The Obama’s Begin The Changes
Did y’all see the pic of Sasha Obama, age 7, peering out the window of the SUV in the Secret Service convoy? Apparently she was on her way to be dropped off at her new school to begin her second half of 2nd grade. She was last to be taken to school after her big sister Malia was left at her new 5th grade class. Sure their dad has a HUGE task ahead in trying to save this nation of ours from financial ruin, but those girls had a harder task yesterday, surviving the first day in a new school. I seriously had tears for these two little girls. Those big brown eyes full of that special mixture of excitement and fear just pulled at my heart strings. And I know it was probably all fine until her sister got dropped off and then she was left to be brave alone. This is how it would’ve been for Hively if he was left without Red to guide in through the doors of a new experience. Oldest children are always so much stronger than us younger ones. Is it because we become their responsibility the moment we are born into their world? Maybe it is because they have known an existence without us but we have never known one without them. Either way, the Oldest child has this role to uphold, to be stronger and braver than the younger in typical families and it is nice to see that the Obama’s are just that. Sure, these children have began the road to becoming the “First Kids” but they are still just kids all the same and I am hooing this transition is easy for them.
Obama Wins…And Now, We Move On!
I was watching Charlie Gibson when the clock stroke 11pm and the polls were closed in California. Charlie announced that they were ready to call the election winner as…Barack Obama. I wept at this announcement. I then went and woke my children so they could witness this event, this moment that will be recorded in history books for years and years to come. I wanted them to be able to tell their children someday that they had watched this man, this hopeful and hope invoking leader, accept his win. To be able to tell the story of how they sat in their living room with their mom as she wept not from sadness or fear but because she was finally encouraged that the future of America would be fixed for them and their children and their children after them.
I am so proud of my country. I woke up bursting with joy that my fellow American citizens went out in drove to elect this man. To give this man, Barack Obama, with the funny name, and the big ears, and the black skin, to give him a chance. I am proud that my generation is involved enough in the happenings of this country that they stood in lines that wrapped around buildings, to give this man an opportunity to lead us into a future that may be unsure and uncertain, but will absolutely be altered because of this decision.
If you went out and cast a vote, then I am proud of you! Even if you voted for another candidate, I am proud that you took part in the shaping of this country and it’s government. We don’t have to agree on any topic, other than that WE are in this together. We love America and we are Americans and that alone makes us allies. Whether we see anything else the same, that alone makes us countrymen. And if you are a fellow American who voted yesterday then thanks and God Bless You!
On this note I will leave you with my favorite part of his victory speech last night: I know you didn’t do this just to win an election and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime – two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor’s bills, or save enough for college.
Innocence Lost! – Explaining Abortion to a 10 year old.
I am not a Dooce fanatic as MANY are! But I do enjoy her wit and check in on her weekly
(as opposed to daily where I go here: http://abrightfuture.wordpress.com/, here: http://mssinglemama.com/, and here: http://afatbridesmaid.blogspot.com/, and even here: http://mandysthirtysomethingblog.blogspot.com/)
to see if I can get a good chuckle. So it had to be divine intervention that I happened over to Dooce yesterday and caught this post…
http://www.dooce.com/2008/10/17/why-any-woman-who-intends-vote-mccain-should-reconsider
I say divine intervention because on Sunday evening I had an eye opening experience about just how wide spread & downright ugly this presidential campaign has gotten.
As we drove down the main road leading to our sub, and approached the corner of the side street we turn on to get into our street, there he stood. An older man in his late 60’s who I have seen there before. In any other situation I may think him a kind gentleman (because I have a soft spot for old men), grandpa type who I could just hug on and love. But in this situation, he stands at this fairly busy intersection holding a few signs stating, ABORTION IS MURDER, MCCAIN PALIN, PRO CHOICE IS PRO MURDER OF BABIES. You get the point! (I was a tad irate. Not because I support Obama but because this man was making a scene on publically owned property and if he wants to do so on his property that he owns that is alright. I myself have an Obama sign in my yard and I do not begrudge anyone that right, or their right to their opinion on whom the best candidate is. But not on public property while obstructing traffic at a heavily congested intersection!) So, as I pass his car (covered in signs & stickers also) I jotted down his license plate number. My intention to call the local police and ask them to speak to him, because I do not think his obstructing traffic with his political agenda is acceptable.
This is about where it began…
RED: That is not even true!
ME: What do you mean?
RED: THAT! What he says! It isn’t true.
ME: What isn’t true?
RED: I know what that is.
ME: [speechless]
RED: I know, and I know that is not the truth!
ME: Okay honey, tell me what you know.
RED: That Luke kid (a boy she was forced to do an assignment with – in which they had to pick a political candidate and do a fact finding paper on them. He threw a tantrum and insisted on McCain, she was upset because she wanted Obama.) said Obama says it is okay to murder babies and McCain says it is wrong.
ME: [still dumbstruck] What?
RED: And Emily said NO, Obama says it is between the woman and her doctor.
ME: What is between the woman and her doctor?
RED: When the baby is born, the woman and her doctor should get to decide if they kill it.
ME: OM MY GOD! NO! NO HONEY, NO! That is NOT what that is.
RED: [thoughtfully silenced] oh, okay.
ME: Neither John McCain or Barack Obama say it is okay to kill a newborn baby! That would never be allowed in this country. NEVER!
ME: This is why 10 year olds don’t need to be even thinking about stuff like this. You are all too young to understand this and you don’t need to worry yourselves with these issues. These are adult issues you don’t need to worry about. You need to not be talking about this anymore with the other children. Okay.
I kind of left it at that until last night when I had processed what had actually taken place and I felt I needed to explain further, from a more educated and prepared point of view.
ME: Honey you know abortion has nothing to do with killing newborn babies right.
RED: I did think that but now I know it isn’t that.
ME: You know last year when we discussed the way a baby is formed? The egg inside the mom, and the sperm that comes from the dad?
RED: [as she plugs her ears] EWWW, Yeah, Quit, Don’t Talk About IT!
ME: Well, that is when an abortion is done, when the two of them have just merged into each other.
RED: Okay.
ME: There are reasons for this. We believe God intends for every baby to grow inside the mommy and become a child. But there are reasons why this may be hard for some people. Some people who maybe aren’t ready to have a baby or whose baby may be sick if it is born. And that is what Obama thinks the woman should have a right to decide. But NEVER, EVER, EVER do they kill a newborn baby, that is NOT EVER allowed.
RED: Okay.
ME: Okay, and if this is brought up by other kids again just walk away and don’t talk about it. Also if you have questions about these things, please just ask me and we will clear it up for you. Okay.
RED: Okay.
That was the best I could do. My baby was walking around think woman and doctors just lightly decide to murder, innocent, beautiful, perfect little newborn babies! I was sad that I had to go this far in a discussion that I never wanted to have until she was closer to adulthood. With this one single conversation, my child was pushed a far way over that line where childhood ends. They are 10. They are just 10 years old! At 10, I was still playing with Barbie and making cakes in my Easy Bake Oven! Sure, it was 1984, Ronald Reagan along with Bush Sr. were running against Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro. It was exciting because it was the first woman in the race ever. But, the media wasn’t so out of control and even though I was being raised by a Michigan Union Worker with a strong work ethic accompanied by an even stronger passion for the Democratic ticket, I was sheltered from all the ins and outs of the campaign. As most children I heard conversations between the adults in my life about why Mondale was better for the middle class and how Reagan was only going to help the rich. These were mere snippets though. There was no CNN that had a minute by minute debate blaring in the background for months and months on end, discussing every point from ever single Tom Dick & Harry that wanted to say how they see it. When we had classroom talks about the candidates and when we were assigned fact finding reports, there was no internet on which to do research. The facts we were given to sort through were all hand picked and looked at by the adults; before we ever saw them. And in my life, the teacher and my parents pretty much agreed on what I could be exposed to and what I couldn’t. Unlike today when the majority of parents are very open with their children and are happy to treat them as mini adults. It was a very different world back then and I am not prepared to raise a child in this new world.
All this comes on the heals of another issue. A different little boy told Red last week that she needs to be on a calendar supporting Lesbian Month with a picture of her and another little girl making out. Also, this left me disgusted and speechless! What are these parents discussing in the presence of them? Does no one at all support me in the pursuit to keep my children innocent as long as possible?
Right now, I am hating 5th grade! I do know enough to know this is only the beginning. And this leaves me just plain sad!
Parents are the bones on which children sharpen their teeth. -Peter Ustinov
Tooth decay was a perennial national problem that meant a mouthful of silver for patients and for dentists a pocketful of gold. ~Claudia Wallis
I am poor. My children are toothless. As a result, of this toothlessness, I have no $green$!
Seriously! This is an issue people.
At Hively’s last dental cleaning, I asked the dentist to look at his bottom front teeth. There was a fully grown-in permanent tooth behind his baby tooth. It was all crooked and bad looking. The dentist said it was fine and the baby one would come out. I questioned this because I always thought the permanent pushed the baby one out and if that hadn’t happened, how would the baby tooth come out all on its own? (It wasn’t even loose.) Red had a Dr. Ortho Donto (her term for him) appointment the next week and since Hively was with us I chose to just ask his quick opinion. He said, that baby tooth absolutely needs to come out so the permanent tooth can move into its appropriate space. He kindly wrote me an instructional note to give the dentist regarding his professional opinion. We made the return appointment, we saw him, he wasn’t happy that I had questioned him, I am sure this was a blow to his ego but I had to do what was best for my child right? Hively had the tooth pulled and it was a bad experience. Poor kid he was scared to death and it hurt. When the tooth was out, it was about 1.5 centimeters long. The roots on that thing were so long, it was obvious to me that it wouldn’t have ever come out on its own. A few weeks later, the $50 bill came in the mail. Usually his dental coverage is great and covers all things. But apparently not tooth pulling, when the mom insists on it. Most likely, because the dentist is offended by such a mom as this.
Since this incident, Hively has had his two front teeth hanging on for months. He refused to eat favorite foods, to smile, to brush them; he basically refused to do anything that would result in them falling out. No matter how many times we discussed the tooth fairy and money and the benefits of pulling them. Nope he wasn’t touching them and he wasn’t even opening his mouth so we could touch them either.
On Tuesday as I sat at work, my cell rang. It was the school office. Just calling to let me know that Grant had been hit in the mouth with a soccer ball and was now front toothless. I think the caller expected me to be concerned. I laughed. I was not concerned, I was relieved! I don’t have $100 bucks lying around to pay the Egotistical Dentist to pull them out. The only unfortunate part of the story was that he lost the teeth, in tall grass on the playground. He and his friends tried to locate them, but they were gone. He was very concerned that the tooth fairy wouldn’t come because the evidence was lost. (I fell asleep!) He forced me awake and had a very angry look! She hadn’t come! (Shit! I am a crappy mother! Tired and crappy! Not a “magical rockstar” moment for me!)
So, I smoothly said oh wait it is over here and he bought it. Or he was so happy to get $10 he pretended to be conned. So he is 10 dollars richer, I am poorer still but at least it was cheaper than the dentist pulling them.
Last night I rushed them off to bed, because I wanted to watch Survivor. After the, I love you’s & sleep goods, were over. I sat down to watch a Gabon elephant encroach upon the Fang camp. Then, Red pops up and into the bathroom. Next thing I know…”HA, HA” she cries! “I did it! I pulled it out!”
WHAT?
Another $5 to a kid and no lunch money for mom!
Don’t these little monkeys and their monkey teeth know we are in a recession?
FALL!
On cool, fall evenings in the mid-west, people head outside. The nights are getting colder, the leaves are changing color and the humans sit around warming to the glow of hot embers.
If you are fortunate enough to know a friend who is located somewhat rurally that has a fire pit, you have spent time by a bonfire.
For me, this past weekend was one of these experiences. The Greek Goddess does live in such a location; she has an awesome yard, backing up to a wood and big enough for a fire pit.
Every year about this time the invitation is sent out.
Bring a chair and a dish to pass along with your hats, scarves, and gloves because we are welcoming in the cooler weather. She always has weenies to roast and tons of hot coco and her husband God bless him, can build a fire that would make any eagle scout jealous.
She is so good to me that she asked when my kiddos would be around for the weekend. She gave me a couple of dates and I assured her that they were around for both. I was wrong! She planned the roasting & toasting for this past weekend but as you know, the kids were off at their fathers. I had gotten so mixed up in my dates and weekends while Hively was sick and then the ex had done a trade and I was just all bass ackwards. I apologized profusely because how horrible am I? She planned her gathering around my children and I giver her bad info. Thank God this person loves me because she didn’t hold this against me and even went so far as to still allow me to attend as a solo.
I told her it had to be on the down low though because my kids would kill me if they knew what I’d done.
I went and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I played with her 2 year old whom happens to be my favorite Diva on earth, I held her baby who happens to grow more lovely and fair every time I visit with them. There were many adults and a few kids and it was a great time for all.
I climbed into my car to head home and tossed my lawn chair into the front seat, wanting to avoid the hassle of opening the back hatch of my van.
Sunday I was tired and didn’t venture out at all, choosing to use the day to re-coup from the previous two late nights and for the week ahead.
Monday morning the kids beat me to the car on our way out to begin the week. They caught me! They saw the lawn chair and the jacket, hat, scarf & gloves. They immediately deduced “bon-fire”!!! “You went to a bon-fire with out us?!? How could you?” They cried. I tried to say no, never, I don’t have any fun while you are gone, I’d never do that without you. But it was too late!
Parenting smart kids is too hard, they catch you on everything!
Tried to kill my son – Part 3
CONCLUSION:
I need to wrap this up as the first visit since this ordeal commences tonight at 6pm! UGH! You all need to pray for my babies as they are gone over the next 48 hours. And for me, the mama sitting at home and trying to function through my fear for them.
AHH – Justice System who has the best interest of my minor children in mind – how I love thee!
As Red and Hively talked the tale unraveled, and I was left with nausea.
On Friday night, Hively had been unable to sleep but just lay on the couch (because neither if them have a room there and he has no bed there) and flipped through television channels for hours (WHAT? What channels honey? Have y’all seen what can be found on a cable channel in the wee hours?) before daddy came to check on him. My children have always told me that they will never go get their dad if they wake in the night. They fear being in trouble from their step-mother because going into get their father may wake the brother who does have a bedroom located adjacent to theirs.
On Saturday they went to Chuck E. Cheese (this is why you should avoid this place with your off spring! Especially on the weekends when “part-time” parents go there because they are the “fun” parent). Hively says he made a few trips to the restroom while there because he thought he was going to throw-up. He also says that while in the over-head climber he couldn’t move around because he couldn’t breathe. Back at the homestead, there was an incident where Hively did throw-up. He was yelled at and had paper towels thrown at him and was made to clean up his own vomit. He was followed around with Lysol and everything he touched was sprayed down, as well as requiring him to obsessively wash his hands and stay away from the little brother there. Then on Saturday evening around 9pm Red gave Hively her bed to sleep in for the night. He was coughing and coughing. (I have been the primary care giver for 8 years of his life. For 6 of those he has had diagnosed Asthma. I am confident if I had heard that cough I would have known it as his “asthma cough”. This cough is when I step in and intervene with a puffer, with a breathing treatment, with a doctor visit.) Red proceeds to tell me that while this coughing was going on, the step mother said (something along the lines of), “Great, how are any of us going to get any sleep tonight with that going on?” Yes, that is right. My child was in respiratory distress and she was concerned about her beauty sleep.
On Sunday morning is when I was called and this story began. Except for the minor detail where Red was left at the house with the step mother and brother. They went to get the step mother some breakfast from Burger King (no, not my daughter, just herself.) When my son was admitted his father called there to tell her to bring Red up to the hospital so I could get her back home. She had her sister-in-law come over to keep the brother and when they were talking something was said about me to the effect of why would I be mad about having to come over there and the step mothers response was, “who knows it’s HER, SHE gets mad about EVERYTHING.” In front of my daughter who was already scared and nervous because her brother was so very sick, adding to her anxiety to be worried about me and was I going to be upset when I arrived there.
These people are a joke! After I came home and was SO PISSED! I would not talk to my ex. And he KNEW why. But it took him a few days to come out and ask if I had a problem. I simply said I did but I needed time to calm down before discussing it. He then proceeded to harass me into talking then and there and I proceeded to not answer my phone because it was in EVERYONES best interest for me to cool off before the discussion took place.
As I said at the beginning of this conclusion, the next visit is upon us so this week I had the discussion. Where, I tried to remain non-accusatory and non-confrontational. Where, he denied any wrong doing, going as far to say he would do nothing different. Where, he denied a lot of the things both children said happened. Where, he even went further and called back for a second discussion because he asked his wife about her comments and place in this story and she also denied saying any of these things. And finally where he accused me of feeding these tales to my kids and could I please not do such things because he is their father and he does love them and he would do anything for them.
Yes, this man truly believes he is in the right in this story. This man truly believes he and his wife are “GOOD” to my babies. This man truly believes that “claiming” to love someone and “claiming” you will do anything for them are enough, that actual actions are just a bi-product.
So the tale is done and over I hope. We have made a mutual agreement that if my children are sick they can just stay home and if they get sick while in his care he will contact me and bring them home. We will just have to wait and see how long that holds out…….…and pray!
– PRAY A LOT!
Tried to kill my son – PART 2
He was calling to tell me that the hospital staff is saying they will be keeping my son for at least 48 hours. Great! I didn’t pack for 48 hours. Why so long? But still he insists all is really fine and they are just over reacting.
I am fine to buy this and convince myself this is truth as I drive there because it is an hour trip and I can only get there as fast as my car will go.
I arrive, and my baby is in a room. He is being given constant oxygen, Albuterol treatments every 2 hours and steroids through an IV every 12 hours. Plus a constant Potassium drip because apparently that much Albuterol causes your system to empty of Potassium making a constant replenishing necessary.
In the room are my son, my daughter, my ex-husband and his wife. Shortly after I arrive my ex-in-laws arrive as well. Also close by is my son’s nurse. She conveniently happens to be my ex-husbands new wife’s close friend. (When we divorced, I was faced with the option to stay in my ex’s home town where we had built our life up to that point, or go back to my home town where my family was. I knew I was not prepared to live in a town where I had to see these exact people on a daily basis. All of these people are THE reason I packed up my 2 babies 6 years ago and got the heck out of dodge!)
I keep asking the nurse if 48 hours is necessary because I just want to leave this nightmare and get my son back to his own doctors and our home town. I am going on the belief all along that my ex is right and these people are over reacting. She (the dear friend of the woman who stole my husband and my children’s father resulting in destroying our family) finally looked at me and said, “He isn’t going to leave here before Tuesday. He is a very sick little boy.” That is kind of when I got the first clue that this was all a bit more severe than I was being led to believe. Still, I am stuck in this surreal situation where I am alone with my sick child surrounded by my ex and his family.
Since Hurricane Ike was sending torrential down pours our way that evening, my mom got Red and headed back home. I stayed. My ex who has never been a selfless person says to me, “I can stay here tonight if you need to go home and sleep or go to work tomorrow, I can stay.” I just brushed this off because I wasn’t going anywhere. Later I came to realize this was his guilt surfacing. Guilt that he had let my son get so sick he ended up in the hospital. More on that later…
My ex-mother-in-law is a kind enough woman who offers me to please come to her home and shower and nap if I need to. I thank her and let her know I may do just that. My ex-father-in-law is a very ignorant man who chose this time we had together to make numerous comments on diet and exercise. Comments, that he meant discreetly, but were actually just as bad as if he had sat there, calling me a “fat-ass” while I was in one of the most stressful situations of my life. This should not have been surprising to me due to the fact that when my ex, his son, left me with two babies for a sleazy, tramp he had been sleeping with since my son was about 9 months old, he felt it acceptable to tell me a story of a man who asked his advice on how to get a wife and he told him to lose weight and clean himself up and that turned this mans life around and he got a wife and was well and happy. Once again, a little tale to avoid just coming out and saying, it was okay for him to leave you because you got too fat! Actually, one of the biggest fights my ex and I ever had (and there were some pretty BIG ones!) was over his father speaking rudely about his sister-in-laws weight. This was in the early days of our marriage and I was much thinner at the time but I found this highly offensive and I made the mistake of taking up for this woman and against my ex-father-in-law and my ex was so furious it led to a huge fight between us. This is a simple little snippet of the events I experienced and why it was so awful that my son had to be hospitalized there of all places.
The next day after very little sleep and being woke up about every hour. My ex and his father both arrived to sit all day with us again. His mother was at her home babysitting his and his wife’s son. This would be my children’s half-brother. After waking at about 7 and waiting for the doctor to come until 1130, I realized that because we weren’t at our hospital and our doctor wasn’t coming and I was waiting for a staff doctor who was seeing all new patients, I might as well go and get a shower because the doctor wasn’t coming in anytime soon. And I needed to get away from those two men!
I got to my car called my mom and boo-hooed like a baby! This was the worst experience of my life and it was only half over. My son was sick, my ex had allowed him to get this bad, I was stuck in a town I hate surrounded by people who I wasn’t comfortable with and I was exhausted. I then called my sister who said she’d be there the next morning. They both just listened and encouraged me but it wasn’t as good as having them with me.
I had to go to the store and buy something to change into because I hadn’t expected 48 hours. I then went to my ex-mother-in-laws house to shower. She offered a nap, I said no thanks. She offered food and food money, I said no thanks. She insisted, I said no really I have my own money. She insisted again so I took it and got a sandwich. (I bet her husband wouldn’t have advised that. Me eating I mean!)
I went back to the hospital and stayed. Hively was better, the doctor had been in and didn’t have any new news. Things got better, Hively improved and on Tuesday morning my sister came to sit with me. God bless her! I honestly can’t tell you when I have been happier to see somebody. Hively was happy to see her too. He interacted more when it was just he and I or when she came than all the time they were there in the room with us. Later that morning when the doctor came in he released us to leave. HOME! We were heading home.
We got home and got settled, we beat Red home from school and then when she got home we went to my moms for dinner. This is where the story of Friday night and Saturday began to unfold. A story that had been told and kept from me until I was home; away from the targets of my wrath!
I keep saying “He tried to kill my son.” But it wasn’t like that…..exactly.
This ordeal was exhausting to live and is just as horrible to document so it is parts…
PART 1
It all began a week ago Friday (9/13/08). Well, actually Thursday night. Hively came home with a tad bit of a sniffle. On Friday we woke and shoved off to begin the day. The kiddos went to school and I to work. Around 10am my cell rang and it was Diana at Kel El calling to say Hively is in the office and he doesn’t feel well.” I say alright, his grandma will be there to get him. So G-Ma Joy and Pope pick him up and they go off to shop at Meijer’s. I call and ask about him, she says he is fine just a bit of a cold and he doesn’t feel like schooling it all day. I say cool and proceed to work. It had been arranged that his bff would come over after school and his mom would be over around 530 to collect him before their (Red & Hively) father arrived at 6 to pick up for his bi-monthly visitation weekend. I called to inform the boys mother that Hively had come home and I would still get her son when I got Elana. (She had a work engagement which is why I was getting the bff in the first place.) As I leave work I call G-Ma and ask if I should get Hively before the other kids or after. She says she will meet us at our house because his cough has produced a slight wheeze and she will give him a breathing treatment before we get there. When we arrive home he is fine and she was unable to locate the Nebulizer so he didn’t have a treatment. All fine, he sounds alright and we are unconcerned. He plays with his pal for over an hour and at 530 his father pulls into the drive. I go out to tell him that he is too early and Hively has a friend over. We discuss that Hively has a bit of a cold and I ask if he has a Nebulizer and Albuterol for it (his father also has Asthma). He says he does but to send Albuterol in case he doesn’t have any of that. So, I do this.
SIDE NOTE 1: I hate to send my children away when they are ill. I myself hate to be away from home sick and I know they do to. They only “visit” at their dad’s house and my house is their “HOME.” Plus they are little kids and I know I take the best care of them when they are sick because that is my job as their mommy. So I was very torn about sending them with him but the way this date was working out, I felt I had to. Their father had planned a trip out of town on his next scheduled weekend and if they didn’t go that time it would have been very long between visits.
After I go back into my house I tell Hively his dad has arrived and I need him to do a breathing treatment before he goes. He does as his buddy and he watch an episode of FlapJack and Red goes out to show her father her new Clarinet. Hively finishes the treatment and claims it hurt his chest (that is not a common complaint). I kind of think he is just a bit rushed but mostly fine. He really isn’t wheezing any and seems to be breathing fine. The mother of the friend picks him up and the kids leave with their dad. (After I get Hively a garbage bag because his dad is concerned the chest pain will cause him to vomit.)
The father lives just under an hour away. About 3 hours later I call to check on Hively. The phone isn’t answered. I leave a message stating that I am just calling to check on Hively because the chest pain thing made me nervous and if they can call and let me know he is okay, I would appreciate it. I get no return call. On Saturday I try twice to call and check on him again. There is no answer or return call either of these times. I am unsettled. I have a bad feeling. I sleep badly Friday and Saturday nights. I wake early on Saturday morning (I am a notorious late sleeper. That is my favorite thing about the Saturday the kids go to their dads, I sleep LATE.) I am nervous about his health. He wasn’t even bad, he only had a cold. There should be nothing to be worried this much over. Yet, I am very uneasy. (I do not call during His time with them normally. He has so little time with them; I never try to encroach upon his time. However in a special situation like this, I do not feel an answer or return call to assure me my child is fine is too much to ask. I know this man. Too well. I feel his lack of response to my calls is a controlling mind game that he plays on purpose, to keep me anxious and nervous.)
SIDE NOTE 2: All single parents with primary custody, who have to send their kids off to visitation with the other parent will understand when I say, I have been doing this long enough to know that I have no control over what happens in His home. Short of blatant neglect or abuse, I have no ground to object or complain about what He does with them during His time. I have been doing this long enough that I have come to terms with my lack of control over this situation. I have had to put a tremendous amount of trust into this situation with this man who I do not trust at all. I have HAD to put my most precious belongings in his care and I have to trust he will care for them properly.
Sunday morning arrives and I am woken by my cell ringing at 8am.
It is Him: “Hively is really sick.”
ME: (half awake) “Okay.”
HIM: He keeps saying he wants to come home.
ME: BRING – HIM – HOME!
HIM: Well, I’m just going to take him to the Urgent Care and get him a breathing treatment.
ME: Didn’t you do those at home?
HIM: Well, I did yesterday and I left the room and came back and wasn’t doing them very good. He was alright yesterday, we went to Chuck E. Cheese, and he threw up a couple of times. But he wasn’t wheezing too badly. He slept good last night, all night long, but he sounds bad now. I’ll just take him to the Urgent Care.
ME: If he wants to come home, you can just bring him home.
HIM: No, I’ll take him and get him a couple breathing treatments.
ME: Alright, call me back and let me know when he is better.
It is Sunday, I am up. I am a bit of a nervous wreck. I take a shower and get ready church. My phone never rings. I go to church and I keep my phone on vibrate. As soon as the preacher gets into the podium my phone vibrates. There is a message. I see it is from him and I immediately call him back.
HIM: They are admitting him.
ME: WHAT? WHY?
HIM: I don’t know, it’s really not that bad. I’ve been here for treatments and never been admitted. I can’t believe they are going to keep him.
ME: Okay, well, will they let you leave there and come here? Tell them you can have him in the ER here in 45 minutes, I will meet you there.
HIM: I’ll ask and call you back.
I go back into the church auditorium; I get my purse and whisper to G-Ma Joy what is happening. We leave. She heads home to change, and I do the same. On the way to my house my phone rings again.
HIM: They say no. He would have to go by ambulance and we’d have to pay for that.
ME: Alright then, I’m on my way.
HIM: He’s really not that bad.
ME: Okay, well, I’m on my way! I’ll be there within the hour.
HIM: He is really fine, this is ridiculous.
ME: I’ll be there soon!
I run in my house. I change into jeans. I throw sweats and a sweatshirt into a duffle bag. I throw, his Nintendo DS and games, about 5 of his favorite DVD’s and his portable DVD player into a bag. Oh, and Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer into the bag and fly out the door. I call G-Ma Joy and repeat what he said. She says she will follow me there in her car so she can get Red and come back home with her. As we merge onto the freeway, my phone rings again…it is him.
They Deserve Better.
Speak to me oh master of the stars, (or as you may know them, Yahoo Horoscopes).
Seriously this is mine for today. After the way things in my life have been going, there couldn’t have been any more fitting advice from any source possible!
You can try to teach someone who’s rigid to be more flexible, but do not get too disheartened if that stubborn friend, family member or coworker shows little if any sign of ever loosening up! Their failure is not your fault. See, in order to learn to be flexible, people have to be ready to be flexible. They have to be able to see things from other people’s perspective, to walk a mile in their shoes. This person needs empathy to start to relax their up-tight attitude.
So, it is not me?!? I am being flexible and open minded enough? It isn’t that my instincts are off or that my perspective is inaccurate?
One back in October, 2001 I visited an advisor. My main question was this, “What do I do when I feel like every time I try; I walk into a brick wall?”
Her advice, “Turn around and walk away from that wall.”
Sure this seems like simple advice but for some reason it kept eluding me. The answer was so remedial and looking me in the face but I just didn’t see it. Less than a month later on November 1, 2001, that is essentially what I did and I can honestly say my days have ALL been better since.
This is my dilemma for today; why is it that if a women who has been scorned and has turned and walked away from her furry and moved on with her life can not ever be free of this circumstance? Unfortunately when you share children with someone, they NEVER really go away! They are there in your children’s lives frustrating them and you with their choices. Continuous frustration by “the wall” that is still there. So, this woman can have moved on but her frustration for what is done to her children and her frustration for what her children should have but don’t, this frustration is ALWAYS chalked up to “she (you) just hasn’t gotten past being left and she (you) need to move on.”
Listen! F*CK THAT! I have moved on and I am happy in my life. I live well and have great pride in all the things I have accomplished since that first day of November all those six and a half years ago! Sure hell may hath no furry, but there is nothing to say that the furry doesn’t subside and give way to an acknowledgement that life is better without a controlling, manipulative, abusive person around on a daily basis.
There is however one thing that upsets me, saddens me, angers me and will ALWAYS for the rest of me years sicken me!
“My children have a crappy dad and they are perfect and wonderful and they deserve better than they have gotten!”
My Punishment.
I have figured it out!
She is punishing me for being a bad parent!
Who? The first grade teacher of course!
She thinks keeping me at home doing first grade homework will keep me and my kid out of trouble.
I just remembered this conversation from about a week ago.
He said, “Mommy, she wouldn’t let me put that my favorite restaurant was Casino.”
Red asks, “Where is that? I’ve never been there.”
I assume, “Oh, is that somewhere Daddy has taken you?”
(Side Note: Daddy is a bit fond of the tables & chips if you & I haven’t discussed this before.)
He answers us both with, “No it is the place Mommy and I went when you (Red) were gone to Indy with Grandma Aunty.”
I start to rack my brain thinking, where did we go? Where did I take him? (Knowing it was not the actual Casino as I/Mommy is NOT fond of the tables or chips.) Sure it had been only 10 days prior we had been there but you know me. I am lucky if I can tell you what I ate for breakfast this morning!
Then I get it! I reply (a bit too zealously), “OH! YOU MEAN COMO’S!”
Whew, that was close I was scared I had actually taken my 7 year old into a casino, dropped him off to be babysat by a few exotic dancers and spent his college fund on craps. But no, I had merely taken him along with me to dinner as I met with a few pals. (In my mother’s opinion this is just as bad, I should at all times remain sitting at home entertaining munchkins with my legs crossed but that again is a post for a different day.)
My concern is that the first grade teacher has been told this tale of our adventure to the Casino and now thinks me some trashy, low-life, parent.
Well, I meet with her and the Principal in the morning before school so we will see. I will be sure to wear something that shows off my tattoos and massive cleavage in an attempt to trick her into thinking she is right. Then, I will lay her out with my vast knowledge of children and their educational needs and WAHMO! I win! Hopefully to never be sent a damn in class assignment to be completed at home again.
We will see, I will let you know the results tomorrow. Until then, let me know what you do with your kids when you are in desperate need of a little gambling and your local strippers aren’t open for childcare. (Hey when a babysitter costs $10/hour and gas costs nearly $1000 to get anywhere, what is a financially strapped single mama to do?
