I cried through 80% of the movie. I realized that no matter how long I live I'll always miss what would've been. I'll always worry if what I'm doing is right. But I'll always be thankful for what I have had and do have.
I had that conversation with a doctor. The "we've done everything medically possible but with your conditions if we do manage to get your pregnant again you'll have the same result: first trimester miscarriage. Your body is not conducive to children."
"Your body is not conducive to children."
I had a box. A pretty and expensive carved wooden box with an angel on the top and painted in rainbow colors. It held the only ultrasound picture I will ever have. The grief/loss/sympathy cards I got when we lost Miller (that's our baby's name) and my hospital bracelet and petals from flowers that were sent and a pair of socks I'd bought when I allowed myself to believe it was possible. I took it to work for a "share" day when all the counselors brought in something that changed us, forever defined us. I got busy and forgot to take it out of the car. My car was broken into, Jeff's work laptop was stolen and they took the box. In just the same instance as Miller was gone so were all of the only reminders I'd ever have of him.
Watching the parents in the movie bury their "child" it brought back memories of that box. They wrote their hopes and dreams for their child on paper and placed it in a carved wooden box and all my hopes and dreams had at one time been stored in a carved wooden box.
Watching this play out on the big screen caused me to sit back and remember what was once a very big part of my life. The parents tell the story of Timothy as they are speaking to an adoption agency. Timothy was only with them for a short period of time. Just enough to show them that they are capable of being parents.
Sitting two rows in front of me were my two girls. They didn't show up out of no where but they might as well have. I know very little about their pasts. I don't know much of their stories. I don't know the pain they have felt or still feel. I just know that lately I haven't been 100% certain if we should be parents. If we're capable of being good parents. Teen girls aren't easy. Foster parenting isn't easy. Going from being happily married just the two of you to a family of four with each person bringing his/her own baggage to the table feels impossible most days.
I cried through 80% of the movie. I realized that no matter how long I live I'll always miss what would've been. I'll always worry if what I'm doing is right. But I'll always be thankful for what I have had and do have.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Consider Yourself on Notice
I figured it is time I address some things that have been increasingly raising my blood pressure. So, in an attempt to speak reason to those with the best of intentions (at least I choose to believe they have the best intentions) and to keep from assaulting someone either verbally, physically, or both, I've decided to put this out on the interwebs.
1. I AM a real mom. I am not a babysitter. I am not a social worker with two live in clients. I am a mom who worries at night when her child is sick. I am a mom who mends broken hearts only the hearts I mend aren't broken over silly things like boys and friend drama but trauma so disgusting and perverse that I, as a grown educated adult who professionally functions as a therapist, can't even comprehend.
2. This girls ARE my children. Yes, they have biological mothers. One daughter may still return to her biological mother. My other daughter will never return to her biological mother. But in my eyes there is no difference between the two. I AM their mother. They are MY children.
3. Yes, those of you who know us personally know we went from not having kids to two teenagers very quickly. All of you know that we are foster parents. We all know what it means for a child to be a foster child. However, this DOES NOT give you any right to ask them private, personal questions in the middle of Walmart, the street, or even in my own home about WHY they are in foster care. It's frankly none of your damn business and if they want to share that information with you I'm sure they'd rather not do it next to a whole bunch of strangers.
4. For people who do not know us personally we want them to look at us and think we've always been a family. That these girls are our biological children. This does not mean we are trying to replace the parents they have had. This is because we want a NORMAL life for two girls who haven't been fortunate enough to have what many of us consider "normal." We don't leave the house wearing tee-shirts that read: Foster Mom, Foster Dad, Foster Daughter. We dress like normal people because we are.
5. I don't care if your mama, grandmama, auntie, best friend's boyfriend's great aunt Bertha were foster parents please refrain from sharing 'horror stories' and definitely don't think you know everything that happens in the foster care system and how to best raise my daughters. Like I said, I'm a trained counselor and next year will be a Masters level therapist. I know all about dealing with emotional issues, mental illness, and trauma. I also know a thing or two about empathy and love and how to show it and express it.
6. If we see each other in public, don't introduce me and my daughters as your friend Allison and her "foster kids." This will get you unfriended from not just Facebook but from my LIFE.
7. Don't tell my girls you "understand them" or that explain how you were punished when you were a child so you "sympathize" with them. The punishments they have endured was worse than anything YOU could ever imagine.
8. Don't "sympathize" with them. They aren't broken. They aren't abnormal. They aren't aliens of a difference species. They are children. You're not their therapist or social worker so keep your Dr. Phil sound bites to yourself.
9. When I'm frustrated because I'm a mom to two tweenagers, don't tell me that it would be "easier" if they were "normal." Because that just makes you look ignant. (Yes, I meant to spell it that way).
10. All I ask is when you see us in public, when you see our daughters I want you to try to act the way you would act had I given birth to both of these girls and raised them for 12 and 13 years.
11. Under no circumstances should you EVER ask me in front of my children or ask them directly in front of us if we will be adopting them or if they want to be adopted. 1. It's none of your damn business and 2. We've been a family for 2 months. Adoption IS the plan if and when all parent rights are terminated IF the child wishes to be adopted. These adoptions will take place over a period of time and after family therapy to make sure it's the best option for them. Putting either my husband and I or my daughters on the spot is not appropriate. EVER.
We're a normal family brought together by unfortunate circumstances. My daughters have already been victimized in ways that sicken the deepest depths of my soul don't continue to make them feel different. Think about it: how would you feel if the life you were living (however miserable and abusive it was) was your normal and then all of a sudden you were put in a home with strangers and told, "this is your family now." How would you feel? I'd be scared shitless.
These girls are stronger, smarter, and wiser than most. No it hasn't been easy on them or on us. But I'm a very protected advocate (it's part of my real mom duties) and I will not tolerate anyone calling attention to their differences. We work very hard to protect their privacy and to make them feel safe, loved, comfortable. When we introduce them as our daughters to our friends they know our friends know they are in foster care. They aren't stupid. Maybe some of you need to think that just that introduction alone is difficult enough on them and you shouldn't follow up with "what county are you from?" or "who's your worker?" or "do you know so-n-so, she works at DHHR?"
Just say hello. Ask them if they are excited about school (not their "NEW" school, just school in general). Ask them what they have done this summer. Ask them about their hobbies or favorite shows or movies. And for the love of ALL that is holy, unless you have been involved with my children from the beginning and know what you're talking about, don't tell them, "You're with a good family now." We NEVER condemn the biological family regardless of what happened in the past. Family is family and by telling them how nice of a family we are sends the message of, "your other family was shitty."
My husband and I are raising children in the same difficult world you are. We face the same challenges and worries about school bullies, illness, raising strong, independent well-rounded children as you do. We just have a little bit more junk to work through than most. Don't pity us. Don't pity our daughters.
1. I AM a real mom. I am not a babysitter. I am not a social worker with two live in clients. I am a mom who worries at night when her child is sick. I am a mom who mends broken hearts only the hearts I mend aren't broken over silly things like boys and friend drama but trauma so disgusting and perverse that I, as a grown educated adult who professionally functions as a therapist, can't even comprehend.
2. This girls ARE my children. Yes, they have biological mothers. One daughter may still return to her biological mother. My other daughter will never return to her biological mother. But in my eyes there is no difference between the two. I AM their mother. They are MY children.
3. Yes, those of you who know us personally know we went from not having kids to two teenagers very quickly. All of you know that we are foster parents. We all know what it means for a child to be a foster child. However, this DOES NOT give you any right to ask them private, personal questions in the middle of Walmart, the street, or even in my own home about WHY they are in foster care. It's frankly none of your damn business and if they want to share that information with you I'm sure they'd rather not do it next to a whole bunch of strangers.
4. For people who do not know us personally we want them to look at us and think we've always been a family. That these girls are our biological children. This does not mean we are trying to replace the parents they have had. This is because we want a NORMAL life for two girls who haven't been fortunate enough to have what many of us consider "normal." We don't leave the house wearing tee-shirts that read: Foster Mom, Foster Dad, Foster Daughter. We dress like normal people because we are.
5. I don't care if your mama, grandmama, auntie, best friend's boyfriend's great aunt Bertha were foster parents please refrain from sharing 'horror stories' and definitely don't think you know everything that happens in the foster care system and how to best raise my daughters. Like I said, I'm a trained counselor and next year will be a Masters level therapist. I know all about dealing with emotional issues, mental illness, and trauma. I also know a thing or two about empathy and love and how to show it and express it.
6. If we see each other in public, don't introduce me and my daughters as your friend Allison and her "foster kids." This will get you unfriended from not just Facebook but from my LIFE.
7. Don't tell my girls you "understand them" or that explain how you were punished when you were a child so you "sympathize" with them. The punishments they have endured was worse than anything YOU could ever imagine.
8. Don't "sympathize" with them. They aren't broken. They aren't abnormal. They aren't aliens of a difference species. They are children. You're not their therapist or social worker so keep your Dr. Phil sound bites to yourself.
9. When I'm frustrated because I'm a mom to two tweenagers, don't tell me that it would be "easier" if they were "normal." Because that just makes you look ignant. (Yes, I meant to spell it that way).
10. All I ask is when you see us in public, when you see our daughters I want you to try to act the way you would act had I given birth to both of these girls and raised them for 12 and 13 years.
11. Under no circumstances should you EVER ask me in front of my children or ask them directly in front of us if we will be adopting them or if they want to be adopted. 1. It's none of your damn business and 2. We've been a family for 2 months. Adoption IS the plan if and when all parent rights are terminated IF the child wishes to be adopted. These adoptions will take place over a period of time and after family therapy to make sure it's the best option for them. Putting either my husband and I or my daughters on the spot is not appropriate. EVER.
We're a normal family brought together by unfortunate circumstances. My daughters have already been victimized in ways that sicken the deepest depths of my soul don't continue to make them feel different. Think about it: how would you feel if the life you were living (however miserable and abusive it was) was your normal and then all of a sudden you were put in a home with strangers and told, "this is your family now." How would you feel? I'd be scared shitless.
These girls are stronger, smarter, and wiser than most. No it hasn't been easy on them or on us. But I'm a very protected advocate (it's part of my real mom duties) and I will not tolerate anyone calling attention to their differences. We work very hard to protect their privacy and to make them feel safe, loved, comfortable. When we introduce them as our daughters to our friends they know our friends know they are in foster care. They aren't stupid. Maybe some of you need to think that just that introduction alone is difficult enough on them and you shouldn't follow up with "what county are you from?" or "who's your worker?" or "do you know so-n-so, she works at DHHR?"
Just say hello. Ask them if they are excited about school (not their "NEW" school, just school in general). Ask them what they have done this summer. Ask them about their hobbies or favorite shows or movies. And for the love of ALL that is holy, unless you have been involved with my children from the beginning and know what you're talking about, don't tell them, "You're with a good family now." We NEVER condemn the biological family regardless of what happened in the past. Family is family and by telling them how nice of a family we are sends the message of, "your other family was shitty."
My husband and I are raising children in the same difficult world you are. We face the same challenges and worries about school bullies, illness, raising strong, independent well-rounded children as you do. We just have a little bit more junk to work through than most. Don't pity us. Don't pity our daughters.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Failure Is An Option
So often we hear that failure is not an option. Those five words are supposed to make us believe that if we try hard enough, work diligently enough, and want it bad enough that failure will never enter into our lives. Those five words are bull puckey.
Failure is an option. Frankly, when it comes to foster parenting I have learned that all options must be on the table. That includes failure. Now, many counselors, social workers, foster parents, and other professionals may look at that statement as a foster mother who has resigned herself to fail. To give up. To surrender. Throw in the towel. That's not what I mean.
We've been going through some battles in this house. I've been going through these battles wearing two different hats, utilizing two different brands of logic, and what I have managed to accomplish is wearing myself out to the point where I don't want to try anymore but yet deep down I continue to push on. I picture the social workers in our lives snapping a whip and yelling at me to, "Mush! Mush!"
I have two daughters. Both have endured different types of situations. I won't be getting into those situations because they are not pertinent to the point I'm trying to make here. What is pertinent is one is very angry and the other is not. Or at least not so much.
Anger is a deadly disease. It will come into your home and infect all inhabitants and there's no medication, no quick cure to make it go away. There's no period of time when you can reasonably expect the anger to fade. I know this because, even though professionally I function as a therapist (when I'm not being a SAHM) but because I have had my own afflictions with anger.
Along with anger comes bullying. My youngest is full of anger. She wields that anger like a light saber (I'm not a Star Wars fan so I hope I used that term right) and it completely disrupts the moods, attitudes, and lives of everyone in the home. I've used various types of techniques to correct the negative behavior, the attitude, and the bullying. I've sunk as low as some good old fashioned passive aggressiveness. But not anymore.
Last night my husband, my daughters, and I had a family meeting. In that meeting I laid it all out as honest and free of bull puckey as possible: do you want to live her or not? I then went on to say that living here comes with certain expectations that I am no longer willing to budge on. In order to remain living here she will need to: treat all family members in the home with respect (watching tone of voice, the words she chooses, the non-verbal communication she expresses), she will no longer be able to talk to my 13 year old like she's been talking to her. She is to treat everyone in my family (extended, friends, professional or strangers that come into our home) and people she meets on the street with respect whether she feels she owes it to them or not. If she cannot abide by the simple rule of: do unto others as you would have them do unto you then this is not the right place for her and she will more than likely be moved to a third home.
I never wanted to pull this card. I never wanted to dangle that carrot. But I had to come to the realization that it's not a bait and switch tactic. It's not a dangled carrot to entice a desired behavior. It's simply the way it is going to be around here. It's simply what we, as parents, are willing to accept. It's a way of life that we demand. It's the honest truth. If she cannot or is not willing to accept the way this family engages with each other and others then she's not a good match for this family and we have to make a break.
I didn't tell her this to hurt her feelings or even compel her to comply to rules or expectations of which she does not wish to comply. I told her this because if her personality is such that will not allow her to abide by the simple rules of this house then it's not a good fit. If we're not happy she can't be happy either.
She told us she wants to say. She apologized to her sister. She still had a good degree of attitude in her voice and words but I'm not expecting overnight miracles. Today she's doing a lot better. She's not 100% happy (I banned Facebook in the home) but she's not given me any reason to correct her tone, attitude, or behavior either. She hasn't complained today. I also talked with her counselor and demanded weekly sessions to get to the root of the anger. I told the counselor what the expectations in this home are and I want to get to the point where we start to notice changes or we all need to come to an agreement that this isn't working.
She's such a bright, beautiful girl. I told her this. She's capable of so many things. Deep down behind all the hurt, the anger, and the pain is a girl who just wants to feel safe, loved, and happy. If I didn't see, honestly believe in my soul, that this girl didn't want for herself what we want for her then I wouldn't put any of us through these attempts at behavior modification. But as idealistic as I am, I've had to come to the realization that even if she wants it worse than we want it for her, we still may not be the best people for her. The technical term then would be to say we "failed."
My husband and I set out on the journey to love children who needed a stable, happy, loving family where they could feel safe, secure, and happy. We said from the beginning that we would never "fail" them. But by not being honest about the problems we're facing and owning up to the most viable of options we have at our disposal then we will have failed.
Failure is an option. If you're a foster parent long enough, a placement is going to fail. It's okay for a placement to fail. What is not okay is to fail the child. Failure is NOT an option when it comes to the happiness, safety, and well being of the child. That's why, however harsh you feel I was (and I understand your judgment of me), I had to be honest with her. This placement may turn around and be the best thing for all of us, but it also may fail. I have accepted that if the placement does fail it's not because we failed her. I have come to a peace that if we come to the decision this placement is not in the best interest of all parties then I will accept the failure of the placement. I will not allow my desire to help result in failing the child. She's deserving of more than that.
Within the deepest part of my soul, on the days when I have reached what feels like the breaking point of my sanity, I keep holding tight to the Word God spoke into my heart several years ago: For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11). God's plans may not be for this placement to work but if the time comes to admit defeat, I trust I will feel that peace within and know I'm doing the right thing. My prayer is that it doesn't come to that. But my faith affords me the knowledge that whatever is in store for our future as a family, we do not walk alone. We have been given a divine plan, a purpose, hope, and a future.
Failure is an option. Frankly, when it comes to foster parenting I have learned that all options must be on the table. That includes failure. Now, many counselors, social workers, foster parents, and other professionals may look at that statement as a foster mother who has resigned herself to fail. To give up. To surrender. Throw in the towel. That's not what I mean.
We've been going through some battles in this house. I've been going through these battles wearing two different hats, utilizing two different brands of logic, and what I have managed to accomplish is wearing myself out to the point where I don't want to try anymore but yet deep down I continue to push on. I picture the social workers in our lives snapping a whip and yelling at me to, "Mush! Mush!"
I have two daughters. Both have endured different types of situations. I won't be getting into those situations because they are not pertinent to the point I'm trying to make here. What is pertinent is one is very angry and the other is not. Or at least not so much.
Anger is a deadly disease. It will come into your home and infect all inhabitants and there's no medication, no quick cure to make it go away. There's no period of time when you can reasonably expect the anger to fade. I know this because, even though professionally I function as a therapist (when I'm not being a SAHM) but because I have had my own afflictions with anger.
Along with anger comes bullying. My youngest is full of anger. She wields that anger like a light saber (I'm not a Star Wars fan so I hope I used that term right) and it completely disrupts the moods, attitudes, and lives of everyone in the home. I've used various types of techniques to correct the negative behavior, the attitude, and the bullying. I've sunk as low as some good old fashioned passive aggressiveness. But not anymore.
Last night my husband, my daughters, and I had a family meeting. In that meeting I laid it all out as honest and free of bull puckey as possible: do you want to live her or not? I then went on to say that living here comes with certain expectations that I am no longer willing to budge on. In order to remain living here she will need to: treat all family members in the home with respect (watching tone of voice, the words she chooses, the non-verbal communication she expresses), she will no longer be able to talk to my 13 year old like she's been talking to her. She is to treat everyone in my family (extended, friends, professional or strangers that come into our home) and people she meets on the street with respect whether she feels she owes it to them or not. If she cannot abide by the simple rule of: do unto others as you would have them do unto you then this is not the right place for her and she will more than likely be moved to a third home.
I never wanted to pull this card. I never wanted to dangle that carrot. But I had to come to the realization that it's not a bait and switch tactic. It's not a dangled carrot to entice a desired behavior. It's simply the way it is going to be around here. It's simply what we, as parents, are willing to accept. It's a way of life that we demand. It's the honest truth. If she cannot or is not willing to accept the way this family engages with each other and others then she's not a good match for this family and we have to make a break.
I didn't tell her this to hurt her feelings or even compel her to comply to rules or expectations of which she does not wish to comply. I told her this because if her personality is such that will not allow her to abide by the simple rules of this house then it's not a good fit. If we're not happy she can't be happy either.
She told us she wants to say. She apologized to her sister. She still had a good degree of attitude in her voice and words but I'm not expecting overnight miracles. Today she's doing a lot better. She's not 100% happy (I banned Facebook in the home) but she's not given me any reason to correct her tone, attitude, or behavior either. She hasn't complained today. I also talked with her counselor and demanded weekly sessions to get to the root of the anger. I told the counselor what the expectations in this home are and I want to get to the point where we start to notice changes or we all need to come to an agreement that this isn't working.
She's such a bright, beautiful girl. I told her this. She's capable of so many things. Deep down behind all the hurt, the anger, and the pain is a girl who just wants to feel safe, loved, and happy. If I didn't see, honestly believe in my soul, that this girl didn't want for herself what we want for her then I wouldn't put any of us through these attempts at behavior modification. But as idealistic as I am, I've had to come to the realization that even if she wants it worse than we want it for her, we still may not be the best people for her. The technical term then would be to say we "failed."
My husband and I set out on the journey to love children who needed a stable, happy, loving family where they could feel safe, secure, and happy. We said from the beginning that we would never "fail" them. But by not being honest about the problems we're facing and owning up to the most viable of options we have at our disposal then we will have failed.
Failure is an option. If you're a foster parent long enough, a placement is going to fail. It's okay for a placement to fail. What is not okay is to fail the child. Failure is NOT an option when it comes to the happiness, safety, and well being of the child. That's why, however harsh you feel I was (and I understand your judgment of me), I had to be honest with her. This placement may turn around and be the best thing for all of us, but it also may fail. I have accepted that if the placement does fail it's not because we failed her. I have come to a peace that if we come to the decision this placement is not in the best interest of all parties then I will accept the failure of the placement. I will not allow my desire to help result in failing the child. She's deserving of more than that.
Within the deepest part of my soul, on the days when I have reached what feels like the breaking point of my sanity, I keep holding tight to the Word God spoke into my heart several years ago: For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11). God's plans may not be for this placement to work but if the time comes to admit defeat, I trust I will feel that peace within and know I'm doing the right thing. My prayer is that it doesn't come to that. But my faith affords me the knowledge that whatever is in store for our future as a family, we do not walk alone. We have been given a divine plan, a purpose, hope, and a future.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Post Placement Depression
Whenever a new mom has her baby there's often a period of time when she experiences depression--post partum depression. I know it is often due to the sudden reduction/change in hormones but I'm sure it's also caused by reality not being as idealistic and glamorous as the dreams and the assumptions the expectant mother had prior to the birth. In other words, there's a let down.
I've been a mom to two girls ages 12 and 13 for over a month now. I love them dearly but things have been difficult on me. Just the sheer adjustment of going from a family of just my husband and I to a family of four has been difficult. But then there's the fact that what I expected to happen, my primary motivation over the past year of what I wanted to happen didn't. We started this process for a son. One little boy in particular. But we have two beautiful daughters.
It's been difficult to adjust to hormones, moodiness, attitudes, and drama. And given the fact we're foster parents we cannot leave them home alone and only individuals who have had sufficient background checks can assist us with child care, therefore, it's pretty much been me and the girls 24/7 for six weeks.
I'm the kind of person that has to have some personal time and space when I'm alone and that's been difficult to come by. Jeff and I haven't had a date in a long time. So I have been having a hard time adjusting.
I feel like I have post placement depression. I expected to roll on into parenthood all easy like and that things would just gel and be amazing and I'd feel like a mom and I'd be so excited and wake up every morning like Mary Poppins. When that didn't happen (because it was an unrealistic expectation) I began to question everything I've thought, wanted, prayed for, and worked for over the past couple of years.
I'm not saying I regret becoming a foster parent. I'm also not saying there haven't been times when I've thought I regretted it. But I came to realize that much like an expectant mother, I built up the birth of my motherhood into some fantasy wonderland full of gum drops and skittles. I was prepared to be a football mom to a beautiful African American young man born on Christmas day.
I lost focus of my mission: to be a mom. Just like much of how I've lived my life, I set my mind on something 100% out of my control and just assumed that's what would happen. I knew that God had called Jeff and I to be foster parents. BUT God called us for HIS reason not OURS. He had two girls that He knew needed us as much as we needed them. I needed to change my focus. I needed MY vision to be clouded so that HIS vision could become clear.
I am slowly learning how to let go, let God. It's hard for the controlling person that is typing this blog. But I'm trying.
I love my girls. I am glad Jeff and I pursued foster care. I'm glad that even on the hardest days when I was ready to throw in the towel I didn't. Parenting isn't easy regardless of how you become a parent. But in the end, when you step back and look at what you've accomplished, take stock in the beauty that has come into your life, it makes dealing with the unpleasantness (attitudes/drama/sassiness) easier.
I thank God for giving us this desire and for sending us these girls. I pray He continues to be my strength and my guide through the difficult times.
I've been a mom to two girls ages 12 and 13 for over a month now. I love them dearly but things have been difficult on me. Just the sheer adjustment of going from a family of just my husband and I to a family of four has been difficult. But then there's the fact that what I expected to happen, my primary motivation over the past year of what I wanted to happen didn't. We started this process for a son. One little boy in particular. But we have two beautiful daughters.
It's been difficult to adjust to hormones, moodiness, attitudes, and drama. And given the fact we're foster parents we cannot leave them home alone and only individuals who have had sufficient background checks can assist us with child care, therefore, it's pretty much been me and the girls 24/7 for six weeks.
I'm the kind of person that has to have some personal time and space when I'm alone and that's been difficult to come by. Jeff and I haven't had a date in a long time. So I have been having a hard time adjusting.
I feel like I have post placement depression. I expected to roll on into parenthood all easy like and that things would just gel and be amazing and I'd feel like a mom and I'd be so excited and wake up every morning like Mary Poppins. When that didn't happen (because it was an unrealistic expectation) I began to question everything I've thought, wanted, prayed for, and worked for over the past couple of years.
I'm not saying I regret becoming a foster parent. I'm also not saying there haven't been times when I've thought I regretted it. But I came to realize that much like an expectant mother, I built up the birth of my motherhood into some fantasy wonderland full of gum drops and skittles. I was prepared to be a football mom to a beautiful African American young man born on Christmas day.
I lost focus of my mission: to be a mom. Just like much of how I've lived my life, I set my mind on something 100% out of my control and just assumed that's what would happen. I knew that God had called Jeff and I to be foster parents. BUT God called us for HIS reason not OURS. He had two girls that He knew needed us as much as we needed them. I needed to change my focus. I needed MY vision to be clouded so that HIS vision could become clear.
I am slowly learning how to let go, let God. It's hard for the controlling person that is typing this blog. But I'm trying.
I love my girls. I am glad Jeff and I pursued foster care. I'm glad that even on the hardest days when I was ready to throw in the towel I didn't. Parenting isn't easy regardless of how you become a parent. But in the end, when you step back and look at what you've accomplished, take stock in the beauty that has come into your life, it makes dealing with the unpleasantness (attitudes/drama/sassiness) easier.
I thank God for giving us this desire and for sending us these girls. I pray He continues to be my strength and my guide through the difficult times.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tomahawk Party of Four
Why, hello. I'm still here. I've been quite busy adjusting to life as a mother of two daughters. Life is going okay here. We're doing very well, quite honestly. I love being a mother to these two girls. They are so easy to love and care about!
Jeff is adjusting well to being a father of two daughters. Neither one of them can date until they are 35. :)
We are getting all settled in and adjusted and used to each other. These girls will be with us for long term. I don't know how long that will be because each is in a different stage of adjudication, but we gladly welcome them for however long they are here whether it's two/three months or forever.
Being a mom is hard. You constantly wonder if you're doing it right. We took nine weeks worth of classes on how to nagivate the foster care system, what to expect (behaviors/court system/etc) but not really how to parent. I guess we're no different from a couple who has a doctor hand them a newborn. We'll figure it out as we go, but we do have a lot more support sources so that's a good thing.
I go to bed each night exhausted. I wake up each morning exhausted. And I don't have near the freedom or the money I had a month ago but I didn't have near the meaning in my life that I have now either. That's way more important than sleeping late when you feel like it or having millions (or even hundreds I'm not greedy) in the bank.
We're going to start school shopping in the next couple of weeks. One daughter is all kinds of excited while my other daughter is more shy but I know will tear up the mall when we go!! :)
When I take a minute and sit down and think about the journey Jeff and I had to take to get to where we are today I get tears in my eyes. We had such a plan for our lives but what we didn't know was how much different God's plan was. We bucked his plan and bucked it hard. In the midst of the struggle to have a family we lost sight of what was important.
I have learned what no one could have told me years ago: I don't need a baby to be happy. I didn't need to be pregnant and give birth to be a mom. I didn't need to spend $30K we didn't have to be parents. This hasn't been the easiest road but it's been the road that has been the best for us.
Jeff and I are happy. We are adjusting to life with teens. Our girls seem happy. Now, if you don't mind, I hear a hot shower calling my name.......
Jeff is adjusting well to being a father of two daughters. Neither one of them can date until they are 35. :)
We are getting all settled in and adjusted and used to each other. These girls will be with us for long term. I don't know how long that will be because each is in a different stage of adjudication, but we gladly welcome them for however long they are here whether it's two/three months or forever.
Being a mom is hard. You constantly wonder if you're doing it right. We took nine weeks worth of classes on how to nagivate the foster care system, what to expect (behaviors/court system/etc) but not really how to parent. I guess we're no different from a couple who has a doctor hand them a newborn. We'll figure it out as we go, but we do have a lot more support sources so that's a good thing.
I go to bed each night exhausted. I wake up each morning exhausted. And I don't have near the freedom or the money I had a month ago but I didn't have near the meaning in my life that I have now either. That's way more important than sleeping late when you feel like it or having millions (or even hundreds I'm not greedy) in the bank.
We're going to start school shopping in the next couple of weeks. One daughter is all kinds of excited while my other daughter is more shy but I know will tear up the mall when we go!! :)
When I take a minute and sit down and think about the journey Jeff and I had to take to get to where we are today I get tears in my eyes. We had such a plan for our lives but what we didn't know was how much different God's plan was. We bucked his plan and bucked it hard. In the midst of the struggle to have a family we lost sight of what was important.
I have learned what no one could have told me years ago: I don't need a baby to be happy. I didn't need to be pregnant and give birth to be a mom. I didn't need to spend $30K we didn't have to be parents. This hasn't been the easiest road but it's been the road that has been the best for us.
Jeff and I are happy. We are adjusting to life with teens. Our girls seem happy. Now, if you don't mind, I hear a hot shower calling my name.......
Thursday, May 31, 2012
It's been awhile...
I haven't really posted since the kid left. We're getting another kid tomorrow. It's been a quiet week and a half. As of 4:00pm tomorrow we will be parents again to a tween girl. Yes. girl. I'm scared.
My house is in shambles because I've had some sort of kidney infection/stone that's kept me in pain and not able to do much but by the time I leave to pick her up tomorrow, this house will be in order. I hope.
Since we had both rooms set up for boys, Jeff and I had to switch out the room tonight. So, here it is. The walls are a very light cream that was painted over a lime green and even though we used like 3 coats of the paint and primer paint from Home Depot, it still tends to look green, especially when you put in green items.
I hope she likes it. I'm very nervous about having a girl. I wasn't sure if I wanted a girl or not. I welcome her.
My house is in shambles because I've had some sort of kidney infection/stone that's kept me in pain and not able to do much but by the time I leave to pick her up tomorrow, this house will be in order. I hope.
Since we had both rooms set up for boys, Jeff and I had to switch out the room tonight. So, here it is. The walls are a very light cream that was painted over a lime green and even though we used like 3 coats of the paint and primer paint from Home Depot, it still tends to look green, especially when you put in green items.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Saying Good-Bye and Hello
Tuesday we said goodbye to our first foster child. I did remarkably well. The plans were for the child to have a psychological evaluation in the morning then go meet mom and the CPS worker at court at 1 and then go home with mom. I was fine. I didn't cry. Lord knows I cried the night before but I swear our SW came in, gathered the child and the child's things with stealth like precision and was in and out in two minutes. Like ripping off a band aid. I was fine. Until I found out thing didn't go as well as we had all hoped but I'm sure things worked out for the best. That's basically all I can put out into the Blogopshere.
I've kept myself pretty busy. Met the bestie for lunch Tuesday and we went to see What to Expect. Hilarious. Good movie. That evening to keep my husband occupied and to keep from sitting in a quiet and empty house we went to see What to Expect (my husband loves a good chick flick. I got lucky!) and had dinner.
Yesterday the bestie and I met up with a former coworker for a nice long lunch and then husband and I had dinner with friends. I decided yesterday that I'm sick of feeling so sick and tired and being so fat. I decided that today I was going to do something different. Today I have eliminated all sugar (unless it comes from a real piece of fruit), white starches/carbs, soft drinks, juices, high fatty foods, greasy foods, high calorie foods. I will be doing peach protein shakes made with fat free lactose free milk for breakfast and lunch, snacks will be small natural applesauce cups, and dinner will be a lean/grilled protein and salad. Don't forget plenty of water. I'm tired of feeling I'm walking through wet concrete every day.
So this morning, after sleeping in a little later than I really wanted. I laid in bed thinking how much our bedroom could really use a good old fashioned scrubbing, vacuuming, folded clothes need put away, etc. But I decided to exercise. I told myself I was going to do 1 mile. Just one little mile.
I put on a tight compression tank top and some walking shorts, a du-rag (sp?) and headed to the track at the local college. I drank my shake on the way to the track. I told myself I was going to do it even if it meant stopping, sitting down, taking breaks, and even if it took an entire hour I was going to get this mile in.
Here I am driving to the track:
Yeah. I'm sexy and I know it. NOT! But still, I didn't give an EFF. I am what I am and I am fat. I'm on my way to do something about it. Who cares who sees this and what they think of me. That's their problem.
So, I step foot on the track. It's a gravel track. Now I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and my feet have been greatly affected, to the point where the bones have already started to deform, not to mention the extra 150 pounds I'm carrying on them every single day. I was able to do two laps equaling a half mile (only had to sit down for 5 minutes between trips) in roughly 25 minutes. The gravel killed my feet. Each step was so painful. So I decided it was okay to stop. "Work yourself up to a mile, Allison." "You did more than you normally do" blah blah blah.
I justified how I'll do a half mile for a week then next week work up to a mile and blah blah blah. Either way I looked at it, I was letting myself down. So, I drove over to the high school track and football field. The track there was paved so I decided I could do two trips around to finish my mile. It was a lot easier on my feet. Not nearly as painful as the previous half mile had been. So, in a little under one and a half hours, I spent 45 minutes walking a mile.
I may not get my room cleaned today. My feet are killing me. But I exercised. I started out wanting something simple: to walk a mile and even though I tried to quit, I didn't.
I know some of you are thinking, "come one it's a frigging mile. Who can't walk a mile?" Well, until three hours ago I would have told you I couldn't walk a mile. But I did. It took awhile. It hurt. I huffed and puffed and I'm now sun burnt (damn Irish complexion) but I did it.
So now I'm going to go get a hot shower, put on some comfy clothes, have my lunch, drink more water (I've not even had 16.9 ounces of water yet..can you say holy dehydration headache??). I may go back this evening with my husband and do another half mile. Each day I will make as many trips to the track as necessary to get a mile in until I'm able to to a mile at one time without stopping. I'll continue to work up to longer/father. But until then, I'm not going to beat myself up and I'm not going to short change myself. I saw that I was able to do a mile. Yes I had to take a good 20 minute break in between each half mile but I did it. One foot in front of the other with Jill Scott crooning on my ipod.
This week I may have said good bye to the kid but today I said hello to myself. I'm proud of myself. Now, I'm off to hit the showers.
I've kept myself pretty busy. Met the bestie for lunch Tuesday and we went to see What to Expect. Hilarious. Good movie. That evening to keep my husband occupied and to keep from sitting in a quiet and empty house we went to see What to Expect (my husband loves a good chick flick. I got lucky!) and had dinner.
Yesterday the bestie and I met up with a former coworker for a nice long lunch and then husband and I had dinner with friends. I decided yesterday that I'm sick of feeling so sick and tired and being so fat. I decided that today I was going to do something different. Today I have eliminated all sugar (unless it comes from a real piece of fruit), white starches/carbs, soft drinks, juices, high fatty foods, greasy foods, high calorie foods. I will be doing peach protein shakes made with fat free lactose free milk for breakfast and lunch, snacks will be small natural applesauce cups, and dinner will be a lean/grilled protein and salad. Don't forget plenty of water. I'm tired of feeling I'm walking through wet concrete every day.
So this morning, after sleeping in a little later than I really wanted. I laid in bed thinking how much our bedroom could really use a good old fashioned scrubbing, vacuuming, folded clothes need put away, etc. But I decided to exercise. I told myself I was going to do 1 mile. Just one little mile.
I put on a tight compression tank top and some walking shorts, a du-rag (sp?) and headed to the track at the local college. I drank my shake on the way to the track. I told myself I was going to do it even if it meant stopping, sitting down, taking breaks, and even if it took an entire hour I was going to get this mile in.
Here I am driving to the track:
So, I step foot on the track. It's a gravel track. Now I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and my feet have been greatly affected, to the point where the bones have already started to deform, not to mention the extra 150 pounds I'm carrying on them every single day. I was able to do two laps equaling a half mile (only had to sit down for 5 minutes between trips) in roughly 25 minutes. The gravel killed my feet. Each step was so painful. So I decided it was okay to stop. "Work yourself up to a mile, Allison." "You did more than you normally do" blah blah blah.
I justified how I'll do a half mile for a week then next week work up to a mile and blah blah blah. Either way I looked at it, I was letting myself down. So, I drove over to the high school track and football field. The track there was paved so I decided I could do two trips around to finish my mile. It was a lot easier on my feet. Not nearly as painful as the previous half mile had been. So, in a little under one and a half hours, I spent 45 minutes walking a mile.
I may not get my room cleaned today. My feet are killing me. But I exercised. I started out wanting something simple: to walk a mile and even though I tried to quit, I didn't.
I know some of you are thinking, "come one it's a frigging mile. Who can't walk a mile?" Well, until three hours ago I would have told you I couldn't walk a mile. But I did. It took awhile. It hurt. I huffed and puffed and I'm now sun burnt (damn Irish complexion) but I did it.
This week I may have said good bye to the kid but today I said hello to myself. I'm proud of myself. Now, I'm off to hit the showers.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Apologies
I was in a horrible mood yesterday. I went with my little family out to eat and I was feeling very upset about my current physical condition. The space between seating areas was not big enough to make me feel comfortable. I was angry at myself for allowing myself to get to this position and even angrier still for not committing myself to do anything about it. Sure I've managed to lose 11 pounds in the last month but when you are MY size, 11 pounds is a drop in the bucket.
I was feeling low and miserable and I did something that I am very ashamed of and have, rightfully so, taken must criticism over on Twitter and even some Anonymous comments on here that I refuse to publish. I would publish comments of people who are man/woman enough to use their real names as I am being woman enough to come here to apologize and admit to my lapse of judgment.
Misery loves company and we've all been guilty of looking at someone who is "worse off" than ourselves and thinking, "I might be (fill in the blank) but at least I'm not that." To say you haven't is not being truthful. Yesterday, I took a picture and posted to twitter of someone who was a little worse off than me in the weight department with the comment, "may I never get that big." It was wrong. I offer no excuses. I would die if I knew someone had done the same to me without my knowledge.
What I saw was it could get worse if I don't get serious. And what you people who have come here or on Twitter to voice your hatred/anger/disgust/name calling don't realize is I'm a very morbidly obese person myself. I don't post pictures nor do I really discuss the seriousness of my weight issues because of embarrassment. But to, in a pitiful attempt at rectifying a very horrible thing I did, I'm owning up to myself right here. Right now.
This is me (12/31/11)
It's one of the few pictures I have of myself saved on this computer to post. I don't allow many pictures to be taken of me and my over 300 pound self. Yes. I said it: I'm just a tad over the 300 pound mark and it makes me sick.
I took down the tweet yesterday within minutes of posting it because I realized how horrible what I had done was. However, it was not before it was retweeted and the "you're an asshole" tweets started rolling in. I've been called a "bitch", "asshole", and the C word. I completely understand the vitriol. What I did was disgusting and wrong. It was the act of a severely insecure woman who was looking for a scapegoat.
So, you can go ahead and tweet me your hateful thoughts and leave comments here. I'm not saying I don't deserve them. But what I'm saying is, I'm not a "horrible" person. If I was I wouldn't have removed it. I wouldn't be here accepting responsibility. I wouldn't be addressing the issue at all.
I was wrong.
The End.
I was feeling low and miserable and I did something that I am very ashamed of and have, rightfully so, taken must criticism over on Twitter and even some Anonymous comments on here that I refuse to publish. I would publish comments of people who are man/woman enough to use their real names as I am being woman enough to come here to apologize and admit to my lapse of judgment.
Misery loves company and we've all been guilty of looking at someone who is "worse off" than ourselves and thinking, "I might be (fill in the blank) but at least I'm not that." To say you haven't is not being truthful. Yesterday, I took a picture and posted to twitter of someone who was a little worse off than me in the weight department with the comment, "may I never get that big." It was wrong. I offer no excuses. I would die if I knew someone had done the same to me without my knowledge.
What I saw was it could get worse if I don't get serious. And what you people who have come here or on Twitter to voice your hatred/anger/disgust/name calling don't realize is I'm a very morbidly obese person myself. I don't post pictures nor do I really discuss the seriousness of my weight issues because of embarrassment. But to, in a pitiful attempt at rectifying a very horrible thing I did, I'm owning up to myself right here. Right now.
This is me (12/31/11)
I took down the tweet yesterday within minutes of posting it because I realized how horrible what I had done was. However, it was not before it was retweeted and the "you're an asshole" tweets started rolling in. I've been called a "bitch", "asshole", and the C word. I completely understand the vitriol. What I did was disgusting and wrong. It was the act of a severely insecure woman who was looking for a scapegoat.
So, you can go ahead and tweet me your hateful thoughts and leave comments here. I'm not saying I don't deserve them. But what I'm saying is, I'm not a "horrible" person. If I was I wouldn't have removed it. I wouldn't be here accepting responsibility. I wouldn't be addressing the issue at all.
I was wrong.
The End.
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