He was horsing around in the kitchen in his sock-feet and he slipped....crash, bang, boom sprained his wrist. He's all wrapped up in an ace bandage, received motrin before bed and he's sleeping somewhat peacefully. Poor little guy, wasn't worried about whether or not he had broken anything, just whether or not he would be able to go snowboarding next weekend! Gotta love kids priorities lol
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I've had a lot of people ask me why I don't write a book about my past...even SMJ posted a comment about it in my last post. Honestly I have a few different reasons and here they are
For one, I feel like my brain is a big jumbled mess and I can never seem to keep an organized line of thought. I have mentioned before how I feel like I have some form of multiple personality thing going on where memories are locked away, protecting me from my own nightmares. The brain is an amazing thing and although I have never shown signs of a true multiple personality disorder I personally know that I have what I like to call zones. I do not go back into that little girl zone much anymore, but yell at me the right way, even playfully lift a hand toward me and I will slip back there and hide in a corner like a scared child...LITERALLY! I have curled up in a ball in the corner of the kitchen just last year when hubby and I were arguing over something stupid. He didn't raise his hand, he just said some words that were mean and hurtful (as people aften do when they are arguing) and it was the exact words I had heard my mother say before she hit me. I immediately fell to the floor, crawled into the corner and bawled like a little baby. It ended our fight immediately but it was seriously a sad sad moment! I was pathetic....30 years later she still haunts me with simple words!
So no I can't get myself together enough to write a book because I can't get it all together right.
Second, I have a couple of my siblings that I am still in contact with. Older sister #2 will comment to me on Facebook at least once a month and older sister #3 is in constant contact with me. We text on the phone almost daily, we post on each others facebook walls all the time and we talk on the phone when our work schedules don't clash (which isn't very often since we work opposite hours) Anyway, these sisters of mine are not as open about our life as I am, they would rather just move forward and forget the past. They often tell me that I seem to embrace the past like it's a purple heart of bravery. They don't even like that I post Thoughtful Thursdays because they worry that someday it will link back to them somehow and people will find out what they came from. The last time I mentioned writing a book they flipped right out. That is why I only use numbers for them here on my blog, because they do not want their names used in any manner shape or form. I just don't want the hassle or the fight and I certianly do not want them to stop talking to me again. That's already happened once when I was in high school, again in college all over papers that I had written as class assignments.
See in high school, in my senior year, our english assignment was to write a paper on something we felt very strongly about and it had to be something that not only could we support in fact but also could apply personal experience. I wrote my paper on helping victims of incest. I supported my paper with the statistics that were out there and then I also added my own personal experience. When I had to give my oral report I stood in front of the class, asked them to close their eyes while I painted a picture in their minds. I read from my paper my story....from my point of view...it was the scariest thing I had ever done. I painted a picture of horror for them and no one in that class ever loked at me the same since. That teacher was the first person who told me I needed to write a book. BUT that was the day my siblings got mad because now others knew that I had been a victim. I hadn't mentioned them at all, but they were sure that now everyone knew their dirty laundry and they hated me for it. We didn't talk much for a year or so, they forgot it and we made up as sisters often do. Then in college for my psychology class I wrote a paper on the effects of abuse and I did include them. I figured no one would know them since they lived in a completely different state, but they worried that someone would somehow find that paper and then know their history and somehow the people they knew would find out their past. So we did not talk for many years after that one. I got married, I had my son and finally facebook brought us back together again. I don't want to lose this again, so I will not write again with their names...never again. If I were to write a book I would have to be creative, figure out a way to write the details without them in it and I don't think I could do that, I just don't know how.
And finally...my hubby also does not like me writing about my past. He doesn't like Thoughtful Thursdays either, he feels it keeps me in the past and that I should just forget it and move onward. He's always saying..."that's not your life anymore, just move on" I can't seem to make him understand that I am moving on and that this writing is helping me to move on.
And so I sit here and I post my life against everyones wishes because it's the one thing I can do for myself to help me heal. It's the one thing I can do to help me feel better, to help me make sense of this crazy life that has been mine. Even though everyone that I love tells me not to do it, that it's hurting me or it's going to hurt them, I do it anyway. perhaps it's just my rebellious ways, perhaps it's just my form of control, I don't know, I just know that I feel the need to write and so I do it. I feel the need to put this all into words and somehow in doing so I feel better so I do it again and again. Trust me, I do concider writing a book even though they don't want me to, and maybe someday I will, I'm turning 39 on Friday and that leaves me plenty of years ahead to write that book. Maybe I'll write it and give the profits to my son....maybe, just maybe.
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It's Friday and I missed my Thoughtful Thursday post....sigh...my bad!
I do try to get on here to post, but usually I have Thursdays and Fridays off, and since I had taken extra days off after the break-in I opted to work yesterday during the day to make up for it and try to make some money. I succeeded in making money, it was a profitable day to say the least, but that means I was busy answering the phones and not so busy posting on my blog.....of course we all know making money is more important because that helps us make it through the here and now and delving into my past helps too but it doesn't pay the bills or make it so we can go out and have fun as a family so it definately takes a second shelf. On that note....here's a little something I've been needing to get off my chest.
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Everyday I work hard to not yell at my child, it's not easy to say the least. When he doesn't have adderall he's wild and inattentive, out of control and can't listen to save his life. When he does have his meds and I send him off to school he does well there, but once he gets home it's time for the meds to leave his body and then we're fighting the side effect of that....anger! We're not talking a little anger either, we're talking Lifetime TV worthy teenager on steroids anger!! I'm not even kidding! Basically in order to not yell, in order to not be hurt and upset by his anger I have to send him to his room by himself and completely ignore him for a couple of hours. If I so much as walk into the room, look at him, anything it's that angry "WHAT?" with a look that could put me 6 feet under the normal 6 feet under! After the 2 to 2 1/2 hours he's a regular everyday kind of kid that I love to be around......except now he has no meds and he's wild and crazy and inattentive and can't follow directions to save his life....sigh
So as I deal with all of this I can't help but ask myself....what the hell was wrong with my mother??? Why couldn't she just have ignored me? Why couldn't she deal with me yet I can learn to deal with a child who is so much worse?? I worked so hard to follow her instructions, I did everything in my power to make her happy even though it seemed to be the impossible task! I even loved her when she didn't deserve and ounce of it, yet she beat me with the leather belt, she whipped me with the horse whip, she left emotional and physical scars on a daily basis...WHY?? If ever there was a child that I could possibly see driving a crazy woman like my mother to physical violence it would be my son yet here I am unable to even spank him, unable to lay a finger on him in anger.
WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH THAT WOMAN??
WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THAT KIND OF TREATMENT??
WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THAT LIFE??
I don't think there are any answers to those questions, I used to think that maybe she had PMDD like me, maybe that was her issue, but now I don't think so. I have forgotten to take my meds, felt that anger rise up inside me, felt the hormones going all whacky yet still I do not lay a hand on my child. I might yell, I might cry, but I would never lay a single finger on him in anger! And no, it's not just because I was an abused child and I'm afraid of repeating the cycle, it's more along the lines of it's just not right! Beating a child is going to get you no where, it's going to do nothing to help the situation. I don't hit my child because I have tought him that hitting is wrong and I have never understood how you can hit a child and then tell them that hitting is wrong...isn't that a contradiction of your teaching?
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Well that's about it, I feel better having made my weekly post about the crap in my life. Have a great weekend everyone :)
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Special for you, here's a short video of me last season You can see me coming over the edge of the hill on the right side of the screen and riding down past hubby.
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So, here we are one week later, one week since the break-in. Our house is now fort knox and no one is getting in without a fight!
Downstairs in the basement where they entered hubby has set up what we like to refer to as "the red-neck security system". In other words, he took a giant piece of pressure treated 2X6 and barred it across the door! It doesn't budge one bit now and seriously I think they would probably break themselves before they would break down the door!
In the main section of the house (and yes even downstairs where they entered) we have installed the home security system that beeps anytime anyone opens the door and wakes the dead if the correct passcode isn't put in within 30 seconds of entering one door, immediately upon entering either of the others.
Ironically my hubby has jury duty today...poor guy! He's a bit bitter about criminals these days so my guess is he'll get let go of pretty quickly...at least I hope so.
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Other news this week.....my brother-in-law got some kind of skin infection on his face which now needs to be removed. I haven't seen him, only heard about it from my father-in-law while we were visiting my mother-in-law in the hospital! Apparently her appendix ruptured and hers is shaped funny so that it wraps around another body part in there and they didn't see on the scan that it had ruptured. Now she has a major ecoli infection and a couple other complications and she'll be stuck in the hospital for probably a week or so. We did take Orion snowboarding on Saturday, he had a half-day lesson in the morning and then for the afternoon we took him out riding and I gave him a couple of lessons myself. He says he prefers my lessons over the regular instructors and is now requesting that he no longer take lessons from them but instead only get lessons from me. I'm actually ok with that, now that he's learned the basics I can get him to progress by giving him challenges and making it more fun and less like learning.
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It's that day of the week again, time for me to delve into the depths of my murky past and see what I can remove.
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being nothing more than a mother that was better than the one I had. She simply SUCKED, if you need a description of her, that's about what you would get out of me. She was a mean, evil, nasty woman that somehow managed to get married, have a couple of kids, have an affair and have more kids and then have another affair and have one more. She was the evil minded person who faked a suicide just to try to get us to behave, she worked in a flower shop making flower arrangements and seemed to care about those flowers more than her own children. She would beat us for the simplest things, many I don't even remember the reason, just the beatings. I remember her making my sister do dishes one night, she complained she was cold and her hands slipped on a knife and she cut her cheek. My mother refused to let her tend to the cut until the dishes were done and for her complaining about being cold she got to stand in a bucket of ice water while she did the dishes. She has a scar on her cheek now that is a constant reminder of that aweful day and I don't think she'll ever wash another dish again....if her dishwasher broke I swear she would result to paper and plastic before she would wash dishes. Mother traumatized us all!
When my sister #1 got into junior high and high school, I remember her wanting to wear a little make-up as all girls do at that age. My mother refused, yelled at her and told her that it was for "women of the night" (in other words only prostitutes wear make-up) My sister got make-up from her friends, applied it on the bus or at school in the bathroom. One day she forgot to remove it before the end of the day....she was beat within an inch of her life!
That was the way it was, daily, there was always a reason to be beaten. You didn't sweep the floor properly, you didn't wash the dishes properly, you complained. The biggest sin was stealing a sip of the milk out of the fridge before it had been separated. See when you get milk straight from the cow and put it in a fridge, it will separate cream from the rest. Mother liked the cream in her coffee and no one was allowed to drink a drop of the cream. Once the milk had cooled and separated we had to pour the cream into a different container and then we could use the milk for drinking, cereal (if we had any) or to make mac-n-cheese from a box. I clearly remember getting my butt whooped from here to tuesday (that's how mother used to put it) for drinking from the jug before it had been separated. I relished that taste, so sweet and smooth going down my throat, it was rather delicious...but it was dangerous to do. Mother would mark the jug so she would know exactly how much was in there and if anyone drank any. If any was missing we got called to the line-up to find out who did it and if no one confessed we all got beat just to be sure the right one got it. Somedays I could barely walk, let alone sit down without pain. She used to say all the time "Spare the rod, spoil the child" and that was her excuse for beating us to bloody pulps!
Perhaps that's why I hate the bible so much, why I can't stand religion...because that one verse always was used against me as a reason for beating the crap out of me and my siblings. Perhaps someday, when I'm laying on my deathbed I'll figure out the whole religion thing, but I doubt it! My guess is I will die, go somewhere and find out what the afterlife has planned for me. Personally, I hope that the afterlife is this place where my mother, father, brother #2 and Uncle are sitting and waiting for me. There I get to use any method of torture I want to make their afterlife a living hell! I hope I get the chance to give back the hurt, to give back the pain and get my own justice! I hope my afterlife is their hell....now that would be fun!
Have a great weekend everyone, hug your kids instead of hit them, teach them with words and not pain. Understand that someday you will die and they will too and if there truly is a heaven and a hell your hell could very well be their heaven hehe
because it will!
See I thought we lived in a nice cafe neighborhood, we have lived here for almost 13 years with no issues (well there was that time some kid ran behind our shed when they saw a cop coming, dropped their cigarrette and lit our shed on fire but I don't think that counts) ANYWAY I thought we were safe.
When Orion was born my hormones changed and I got a little spazzy when hubby would go snowboarding with the guys and I felt uncomfortable alone at night in the house so I asked for a dog. I figured I would never need him, but he gave me peace of mind so I asked and I received....besides every boy needs a dog!
Today I learned that even the safest of neighborhoods can have break-ins, even the safest of neighborhoods can feel unsafe for awhile. Today my house was broken into and thanks to my wonderful big black lab they didn't dare enter the side of the house where we keep everything, where we live, where all the valuables are. Last week I was ready to get rid of that headache of a dog, today I am thankful he's still here!
See they came around from the front, they entered through the mudroom door that leads into the unfinished side of the basement. Usually that door is locked, but last night hubby staggered in through there after snowboarding and he apparently forgot to lock it and I didn't know because I was working. They ransacked my basement, which luckily didn't have a lot in it. There's the laundry stuff and my husbands collection of comic books in boxes, but nothing major in any way. They went into the garage where my hubby's tools are and I don't know if anything is missing from there but hubby will assess that after work. They also broke into our shed, but there's nothing in there but summer tools , gardening supplies etc. Nothing worth stealing in any shape or form. If my dog was not on the stairs that go from the basement up to the main part of the house I am sure they would of had a field day.
So now we don't know if we can feel safe going snowboarding as a family, that requires us to kennel the dog and he won't be here to protect the house. We don't know if we can go anywhere, heck today I was gone maybe 20 minutes, 1/2 hour at the most! But that good dog of mine, when I came home I tried to go downstairs to do laundry and he danced and pranced and barked at me. He blocked the stairs and told me not to go down. What a good doggie...he got extra treats for that!
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My thoughts of the past today are thoughts of my dear sweet nephew, born in September of 1986, my son almost shares the day of his birth but we missed it by 1 day. This wonderful little boy was always smiling, always happy, always full of joy. He was my pride and joy, my very first nephew and I was right there the day he was born.
I watched him grow, I watched him play, I helped my sister in every way I possibly could. Her husband, at the time, was in the Army and he wasn't always home. She was barely 18 at the time of his birth, still just a baby herself. I would often come help her out with the cleaning or the laundry or my favorite activity, playing with her baby boy. Now I see him on Facebook, all grown up and in the Air Force.
This week his status says:
"Many times has the sun set. A lifetime filled with adventure. Some have laughed and some have cried. Each of us brought together, be it by chance or fate, for a purpose all our own or for that higher power. Either way... just seize the day. For one never knows when their last sunset may fade into that great abyss. Live*Laugh*Love ~ John Brown "
That's my nephew, such a deep thinker, such a wonderful person and I couldn't be more proud of him! I just found out he's being deployed sometime next month and I can't help but feel that pang of worry, that gut wretching feeling that you get when someone you love is facing grave danger. I pray he stays safe and comes back home not too badly scarred by the evils of war.
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That is all I have to say today! Hug your babies and hug those who are dear to you but aren't directly your babies. It's an evil world we live in and we never know what tomorrow might bring for us or them!
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SO SUE ME!!!!!
I can't have anymore children, my father/brother/uncle took that away from me! My OB told me after having Orion that I would never carry another child to full term and that, quite frankly, she was amazed I managed to carry Orion to full term! I have so much scar tissue, so much damage caused by thier abuse of my little body, that I can not possibly carry another child to term. My uterus will literally tear open killing me and any child trying to grow in there. Because of this, I opted to have my tubes tied and fried....I couldn't risk an accidental baby leaving Orion motherless.
So when I read blogs of other mothers who already have 4 children ranging in age from 1 to 5 years old, people who are struggling to keep their marriage together, people running off to Africa to do Gods work (bah God, who the hell wants to do his work when he lets small children suffer so) People who seem so nice and it makes me feel badly to think this way...when they announce they are expecting a 5th baby, yeah I get bitter. I get angry, I get down-right mad as hell! I'm not mad at MkMama, a small part of me is happy for her but there's that bitter part that just gets mad! It's not fair, just not fair at all!!
I know, I know...life's not fair but damn it, that just pisses me off!
Yes I am venting, as I so need to do sometimes. It's not just MkMama announcing that she's having a 5th baby, it's also that family that has 18 or 19 kids...you see their life story on tv. Why?? What makes them so damn special?? They are extra special because they can pop out baby after baby and not feel guilty for it? They are special because they can have so many children?? What about those of us who struggle through life just to survive, the ones who try so hard to have babies who in the end are told their dreams of even a moderate sized family are shattered because their asshole relatives thought it would be fun to rape them when they were just little girls? Why don't we have a tv show?? Personally, I think my story is way more interesting than some family popping out so many kids that they have instant baby sitters and easy child labor. I would never dream of popping out 18 or 19 kids, but I don't even get the chance to have even a playmate for my kid! I got my one chance and that's all I get and that doesn't make me special in anyway what so ever. It doesn't give me a tv show, and you know why???
it's simple....at least I think so
the answer is simply that people don't want to hear or see others struggle. People don't want to see those of us who suffered unimaginable pain at the hands of our parents. People don't want to even admit it exists. People would rather live in this world where having one kid or no kids, no matter the reason is just something you choose to do. If you choose to fore-go any birth control and just pop out baby after baby then you're awesome and you can have a tv show. It's ok for teenagers to go out an get pregnant too...hell you do that and you can have a tv show too. They'll even make an imaginary tv show about teenage pregnancy and how it's all ok. Don't show the real people, the ones out here struggling because they suffered. Don't show the child abuse unless it's some special on lifetime network and even then only make one movie about it and show it only late at night when other shows are on that most people watch. Don't make the world aware that there is an evil out there and it's called mommy or daddy. Keep that kind of thing hush hush.
Yes, I am bitter, yes I am angry. Not at the people who are blessed enough to be able to make the decision to skip birth control of any kind and just have baby after baby, not even angry at their situation...just angry because I don't have the chance to make that choice myself. Angry because that choice was taken away from me completely, taken by people who were supposed to love me, people who were supposed to be on my side. It's times like this that I feel the hatred the most and I don't understand how any all powerful God could allow this to happen! What could I have possibly done at 2 years old to deserve to be raped by the man I called Daddy? What could I have possibly done to deserve such lifelong suffering??
I just don't understand!
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Went snowboarding yesterday for the first time this season and boy is my body telling me how out of shape I truly am! I don't think I have a single muscle in my body that doesn't hurt right now...but it's a good hurt and although it totally killed my bowling for the day I feel great! It was nice to get out on the mountain and ride!
We had Orion take a lesson since it is only his second season of riding and he needs some refreshing on the basics. I was concerned that he might fuss a lot or complain that they didn't take him up to the top of the mountain, but when we picked him up he ran out of his lesson with the biggest smile I have seen in YEARS!!! I'm serious! It was so heartwarming to see that smile! He was so happy, he fell down only once and that was because he was heading toward some skiers who stopped right in the middle of the trail and he doesn't go fast enough to maneuver around people quickly, so instead of crashing into them he opted to take a sit down. His instructor said he did awesome, he was connecting his turns and that by the end of next lesson he will be going to the top. She said he's a little hesitant, almost afraid, of his toe-edge, but he's getting it and that's the biggest thing. With a couple more lessons he should be up there riding with mom and dad all day long!! I can't wait for that day to come for a couple of reasons....one, it'll be great to ride with my boy and two it'll be nice to save the 50 bucks on lessons!
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Here's a story that will really make you wonder about my mother
When I was 4 years old my mother called all of us children to the kitchen. She had us all line up according to age facing her. Then, starting at the oldest, she handed each of us a cigarette. She explained, as she moved along the line of children, that she was teaching us early how bad smoking was and she was making it so we would never, ever, pick up a cigarette willingly and smoke it. After handing out the cigarettes to each of us, she went down the line again with a lighter and made each and every one of us (yes even me the 4 year old) smoke an entire cigarette each. These were my fathers cigarettes..camels with no filters. Supposedly the lack of a filter made it even worse tasting and she figured we would get sick and never smoke again.
Only her plan backfired big time!
That day I started my smoking habit! I loved the sensation it gave me, the light headedness, the relaxing sensation coursing through my brain as I sat there smoking what was supposed to taste nasty and make me puke. It was at this point that I decided my father was someone worth being near on occassion since he often would leave his cigarettes burning in the ash tray while he went to get a beer or something to eat. I would hide behind his easy chair until he got up and then I would grab that cigarette and inhale deeply, savoring the effect. By the time I was 5 1/2 I was stealing cigarettes on a regular basis, not just the ones he left smoking in the tray, but stealing whole ones out of the pack when he left them laying around and then sneaking off to the tree house to enjoy and relax. If it was winter I would go out behind the garage and pretend I was building a snow fort under the big weeping willow when in reality I was sucking on my release. By the time I was 8 I was walking the roads looking for cans and bottles for deposits money to cash in for my own packs of cigarettes...yes back then a kid could walk into the general store and buy her parents a pack of cigarettes or even beer without a hassle...only the cigarettes never quite made it to the grown-up I said they were for. By the time I was 14 years old I was on a 2 pack a day habit! I loved drinking and smoking, it made me forget the pain and suffering for awhile, on the down side I developed asthma. The doctor told me to stop smoking, but I refused until one day, after a really bad attack, the doctor took my cigarettes out of my purse, threw them into the trashcan and told me I had 2 choices....I could take those out of the trash and die or I could quit smoking and live. Something made me want to live so I quit cold turkey.
Quitting smoking is probably one of the hardest things I have ever done in my entire life and I owe it all to the crazy lady who thought it would be a good plan to introduce a stressed out 4 year old to her first cigarette!
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Lately when I think about my childhood I get a bunch of confused feelings. I think about the man who I had always thought was my father and I still refer to him as my father, but in reality was not my biological father. I now know that really my father was the neighbor who lived in the house behind ours...the guy who gave me the creeps! I remember looking out the bathroom window and seeing him looking toward our house and rapidly closing the curtians because I was sure he was looking at me. I remember him watching me play across the yard and feeling a bit wierd about him staring at me. I thought he was just another guy like my father, another pediphile who wanted to hurt me just like daddy and big brother #2. Now I wonder if it was really that he was a psycho like them or was he just being a distant father watching his daughter play wishing he could tell her the truth about who he was to her? Is it possible that he watched me and stared at me because he knew he was my father and not because he wanted to hurt me? Did I judge him unfairly because of the creeps who were in my life? And why didn't he do anything to help me? Did my mother really have that much influence that she could make him stay away from me and never tell me the truth? OR did he not know for sure I was his daughter and was always looking and staring to see if he could find some resemblance since he knew the timing of the affair and my birth?? I guess I'll never know the answers to my questions, but a part of me really wishes I had someone to ask. I might try asking my sister...the one who told me this mind altering news, maybe she knows if he knew or not. A part of me wants him to have known that I was his daughter and another part doesn't because if he knew I was his daughter but let me be abused the way I was....well then he's no better than anyone else in that town and he deserves the same bitterness toward him even more so than anyone else in that town. To allow your own child to be abused, beaten and raped, that is unforgivable! Like I said, it's all even more confusing than it ever was now that I know the truth...perhaps ignorance truly is bliss!
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Well, that's it for this weeks edition of Thoughtful Thursday. Remember, don't lie to your kids, especially about their parentage! Let them know they were adopted, let them know who their real parents are because when they grow up and find out the truth, they will be bitter, they will hurt from your lies and their hearts will be heavier because you didn't want to admit the truth. And trust me, eventually the truth will come out because everyone has someone like my big sister who can't keep their mouths shut forever and eventually they will slip!
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Got a new helmet for snowboarding today and can't wait to give it a run on Sunday! My old helmet was bought back in 1996 or 1997. We went snowboarding all the time back then, when we were in our 20's, newlyweds, and we both had great full-time jobs that paid really well. We had money flowing out our ears (should have saved better but who thinks about such things in their 20's eh?) It was awesome, we both worked 4 days a week, had 3 days off and we worked the same exact schedules. So every weekend we drove up north to the mountain that had the most snow, got a room at the hotel and enjoyed lots of riding by day and ...well you know newlywed type stuff by night! I was in the best shape of my life by spring of 1998, gosh I wish I had that body back lol Anyway, I got the new helmet today thanks to a gift certificate from my mother-in-law for Christmas and this Sunday we're packing up all of our gear and heading north to ride as a family! I can't wait
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Or as Orion calls it... THE EVIL S WORD!
Orion is not a fan of school, but regardless of his protests and his ability to fake being sick, he has to return today whether he wants to or not! Sorry kiddo, you got many more years of this school thing and someday it's going to cost thousands of dollars to go so you better get good grades while you can so the colleges will want you to attend for free (or close to free) cause I certianly can't afford it on my income!
Meanwhile I shall enjoy the peace and quiet that is a child free zone for 6 whole hours! 6 hours to clean without destruction 10 seconds afterward, 6 hours to fold and put away laundry, 6 hours to relax and enjoy some alone time.
Now I fully appreciate those song lyrics "and Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again"
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Just testing out my signature box and the new background etc. Hoping everything looks ok. The signature isn't really new, just made smaller and being hosted from a different location.
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