text messaging - so efficient!

Texting is a fun way to carry on a conversation when one or both parties are out and about.
When the messenging works correctly, anyway. This is what happened last night:

1:04 am: text from me to friend

1:45 am: friend and I have 1+ hour long conversation on phone.

5:06 am: reply text from friend

So here's the three scenarios:

a) friend got message 1ish and replied 1ish but Ididn't get the reply til 5ish. VERY LIKELY.

b) friend got message 1ish but was weird and didn't reply til 5ish because friend is weird. NOTSOLIKELY.

c) friend got message 5ish, thought "wtf is wrong with her?" and then replied.
*Based upon the very boring and non-pissy reply, I'm saying this one is NOTLIKELY.

It's a good thing thing I wasn't some little emo girl. That would play out this way:

"If you don't text me back in the next 5 minutes, I know you hate me and I'm going to go slit my wrists."

oops.

I have a love/hate relationship with the world

I hate alarm clocks.
I hate having things I -have- to do.
I hate that my neighbor is a pain in my butt (post forthcoming).
I hate that I have no $$, and my child support doesn't cover my bills.

I like my dog.
I like having sacred, sweet free time...even if I'm supposed to be doing something else.
I like that my house is pretty and has a cute yard.
I like that churches around here run VBS (Vacation Bible School) and feed my kids and give them fun things to do.

I hate that all VBS's are at night.
And all are run by Baptist churches.
Who seemingly hate divorced people.

But they like my kids and they have giant inflatable things for the kids to jump on.
And they are not 'preachy' during VBS.

I like altar calls. I hope they have an altar call tonight.
I like altar calls because they are so cheesy and Baptist that they make me laugh.

I like my kids because my kids hate cheesiness.
I especially like Bean because she got into trouble for laughing in church at VBS the other night.
She was laughing when the teacher overdramatically said "and how does Go-hawd..." something.
I like my son's red mohawk.
I hate that some kids were calling him a chicken.

Geeks R Us

I have a new school folder.

It's pink and says I <3 nerds.

My son is a nerd. The other day we were walking through a parking lot and passed a blueish silvery car. Peanut turned to Punkin and said...

"Look! A Mithril car!'

Just last week he told me that he could handle helping me with something because "I have 18 strength."

Um, I heard those same EXACT words from someone when we were in Pasadena, under completely different circumstances. That person is also a nerd.

I really need to start a "you might be a geek..." type comedy routine ala Jeff Foxworthy. Except with TPS report jokes instead of TP jokes.

Pertinent yet Hurtful

Two things were said at school yesterday that I identified with.

The first one was a punch in the gut, when an instructor was discussing values.

::cue black preacher voice:: (he has one)

When a man abuses his wife and children, he doesn't value them. They hold no value to him.

The second one was a joke, kinda funny, but I think it sort of rings true for me.

What do fat chicks and mopeds have in common?

They're both fun to ride, but you don't want your friends to see you with them.

now that's class!

Ok, so one of the joys of going to the local community college is meeting the local community types. I regularly speak with another 30 something single mom, a 25 year old guy, another sorta quiet guy in his 20s (I kept pestering him til he talked and now he's coming out of his shell with others)
, a recovering alcoholic/social worker-wannabe guy who ain't from around here, a 19 year old Baptist girl who SO reminds me of young me -- all attitude, but wanting so much to be "good." I also daily speak with a 50 year old woman who JUST graduated from high school the day before college started (she dropped out in 8th grade to work in the mills).

So this woman. You've got to imagine her. 50, smoker for probably 35 of those years, been married three times, has raised her kids and kids who weren't hers. Has one son in the mental health hospital, another in prison. Got a good mental image?

*By the way, I adore this woman. I have nothing but profound admiration for her, for doing this so late in life, for wanting MORE than most people in her situation have resigned themselves to.

A few days ago, I was eating lunch with her when she began to tell me about her daughter in law. "Oh, she's high-class," she reported. "Her parents are both schoolteachers." I had to chuckle at the idea that schoolteachers are high-class! But it was the next comment that nearly made me spit iced tea out of my nose.

"All I'm tryin to say is that she's a higher class than you or me is"

How do you reply to this? On the one hand, I was greatly amused because I am decidedly NOT in this woman's class if you were to care about such things. On the other, I am flattered because it means I have become someone to whom different types of people can relate.

Unlove?

So can people choose to UNlove someone?

Closely related to the question of "falling out of love", I suppose. But I think "being in love" and loving someone are two very different things. I think love is a choice...but it's a heavily influenced choice.

It's all on me

So you know, I'm pretty drained. Punkin's been sick since Saturday night, which means I basically have slept 16 hours (including todays 2 1/2 hour nap) since then. I flunked a chemistry quiz this morning even though I knew the information because I was too tired to concentrate.

But that's not today's topic! I am going to rant! There will even be one or two bad words!

For all you "Christians" (and I use quotes there because, yeah, some of you are the real deal but I'm not talking to you) who told me I shouldn't divorce my husband...or those who said let the divorce proceed but I need to sit around FOREVER and never date or remarry because my husband might come to his senses, get help and get better and then come back....

I think the fucker's remarried.

He told his family he was marrying this other chick the day after he divorced me. I, of course, thought it was bunk. But, um, my dad overheard him talking to his attorney while we were waiting to be divorced.

He canceled his visit with the kids last Sunday which now seems suddenly so crystal clear. Perhaps he was honeymooning?

Yes, I'm angry. Yes, I'm hurt. No, I don't want him back. I don't want a THING to do with him.

But sheesh, could he have let the corpse of the marriage cool a little?

quick update

divorce happened last week.

was NOT as hard as I thought it was going to be.

Peanut's first words upon hearing about the divorce: Yay! Can I have a stepdad?

:( I had to explain I wasn't just going to run right out and find one.

My position is that I am going to finish nursing school and concentrate on raising my kids. If anything happens, it happens. I'm not going out in search of it.

Any man who would get involved with us is insane. And masochistic.

More later.

twas the night before d-day

Tomorrow is the funeral for what died a year ago.
I didn't just lose my husband (the part I'm GLAD I lost). I lost my dreams, my home, my things, my way of life, my friends.
Tomorrow's the day I finally say goodbye forever.

I'm raw today, through and through.

I wish people would put themselves in my shoes and really understand.

And I'm sick of being strong for everyone else, and I want to be able to fall apart. I think I've earned the right.

the long dark weekend of the soul

Saturday is June 2nd, exactly one year since we left our lives.

Tuesday is June 5th, the date of my divorce.

The emotional roller coaster has begun.

It's gonna be a long week.

Sabotage

Part 3 of "It's all in your head" is posted before this one. I just felt like blogging twice today.

I've been -trying- to lose weight for the past year. I've been down a couple of sizes only to spring back up again. And I finally figured out that I am deliberately sabotaging myself. But why?

I am afraid to be trim and fit.

I know what I was like before. But imagine this exuberant personality I've discovered hiding within me all these years. Combined with good-shape me. Really kind of a scary proposition.

If I stay fat, then I can always say to myself that if someone doesn't like me, it's because I'm fat and they're shallow. But if I lose weight, then I have to accept that someone doesn't like ME. Period. It's not their issue, it's mine.

If I stay fat, I can retreat back inside this schlubby, dumpy shell and pretend like nothing ever changed. But if I lose weight, it's acknowledgment that things ARE changing.

If I stay fat, I face a future where I remain reactive instead of proactive. I choose a lifestyle where I will eventually be putting my health into someone else's hands - doctors, nurses, other medical professionals. I will be told how to live, given the equipment and schedule to do it. But if I lose weight, I must take responsibility for my own life and body.

If I stay fat, I will be miserable but at least I know it. If I lose weight, who knows what will happen?

I need to start living.

It's all in your head part III

When we left our intrepid heroine (not heroin!), she had just instructed Bean to step out of the office....

me: How DARE you! You, as an authority figure, have just assured my daughter will NEVER come to an authority figure for help again!

Hop (with hand to chest): I'm not an authority figure! I'm her friend.

me: Her friend!? You've been in charge of her for the week, one of two adults.

Hop: Oh no. I'm a friend

Enter Grandma and Grandpa.

me: You are a pitiful excuse for a therapist. When is it acceptable for a therapist to force their own conclusions on the child? It doesn't matter what YOU think. She was groped and she was violated and you made her feelings irrelevant the second you said you thought the other child was teasing!

Hop (defensively): Our realities are formed by our feelings. I am trying to help Bean to have a more positive reality.

Grandma: No, the reality is that she was touched inappropriately and you're saying HER reality be damned.

Grandpa: What you did was the equivalent of a rape victim coming to you for help and you saying "Oh, he didn't MEAN to hurt you. He was just kidding."

me (angrily): Hop, because I would like this conversation to NOT be colored by my frustrations, I am going to step out of here and calm down.

Exit me, enter me into office where Hop's assistant is grilling my other child (Tater) about what she and her sister thought of the program, and why her sister wasn't there. She stops.

Things calmed down after that but so far this is what has happened:

We have asked, in writing, three times for the credentials of Hop and other people dealing with the kids in the program. We have also asked for an agreement between the school system and this organization and/or Hop. We have no responses, though this has been going on since February.

We have been to the school board and were yelled at by the superintendent that he has given this information to us. Yet again, we submitted a written request. Nothing. We have been to the school system office. Nothing.

The personnel director posed as the assistant superintendent at one point in time, and also created a phony web site for the organization's outreach program. He was stupid enough to put it on the school's main website. Even though he claims that the school system has NOTHING to do with the program.

We have found out Hop is a former principal, and has a Master's Degree (her own words). Yet she won't provide credentials. If she is acting in a therapeutic role, should she not have a degree in therapy? How much you wanna bet she has a Master's in Education?

We have found out this program is funded by a grant. After a LOT of looking, we found the grant. When in doubt about why our school board/system refuses to investigate, follow the money.

Hop herself said her plan was to put the kids through the program and then TRACK them through middle and high school. Sound like an outreach or a study? Conducting such studies is illegal without informed consent.

We asked both the principal AND the superintendent if other parents and/or faculty had complained or raised questions. Both said no. We have absolute assurance this is not so, from the very people who have complained.

Though my children have been removed from the program, it is still in existence. Indeed, followup "group sessions" are already happening with my children's peers.

We have had to put this on the back burner due to ANOTHER fight I'm fighting right now. But we will not let this go. There is too much hiding and scurrying around this issue for it to be legitimate. The children of our county need to be protected.

I was wrong

OK, I'll post the continuation of "It's all in your head" soon but I have to say...

To all of the people over the years who have loved Rush and I told you how lame you are and how awful they are...

I'M SORRY

I was wrong. I suck. Rush is really good.

The end.

It's all in your head part II

We left off at the alarming revelation that all children involved in the outreach program were told not to tell their parents anything that happened at the center. This was confirmed with two other families besides mine, for a total of five children all saying the same thing. They also confirmed the horse stuff, too.

The next day, I left the now-distressed (because of groping) Bean at my parents' home so I could go talk to the principal before bringing her to school, and to prevent her from having to see the groper. I went first to Bean's teacher to tell her that she would be attending class instead of going to the program. The teacher pulled me aside. "PLEASE file a complaint with the principal. I and a few other teachers have noticed that the children come back more violent than any students we've ever seen before, and we've spoken to her about it."

I proceeded to the office where I told the principal Bean would be attending school that day, and why. With eyebrows raised, she invited me to speak with the head of the program. We all gathered in a back office and I explained what had occurred. "Did tell you she didn't want to attend the program anymore or was that something YOU decided?" I said Bean did. "Well, children should learn how to handle these things themSELVES. Unless you want to keep them in a bubble or by your side until they're 18, they will have to learn this." That ticked me off - my child is in 5th grade and she handled it exactly the way I would expect. She got into a situation where she knew she wouldn't get any help from the adults there, so she came to ME. Her mother. That's what I am there for - an advocate for my children.

The head of program (here on out, I'll call her Hop) requested a meeting with my daughter at 2:30 that day. Meanwhile, my father contacted the school board and requested the credentials of Hop, and a copy of the agreement between Hop's organization and the schools. I also contacted my daughter's therapist and asked that she attend the 2:30 meeting.

2:30 rolled around and I, both my parents and the therapist showed up. Immediately, the other side (principal and Hop) realized they were outnumbered and said that we'd better not overwhelm Bean with adults. So Hop, Bean and I shuffled ourselves off into the back office to talk.

Bean began her tale and was repeatedly interrupted by Hop. At one point Hop responded, "If he REALLY did this, why did you sit near him?" and Bean replied that he kept following her. "Oh, he most certainly did not!" was the answer. Then Hop asked, "Do you think he was teasing or being cruel when he did that?" I wanted to stand up and shout "WTF does that matter?" but I let Bean answer that she thought he was being cruel.

That's when the conversation took a turn for the even-worse. Hop stared my daughter in the face. This woman, acting as a therapist for my child during the week, stared at Bean and said, "Oh, we all know how he was teasing. -I- think he was teasing."

At which point I shut her up, looked at my daughter and quietly asked her to leave the room.

More about our fight tomorrow.

To Do

This was inspired after a visit to yet another evangelical church that's just way too full of itself. I left and went out to the car and the only piece of paper I could write on was labeled "to do." Enjoy.

To Do
Find God outside the trappings of human emotions
Beyond the high-tech, high-energy dance of the modern, Western church
Past the manipulative music that plays when we pray
and the tissue-wielding, teary woman who champions causes like she's Miss America
(you don't need a committee and classes to change the world - just do it one bit at a time)

So where IS Jesus in all of this?
Did He even get invited to this big party we have in His name?
Did He attend the show - the huge production - put on in His honor?

Somehow, I think I hear Him in the church when nearly everyione is gone
when the lights are dimmed and the stage is empty
and distant footsteps echo in the halls

When those who are unwelcome and underdressed can sneak in
and speak a simply beauty

To Do
Do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8)

the strangest direction

I thought I had my future figured out. I was going to dual-enroll in two community colleges here in NC, get my AS in Dietetics mostly through online classes, put my kids in a great private school (dependent upon scholarship) and work part-time there doing something or another. After I got my degree, I would go ahead and move somewhere or another. Life was going to be great but I had NO peace. So then I thought we'd homeschool and travel a bit, and I'd continue my classes online while doing so. Somehow I could scrape up enough cash for a popup camper, eh?

But you know, something strange has happened over the past few weeks. I have been helping my one local friend care for her dying father. I was able to be there during his final week and I can't tell you how much I enjoyed just being there to comfort him in his last days. I also loved speaking with each hospice person and each caregiver who visited him. And I realized death doesn't bother me.

People have been suggesting I go into nursing since I started pondering getting a college degree. I have balked. When it came up #1 for my career choices after three separate tests, I began to think those darned tests were faulty. I had seen my own mother go through nursing school -- and eventually drop out-- during my childhood. Nursing, to me, seemed like the LAST thing I wanted to do.

But you know, sometimes the last thing we want to do is the best thing for us. Yesterday I walked into the college and changed my intended major to nursing. A local organization has agreed to pay for my school costs if I don't manage to get a grant. So far, reaction from most people has been amazingly supportive. My dad has agreed that nursing school will indeed be stressful and he has promised that he and my mother will care for my children when I can't. My former employer encouraged me, explaining that she went through nursing school when she was a single mom of two little ones. She says it can be done. It will be stressful, but it can be done.

I have had a HUGE burden taken from my shoulders. I have such peace about my future now. RN's are in high demand everywhere. If I want to leave this podunk mayberry world, I should be able to find a position anywhere. RN's have many different kinds of shifts. Some work office hours. Some work nights. I will be able to schedule my job around the needs of my family. And best of all, I will eventually be able to support myself and my children - possibly even help them get through college.

I'm not sure how it's all going to work out. The community college is actually about 30 minutes away, 45 minutes from the kids' schools. I'm hoping that maybe I can get them into a charter school closer to where I'll be hitting the books. I applied a couple of months ago but won't know until June. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to find a house for rent towards there, and my kids can just go to regular schools. Then I won't be paying ginormous gas bills.

Oh, and I just can't wait to get that spiffy nurse's hat. Yay.

it's all in your head, part 1

Before I post, I'm going to link you to one of my favorite videos. Yes it's Napoleon Dynamite-esque at first but just keep watching.

OK, so it's time to tell y'all about something nutty that's happened to us. Read on and you will probably think I'm making it up.

My older kids, Tater and Bean, were "selected" for an outreach program. The principal of the school came to me herself and said she thought the girls would benefit from the program as it would teach them "coping skills" or something like that. They would also do equine (horse) therapy. Given that said program gave them four days worth of excused absences from school (they do hate school), I signed the permission slip and that was that.

Tater attended the first four-day session. Kids were shipped off by van at the beginning of the school day to another facility off-campus and returned at the end of the school day. Tater had no comments about her stint other than "It was OK."

So Bean went. Bean is my tough kid so I was surprised to find her crying when I picked her up from school on the third day. "Please don't send me back there!" she begged. I finally got out of her that she had been groped by another student. When I asked if she'd told the person in charge, I was told, "The same thing happened to 'Laura' but when she told the teacher, she was told to handle it herself."

To get her mind off of her distress, I asked how the horses were that day. She replied, "Oh, they were fine but we weren't allowed to touch them." Given that equine therapy usually involves touching, I was a bit surprised so I asked, "Really?!" Bean clarified, "Oh we WERE allowed to touch them. But only after we'd asked them in our MINDS."

This has since been confirmed with other children that they were told to stand there and say nothing but hold their fingers to their temples (as in concentrating hard) and say nothing. They were to use their thoughts to ask the horses something like, "Can I enter your space and touch you?" and if the horse turned around, they could pet it. Bean, of course, just faked it.

Then came the alarming revelation (since confirmed with other children): The kids were told to tell NO ONE what happened at the center.

More tomorrow otherwise this'll be too long. Besides, I've got a Mates of State video to watch again. Cause it's allllll in my head.

things that pop into my head

You know that old saying about women with dyed hair? the one "Do the drapes match the carpet?"

If a woman has a Brazilian wax, what would be the answer? She has linoleum?

(if the woman has a crew-cut, I suggest she refer to the hair on her head as mini-blinds)

Lessons Learned

Things I learned on my big vacation:

Norwich, Connecticut has the largest number of "Slow Children" according to the amount of signs we saw.

Enfield, Connecticut has way too many road signs declaring "Drug free zone!"

Every driveway in Chelmsford, Massachusetts is a "blind drive." (The poor drives! Can't something be done? seeing-eye drives?)

If you must be stuck in traffic in New York, it will be for hours through the Bronx and at least one person in your car will vomit. Twice. At least once, it will be on someone else.

People in New York are very nice. Their subways are efficient but dirty.

People in DC aren't nice at all. Their subways are very clean but expensive and hard to find.

More later.

goodbyes stink

You know how you see someone and you have this big imagined happy goodbye in your head?

But then when it comes time, you never even get out what you wanted to say in the first place, and the last image they get of you is your ugly about-to-cry face?

Oh, you don't? Forget it, then.

goodbyes suck, especially when nothing is ever resolved before you say them.