I need a squid and some bungee cords to wrap my brain around this one....

There is a part of this craziness which keeps mystifying me.

Supergirl drew a picture of The Day That Changed Her Life, and in this picture, her aunt is outside.
"This is after she came out of the house. Things were quiet."
In it, she has drawn her aunt, her friend and brother, and a giant, colorful mud pie.
She and her friend were making the mud pie and then the aunt came out to help.


Things were quiet because I had no more breath and had stopped shouting - the ultimate goal of the headlock and choking, I suppose, since there is really only one way to shut someone up.
He and his sister still maintain (or feign) surprise that someone would start screaming their bloody head off for help when put in a headlock, instead of submissively shutting their mouth.

Things were quiet because she waited until I had begged her to pick up the phone, begged her to take Bubbles out of the room, begged her to ask her brother to stop hurting me. She waited until I had pleaded with her for her to do something - anything.
Still ignoring the screams of my son.
She waited.
And then I had no more voice - he pushed my head forward - chin to chest- until I could emit no more than a pathetic squeak.

And then she quietly picked up my son and walked him out of the room to make mudpies.

Paternity Test, Anyone?

I've been thinking.

I'm not sure anymore, that Xman is the father of our children.

I mean, if he was, wouldn't he feel some obligation to contribute to their health, well-being, and survival?

I know a few families who receive child support payments. Two of them receive $1000 per child per month, and another receives $600 per child per month.
Xman would like to pay less than $250 per month per child.
In California.

Apparently not making the connection that his access to his children is in imminent danger of being restricted by the mere result of forced relocation.


6/7/10 Updated for CYA legal reasons:
I also forgot to mention 2 rather relevant points:
1) Early on, Xdude made me fill out paternity papers with DCSS just to stall the case. His name is on birth certs and he does not dispute his paternity - but it was a fine way to stall with 8 more pages of paperwork and humiliating questions, such as 'when AND WHERE was the last time you had sex with this person?'
2) Xdude MYSTERIOUSLY lost his fabulous, well paying and TRACKABLE job just days after being ordered to pay child support. Now he just takes on contract work so he can hide his income.
3) There has been an order made. An order for back support and current support. He has not paid one cent of the back support, and has not once - not even one single month since being ordered - paid more than half of what he was ordered.
4) There is no doubt in their paternity. I was being facetious.

Zen Head Games

So Bubbles and his buddy, Orion, had a few days to hang out and play together.
Orion's mom saw an opportune teaching moment for our 3 and 4 yr old boys, and went for it.
"See, Orion. See how Bubbles used his words and asked you for it? You took it from him but he just used his words and asked for it back. He didn't hit or push or scream. Bubbles. I am so proud of you for the way you handled that!"


"It's okay. I'm gonna smack him later."

Prop 16: I want her funnel cake too

What is in my head at this very moment, all at once and getting crowded.

• Bubbles will qualify for kindergarten this year but should not, under any circumstances actually go to kindergarten. Everyone agrees. Principals, prospective K teachers, and his speech therapist. In November, a state bill is likely to pass which will make most K teachers very happy: No more children starting kindergarten when they are four.
  
• If it passes, the change will affect children beginning school in 2012. Sigh.
• The cut-off in PA is already September 1st.
• There are 10 month winters in PA.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• I need new clothes but can't even afford to get the *&$%&*ing car fixed.
• Supergirl wants new shoes every week and loses at least 3 socks every week.
  
• Those 3 socks are never matching ones.
  
• She has a drawer full of unmatched socks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• Guess what? The farmer's market takes food stamps. Lucky day.
• Thrift store is 50% off on Tuesday.
• I need a butter dish.
  
• For under a buck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 11th, 2010.

Today is May 11th.
Six years ago today, Elijah died.

When I first started writing about Elijah and losing him, these days scared the hell out of me. The anticipation alone was nearly enough to order a 5150. I stumbled from his birthday (3/31) to his death day 5 weeks later, noticing little along the way but the cruel and continuous passage of time.
I was terrified of what the day might bring. What could be even remotely as awful as that day in reality? Nothing.
But anticipation of more grief is a scary thing when you are already steeped in grief. My coping skills were watered down by grief, and chipped away by an unforgiving and full-of-judgment partner.

I did anticipate this day (dead baby day) to be easier than in past years, but I wasn't sure why I expected that. A few good friends asked me yesterday how I was doing, knowing that this time of year has historically sucked for me.
When I was asked, I realized that I was actually fine, because my anticipation of today was not influenced by the fear of being mocked or berated for whatever came up for me.
In the past, if I cried or was sad or depressed on this day, (vividly remembering unsuccessful CPR attempts and images of Elijah losing his breath), then I was 'choosing to be sad' or even accused of 'being ungrateful and not appreciating my live children'.
I am allowed to grieve freely this year, and I'm not even feeling that overwhelmingly grievous.
I miss my baby, I always will, but I am resigned to it being my history. Not fighting the emotions that came with that loss.
And if I am sad today?
This will also be fine.

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.

Apraxia in Action; Continued

Today we were sorting through the old toy collection.
'We', being myself + the NDN (NextDoorNeighbors) who are also the BFF (BestFunFriends), also known as the LL's (landl'owners) and PWIHKF (People Whom I Have Known Forever). So let's just go with the NDN for now.....
'We' were all quite busy.
I had many 19th century 'spells' during the sorting, but managed to survive. (Oh I didn't tell you about the Pleurisy? Just waiting to contract 'The Vapors' next.)

We crossed paths with boxes and our children co-mingled with the discarded treasures.
Each child was allowed to keep one new toy from each others' donate pile.
Bubbles found himself particularly interested in a small toy cell phone with a 'John Deere' logo. He told me he wanted this toy because it was 'a deer phone'.

I said, "Yes, it has a John Deere on it. John Deere is a kind of tractor."

He said, "Yes! I have a deer attractor and I am gonna use this to catch a deer! Cause I have a deer attractor! I press this red button and I attract the deer!"


~~~~~~...............................~~~~~~~~


Mmm...............Okay.

Three Short Stories

Short Story #1:
A few years ago we were planning a trip to Hawaii for ten days. This was back in the day of ATA and Aloha Airlines offering competitive $300 round-trip tickets from CA to HI.
In preparation, I bought a litter box for my normally outdoor pottying cat, and arranged for a neighborhood girl to check on and feed her every few days, as it was February and I didn't want to lock her out of the house. Xdude disagreed and we had a little argument about it. Compromise was not his specialty, so I just said I was making the executive decision on this one and the cat would not be left out in the rain or leaky garage with the raccoons and coyotes for 10 days.
As we were leaving for the airport, the litter box was nowhere to be found. I searched the garage, which was the abyss of everything he tossed in there to either hoard or hide. No litter box.
We had to leave. So I reluctantly caved to his insistence that we leave her in the garage (with access to outside) for 10 days.

The end.

Short Story #2:
We had a trampoline, but Bubbles is so fearless and feral that I decided to put netting around it. Xdude did not agree - he insisted that netting makes trampolines more unsafe, as he had seen kids always bouncing off the netting when before they would have stayed in the middle. We argued a little bit about it and then said that, while I appreciated his opinion on that one, I had seen more children fly off of trampolines and was therefore going with netting.
After pricing netting for ours, I found a cheaper deal on Craigslist, so naturally decided to go with that one, as it already had netting and it was 14 feet - a great size for a trampoline if you have the space, and we did. Xdude agreed to go pick it up in his truck, came home and set it up.
"Where is the netting?" I asked.
"They don't need netting." Was the reply.
That was supposed to be the end of it, but I didn't take the cue.
"I bought it because it has netting, and I want the netting up."
"No, you bought it because 14 feet is a great sized trampoline."
"No, I bought it because it has netting, and I want the netting up."
He watched me put the poles in for the netting an begin to unravel the netting. I started to put the vertical poles in, checking out the support arch poles, and realized that I was about 5 poles short.
I confronted him. "Where are the poles? You just picked this up last weekend."
"I don't know. Maybe I left them there by accident. I thought they were all here. The kids don't need netting anyway."
"OH MY GOD YES THEY DO! I cannot believe you would do this - this is about the SAFETY OF OUR KIDS and you did it because you just don't want the netting! You did this on purpose, didn't you! You are such a jerk! HOLYSHIT I cannot believe you!"
"I'm not going to talk to you while you're angry."

The end.

Short Story #3:
I just moved to a great house on a lovely property which has room for - a 14 foot trampoline!! Friends who own the property were excited about bringing it over here, and we all agreed to try and get that netting up. I found the manufacturer and started looking for the poles, then decided to wait til we had moved it and then set it up to see exactly which netting support poles were missing. We brought the trampoline over the other day and waited to set it up until the intensely chaotic move was over. On Sunday I was making the rounds of the property for the last time. After living there for nine years, having moved in while 5 months pregnant with Supergirl, there was a lot to process. (Which is another story and it is not short.)
Having spent the better part of a month slowly wading through the accumulated pile of everything he left behind, and everything our kids have acquired (way too much, let me tell you!), sorting and purging or packing every book and every box of everything, and all of it while nursing a broken arm, it was no small task. I was exhausted on Sunday as I poked around bits of toys, mudpie spatulas sticking out of half-baked goods, sheds. I couldn't wait to get out and have my fresh start in my new house. I wanted to start unpacking. I was so over moving out.
I opened up a water heater shed on the cabin which I never use, and happened to look up. It was stinky and ratty in there. But shoved up above the old water heater was, unmistakably, a brand new (although ratty) litter box, scoop still attached.

:::::::::::blink blink:::::::::::::::

My heart pounded. Really? He had hidden things from me before; it wasn't unbelievable. I have said to people how hard it was to put my finger on his absolute entitlement to and ownership of control of everything. Everything.
But here was a tangible item, however ridiculous.
A litter box.

I rummaged around behind an old pool panel (or was it defunct exercise equipment? your guess....) and found something which looked vaguely familiar. I had just moved something exactly like it. Wow. What a score! Five metal poles for a trampoline.
Safety netting poles.

The end.