Unsilenced, forevermore

I have to say.

I am feeling exposed and unheard. Not here - because I am no longer at liberty to share my truth here....for now - but here's what else I have to say:

That's a huge improvement over being silenced.

Because he can try and silence me, but unless he strangles me, I will be heard.

Because I am no longer his.

Unsilenced

I have been having these particularly disturbing recurring dreams. In these dreams, I am pulling sticky gum? or tar?, or gritty-pebbly putty out of my mouth.

Although I pull it out in clumps and strings, I can't get it all out; I wake up worrying about dental disasters (which is not a completely abstract concept, considering reality), although these dreams do not coincide with any Real Dental Disasters.


Everything I have researched about this type of dream has pointed to the fact that I am feeling or being silenced.
I may be allowing this, but I have been silenced. I have chosen to be allowed to be silenced.

Okay. I will investigate this.

These dreams are stifling me.
They are silencing me.

I have a problem with being silenced.
And yes, I have a problem with being controlled, after taking many careful steps to reclaim my own life.

I will not be silenced.

Which is why I am putting myself back online.

Why I took myself 'offline' is another story, and that will have to wait.

This One is For The Haters

Oh HAI! You're still here?

Awesome.

Because, against all my better blogging judgment, there is something I wanted to say.

Remember how you called me cruel?

Well, afore-mentioned veterinarian friend met Sassy-kitten today.

Today?


'OMG TODAY IS A SUNDAY!!' you say....





Oh yeah I know that.


She was visiting us, so suck it.





"AWWWW....ZOMG she's GORGEOUS," said my dear friend who happens to be a veterinarian.


The friend who is bonded forever to me through her three daughters, whose lives she entrusted me with for over ten years; first through mutual agreement to obligation, and later by mutual agreement of mutual admiration and respect.


I just used the word 'mutual' three times in one sentence.


Go. me.





I told her about you.


You, the haters.





No, not you.





YOU.


Yeah, so she laughed at you.


My little girl's special birthday therapy kitten is in great hands.





That's all.








XOg

Ten Bullet Points

1. Angel Food Ministries: check. There's one 30 miles from here - I am so all over that for July.
2. Kitteh. No, we are not getting a kitten. Although I am very good friends with a veterinarian and would have access to fabulous care, now is not the time.
3. No, build-a-bear clothes are not a necessity. Far from it, in fact. But those behind the 'dress the bear' movement, made my daughter's life brighter yesterday.
4. Yoga for a clinically depressed child with PTSD and behavior issues IS actually a necessity and she starts Tuesday. $6.50 per class.
   
5. My power will not be shut off.
6. I am on the phone with KitchenAid. UPDATE: If you are not calling within the ONE YEAR warranty (hahahahaha) then you are on your own. Who knew 30 pound kitchen appliances were disposable?
   
7. Thank you to those of you who sent WORK my way. Any reviews or writing opportunities are welcome and I work for product and/or actual payment.
   
8. I do this in addition to working 8-6.
9. Yes, block o government cheese IS poor people food, and I am poor right now.
10. I know I am a great mom. Thank you.
    

Thank You, Internet

Yesterday I had six dollars and eleven cents to my name.
I also had two shut-off notices.
I wrote a whiny post about not being able to afford anything anymore - gas, food, and least of all, my daughter's $20 stuff a bear field trip with her Brownie troop....and worrying that when her birthday arrives in three weeks, I will have nothing special for her.

I was defeated, deflated, and sick of my own whining.

I didn't know how I would get to work (gas money), pay the rent, or feed my family next month. I had hoped he would have repaid me by now, or at least have tried. I was deep in the hole and only sinking deeper, in spite of attempts to avoid this quicksand.

I am only one person.
I am full time mother, I am part time father, I am events coordinator, breadwinner and the decider. I am exhausted just trying to tread water. I have been in this cold ocean for over a year. A year ago, I thought it would be better now.
My life is my own, and so that is better.
But my life must be carefully guarded against his (expected) attempts to regain control over me - for once I stepped over that line of friendship to relationship, in his mind, I became his property.

It took one generous, kind and brilliant person, and then another, and about 200 friends, acquaintances, and strangers to remind me that my life is mine. And it is precious.

And we are going to make it.


Supergirl thanks you for Marley's dress and leash.
I thank you for gas money and the smile on her face.
And for doing more for my children than their own father has.
And for the kleenex I purchased after reading all your beautiful comments.

And for restoring my faith in humanity.

You are an amazing community. A year ago I was told to take this blog down.
I am so glad I didn't listen to anyone but my heart.


Thank you.

Gwendomama's Mom Car Fund

You asked, I listened.....Y'all are too kind.

If you can help Gwendomama's family obtain a mini-van, please donate.
Here's the full story on why we need one....

If you know of anyone selling their mini-van, I will pay the donations forward to the seller.

Thank you.

In Which I Attempt to Sell Myself out for a Mom Car:

So here I go, whoring myself out on the innernets......

Bottom line:

Gwendomama needs a mini-van.

Yes. I do.

Most of you know that Xdude left me with about 4k debt along with some bruises.
There was an amazing fundraising (I bow to you, Shannon) movement, and my family was able to stay in our house because of you.
Now it's a matter of staying in our state.

In November, Xdude was ordered by a judge to begin paying child support in December (noting that he had not volunteered a cent until being ordered by a judge to do so). He ignored the amount ordered for both children and decided to just pay whatever he wanted, which is half of what he was ordered to pay. So he pays about $250/month/per child, which is embarrassingly insufficient in this area of the country. Except I spend approximately $125/month driving them to and from visitation, so it's more like $187.50/month/per child.

Xdude continues to ignore child support obligations, and has also continued to ignore my many pleas, my attorney's negotiations, and the Judge's stern recommendation that he sign over his interest in the car. See, the car is in his name, yet it has already been proven in court that I own 50% of it. Yes, I am embarrassed to tell you that I allowed him to keep the car in his name alone, but not nearly as embarrassed as I was telling you that I allowed the situation of power and control to get to a point where he attempted to kill me (or at least scare me into submission by choking me?) a year ago.

I recently moved into a wonderful little dollhouse owned by friends, who are allowing me to work some of the rent off in childcare trade. I am trying to work as much as possible - even when my children are with me, and I have a number of other families who are interested in paying me to do after school care as well. But I have 'his' damn car- which I hate and it only has three seats suitable for children, as the passenger seat airbag cannot be turned off manually. My children take up two of those seats.
I have explained this to the Judge; Xdude totally knows I want a larger car just so I can work more and do what he is not doing - support our children. (He does, however, live in a fabulously large house.)

Even the Judge pointed out that I needed a mini-van to work more and why would he sabotage my efforts to work more when it could result in a higher child support payment from him. But Xdude feels he is above the law and doesn't need to pay any more child support than he wants to...so he remains unmoved by any requests or persuasion.
I can't sell the car for a mini-van unless he signs over the title.
Nope, he just won't.
He feels no compulsion to do the right thing for his children, because he is incapable of seeing beyond his own anger and vitriol.

I need a mini-van.
So.
If you live in California and can afford to part with a mini-van, please consider me.
I have a friend who can work on Toyotas if it needs work...he is willing to help too.
Maybe you are willing to sell me the van for a low monthly payment and I will turn whatever I get (when he finally DOES sign it over....justice will be served eventually but the wheels of justice are powered by a 2 yr old on a tricycle) over to you when I can sell this damn car.

If you can sell me a mini-van SO VERY CHEAP or consider me a worthy cause for a charitable donation, I will be ever so grateful. I will make you cupcakes. Or chocolate sushi!! Yes, you will certainly be worthy of the chocolate sushi!


Yes, you are right - he SHOULD pay for his kids. Why should I have to ask YOU to help?

Well.....I hate to beg, but I am watching my California residential status become less and less realistic. I can't count on Xdude for anything except a constant argument.
I need to support these kids, I am trying to maintain our family in this area, and he is trying to sabotage any efforts I make to try and get ahead.

Thanks......now I am going to go hurl up the last little bit of pride I had.


3/5/10 EDITOR'S NOTE: Okay, there is kindness in this world.
Some of you asked me to put up a donation button, and now I have.

I love this woman and you should too

Verizon Disney Mobile Magic part 2: Video Style

Remember how I told you about this?
My little trip to Disneyland?
(btw, no I did NOT call myself a 'top mommy blogger' Alltop already did that...shhh!!!)

Censorship IS a Bitch.

So, just so we all know, I am being censored by an angry 55 yr old woman.
I was the recipient of a spewing, scathing warning phoned in by yet another of his family members. I was warned that someone is just waiting for me to screw up illegally on my blog. Like I said, just so we all know.
Ironically, that someone is the same someone who stood there and watched things degrade before her wide eyes and calmly walked away with my child as my situation became more dangerous. The same someone who admitted to the police that she followed me as I was trying to walk away from the argument, and that she did not call 911 when begged. The same someone who went home with a new and improved story (I mean, what are the chances that they would see the police report, too?) and said I went 'nutso wutso' and that 'he had to restrain' me.
Just so we all know, this is the person who is waiting for me to 'blow it'. This is the person who thinks I should stop writing about all of this and calls it WRONG and INDECENT.

Fuck that.
I am sorry my writing includes dead baby material - it happened and I write about it, okay?
And I am sorry that my writing now includes domestic violence material, because really? I would much rather it didn't happen and I didn't have to write about it either.
But it did happen.

And those bastards are not going to silence me any more.

They all know it is wrong.
They just choose to pretend that it isn't.

Be Careful What You Don't Tell People

I feel so overwhelmingly sad right now.

I can hardly find the 'poetic' and 'cryptic' words right now (which apparently describe my writing so well) to even write about this, as my style of writing and the mere fact that I do write, were attempted to be used against me today in court.
I don't want to feel censored, but if I remain a public blog, then I am and I will be. If something I say with heartfelt meaning can be used against me in a handy little twist, then yes. I will. You would too.


But for now, I cannot allow him to take away or hurt this one thing I have left.
Our children are ours. They will always be ours.
But this blog, these words?
They are mine.
This poetic license to be cryptic and have a quirky sense of humor?
All mine.

This is my blog. This is where I can tell my truth, where I can record the awesomeness that is my children, and even record my parenting triumphs and fails.
This is where I have been able to share the 'unspeakable'; the coping with parenting loss...this blog has been what even helped to keep me sane those years of cyclical arguing.
Sometimes people even pay me astonishingly low amounts of money to write things.
I write only the truth (which, perhaps upon reflection, is why the amounts are so astonishingly low).


Today I was told by a judge, that although it is obvious that there was a battery committed against me, he (the batterer) was offered a plea bargain which allowed to plead guilty to a lesser charge of 'disturbing the peace' instead of going to trial with the original two charges of 'battery' and 'child endangerment'.
So although he admitted to battery, and admitted to child endangerment, the charge was lowered.
He still gets DV (domestic violence) terms, which means there will be some court mandated counseling and a stay-away order, a small fine.
No trial.

I guess this is standard practice for a first time offender.
I have to tell you something. If it ever happens to you? Even just a 'tiny bit'? Even if someone 'just' shakes you or threatens you and doesn't do what you consider 'physical damage'?
Report it.
Do not hesitate to report it.
That was my biggest mistake. I didn't report the first time, or the second time. There were no bruises. Just fear.

Ponder This Too

Same place, different view.

In Like A Sneaky, Cave-Dwelling Lion

I just realized that February is almost over, and greeted that thought with a cold chill and deep dread.

And then I responded to that thought with, 'Come ON get over your bad-ass moping self already. You can't have an annual springtime depression. If you can see it coming, you can avoid it.'
And then: This is not a head-on collision anymore.
And then: Deja vu.

Seriously. Let's look at the track record here.

The short story is:

Elijah would have been six years old on March 31st, 2009.
But he won't.

So if you are looking for another train wreck raw experience, hopefully evolved....then perhaps you have come to the right place this month - hang on!
If you are one of my thirty one fourteen faithful (OR RANDOM) readers who has given up on me because I cannot seem to:

• post regularly
• post anything of content
• post about life
• post about reality
• post enough about death
• stop posting about death
• do any of that shit right

...well then, welcome! Welcome back wholeheartedly, because all of those things are true, which makes you all right. Instead of me.

And this next month is sure to be a lovely walk through the blacks and browns of my poo-filled emotions. And the lovely lilacs and blues and vanillas which are Elijah.


Hang on.

My Blog Ran Away

We're sorry...

... but your query looks similar to automated requests from a computer virus or spyware application. To protect our users, we can't process your request right now.

Umm, well okay then.

That is what happened to me when I tried to go to my own blog this morning.

I wanted to post something, but I am afraid I don't know where to send it - the bitch left me no forwarding address.

Sunday Link Love

Guess what? I also write here, now. A brand new parents of special needs consortium, of sorts. As a matter of fact, I wrote there today.

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I have seen anatomically correct dolls before, but this one made me gasp.

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Last week's waxing story just begged for another....Thanks, Linda.

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Jenijen has been putting the squeeze on me to attend Bacon Camp. I am almost her bitch.

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This condom commercial proves why commercials in the US suck.
This one is just highly embarrassing. You've been warned.

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This video of Jennifer Lin, pianist extraordinaire, when she was playing at the TED conference, blew my mind. Especially interesting from about 17:00 in....

I'm Going To Eat You Up!

Why are my kids' faces on these M&M's?


Go find out!

Finally.

I am sorry to say that this month's content has not been - in any way - equal to the emotional (or at times even rational) content in my Nablopomo participation of previous years.

I wish I could say there was some resolution to the haunting by a local tortured soul, alas there is none, and I find myself desperate to seek some rationale, some motive, in the world of her insanity.
There is not: there is only more turbulence.



A few friends ventured to ask me: Why do you do such things? Why do you harken to the flocke and commit thineself?
And I said: Why do you talk such proper nonsensical bullshittinous accuracy back at me, fool?

And therily, Nablopomo was over.
Yet again.

Sunday Link Love

I am a huge fan of Sara Benincasa - don't miss the final Sarah Palin Vlog - and a huge fan of her Democracy Porn. Cindy and I would like her to convince her that she is on the wrong coast, and she should come on out and Join Us.





If you toss your roasted pumpkin seeds in a little maple syrup and then put them in the oven on 'warm' until they are dry, they are....awesome. (And they will disappear.)




I've been waiting for this woman to call me or come visit for hours. Does anyone know where she is? We may get tired of waiting and head to the beach. Tell her to meet us there.


How many of you have a therapy cupboard? With all of our recent transition travails, I have started one for Bubbles. Which is why Kelley made me cry real earnest-like tears of joy for her when she wrote about her therapy cupboard. (Which, I assume, is now full of shoes and chocolate.)


I just found this craft and can't wait to try it! I am sending my children out this instant to harvest acorns!

Live and Let Live

I recently got a comment about my reaction to Prop 8/Hate from someone whose name I actually can remember, but I will save her the embarrassment and refer to her as:
Angry Stupid Shrew With Ignorant Persona Edified.

A.S.S.W.I.P.E.'s was one of the few comments I have ever deleted, but it bordered on defamation and libel and I am seriously doubting she wants the trouble, so it had to be done - out of respect for her future.
A.S.S.W.I.P.E. was very offended by my bird. You remember? The bluebirds for bigots?
If the shoe fits, wear it, right?
If not, walk away. There are plenty of other shoe stores out there.

Apparently, A.S.S.W.I.P.E. was so offended by my bird (even though she did admit that she found me attractive!) that it evoked the following strong words from her:
Live and let live.

At first I was livid! Poke fun at human rights, would she? How could she be so blatantly, so stupidly, hypocritical to condemn me for my reaction to hatred and bigotry and three giant steps back for humankind? Surely she was living in a hole if she thought that the words 'live and let live' did not apply to Prop 8/Hate- or even to her beliefs!

(By the way, dear readers; When you think of word for 'bangs fist against forehead in attempts to come up with a word that means the agony which I feel when I encounter such stupidity!', please let me know. I could use a word like that now.)

Think about it.
Live.
And.
Let live.

(I guess if you read between the lines somewhere there may be the message 'go out there and vote to make sure that some certain people are not going to have the same rights as yours just cause they're different from you!' but I had a hard time finding that at first.)

But then, what I finally realized, was that A.S.S.W.I.P.E. was not echoing her own ill-thought credo to me, rather, she was finally coming to accept what was so horrendously ugly about her original decision to vote Hate.

Live and let live.

I am glad that I could help educate her.


It makes me feel all warm - in that 'scotch going down slowly' way.

A Special Education (Or, My year as a fourth grade fagtard)

I published my pain for you.


Squid and Jennyalice have collaborated on the Can I Sit With You project and books - and my pain was not exempt from their gain.
All proceeds from this brilliantly clever fundraising and awareness-raising project go to SEPTAR, their local special needs PTA.


Did you know what a french kiss was in fourth grade?

Did you know what a retard was?

Did you know if you were one of the weirdos?

Did you know that your whole peer community - your entire class and your classmates - could turn on you in one second for being kind to the wrong people?

I found out the hard way.

A Special Education