This week will be a different post, although it is still a post about my past it will take a different swing. This week I am reflecting differently because this week is a wonderful week for me!

This week every year I like to think back upon my life and I tend to try to make sense of things, this is the week for me to feel like I have found the answers that I have searched for. Maybe they aren't the real answers, maybe they are just partial answers, but they are answers that make me feel better for 1 week every single year. I will share these with you today, this is what Thoughtful Thursday is about this week. 

The big question....why did I grow up in that home, that life that horrible existence? 

The answer has to be broken down and so I will share it with you. If I had not been born into that nightmare of an existence I would not understand pain and have sympathy on those around me. I would not know how to survive hardship as well as I do now. If I had not spent those first 11 years and 4 months in that home my life would have been different from what it is today. Had I not survived those 11 years and 4 months not only would I be missing from this world, but the lives of those I have encountered would also have changed and my son would not exist. Therefore, surviving those 11 years and 4 months was important.

If I had not been placed into foster care I would not have learned that the life I was living was not normal and that there was life after abuse. I would not have been able to be friends with the people I built relationships with over the years. I would not have been best friends with Angel and I would not have spent so many nights at her house listening to Barry Manilow, sneaking into her fathers sap mill to steal maple syrup. It simply would not have been allowed and so I would not have those precious memories and neither would she. She would have a different best friend! I would not have been able to spread my wings and fly a little and I certainly would not have been able to contemplate college. I would not have received the scholarship for foster children to help me go to the school of my choice. More likely than not, if we had not been placed in foster care, my older sister would not have gotten that same scholarship and gone to the college of her choosing and married her husband who managed a KFC. If I had not ended up in the foster home of the religious kind, I would not have been encouraged to choose a religious college in Massachusetts.

If I had not had a falling out with that religious family before I left for college, I would not have had a need to stay with my sister in New York and work for her husband at the KFC he managed on my vacations. If I had not learned the ways of the KFC I would not have been confident enough to walk down the street from my college and get a job working at the KFC right there. If I did not work at that KFC I would never have served that young man his large fries, large Mt. Dew and small gravy most nights of the week. If I had not worked at that KFC I would not have been invited by his room mate to their apartment for a party after work. If I had not gone to that party I never would have met my husband face to face!

May 3, 1991 I went to the apartment of a guy who had invited me over for some drinks and a gathering of friends. I was curious because I wasn't much of  a party girl but I needed to socialize and make some friends. I needed to let my hair down. So I went to that apartment and I remember it so well, it was a nice day and I was sitting there on the couch and Mike says to me that his room mate would be home any minute. I asked if he was cute, he laughed and said he was kind of boring because all he did was work and sleep and watch tv. He talked about how his room mate would come home from work and fall asleep on the couch. I asked again if he was cute and he says that I could see for myself. He walked in the door and there he stood, not too tall, long hair, and my jaw dropped. I must have looked like my dog looks when he's staring at his food dish but I'm telling him he has to stay and wait. He had on these blue/grey work pants that hugged his nice tight butt and this leather jacket that was only zipped up half way. He had no shirt on under it and his chest muscles were to die for! I could see myself running my fingers over that chest...oh he was some major eye candy! 

I was instantly IN LOVE! This was the man I was destined to marry! This was the man I was supposed to be with forever! 

We have never been apart since that day!

A couple of weeks later he told me he thought he was falling in love with me, 1 month to the day June 3, 1991 we got our first apartment together. We simply knew we were going to work. I don't know how we knew, it was just perfect, it was amazing, he was amazing and I couldn't have been happier! Already in that 1 month he had done more for me than anyone had ever done. The man knew me for 3 days, yet when I asked him to drive me to the doctors to have a surgery and to drive me back home after, he did it without a complaint. When I found out that lump was pre-cancerous cells he held me and comforted me and told me everything was going to be okay. 

5 years from the day we met, May 3, 1996 we exchanged our vows formally. We knew it was going to happen, it was just a matter of time. It was an amazing ceremony surrounded by friends and my new family...my biological family wasn't there. My sissy couldn't make it and the others didn't care to or I didn't care to have them there so I didn't invite them. This was my day, my time to shine and it was my day to be happy! My foster family that I had the falling out with was there, my foster father performed the ceremony. My foster mother, who had taken the greatest offense to my teenage rebellion even smiled and congratulated me. It was a fairy tale kind of day, a day I was destined to have.

After that day, things moved rather amazingly. We bought our house, we bought a new car and we went snowboarding every possible chance we had. We enjoyed just being us, but I wanted more, I wanted to be a mommy. Hubby resisted, as most men do in their early and mid 20's and it was ok for awhile. We were having fun and it was good to not have to worry about anything more than the cats and where the most snow had fallen so we could go riding at the best mountain. We fished in the summer, we snowboarded in the winters, we shared so many happy memories and some where along the way I started to grow up, to see that my life was no longer what it had been but it was now whatever I could dream.

If I had not dreamed with this wonderful man, if I had not gone through everything I have, if I had a different start I would definitely have a different end...and this ending is looking pretty darn good. My husband may drive me up one wall, across the ceiling, and back down the other side...and vice verse since I can't deny that I don't drive him a little crazy too....but through all that he is still the man I love, the man I was born for, the man who was created to complete me!

This coming Tuesday we will be celebrating 20 years together. We have been legally married for only 15 of those but I always go by the bigger number because our hearts were dedicated before that paper was signed, before my name changed and it was official. Everyone knew it was going to happen, we were a couple, we were simply meant to be.

My evil egg donor used to wear this perfume, it was called "Roses Roses" and I think Avon made it (although I am not sure about that) I always liked that smell, it really smelled like roses and I used to like to try to sneak hers because I wanted to smell good too. It's one of those rare good memories that I have. For some reason, it seemed to me anyway, she was nicer when she smelled of roses and perhaps that is why the rose is my favorite flower. I also felt like my life was kind of like a rose, fragile, not easy to care for and full of thorns.  How could someone so evil produce such a beautiful flower as me?  I am the rose, she is the thorns. She used to call me "Little Rose Jenny Deb" I don't know why but I could relate to it because I knew I was the beautiful flower and she was the thorn in my side. I lived on the hope that someday someone would come with some pruning shears and cut me from her vine, they would break off the thorns so I could be handled with care and they would save me. In due time I was saved, placed into foster care, and things got better in some respects. Emotionally it took a long time, heck it's still taking time, but anything was better than the life I had been living my first 11 1/2 years! At the same time I was confused, scared, and no one would tell me anything. The police had told my siblings to not tell me anything about what was going on, they could not let me in on it because they were afraid I would say something to the egg donor and then she would kill us rather than lose us to the state...I have always resented that they did not tell me anything until that morning, I resent that they did not trust me enough to keep the secret that I surely would have kept because it would have meant salvation. I also would have been able to sneak a couple of my prized possessions into my school bag so that they would not be lost to me forever. Even after being taken away and placed into foster care I was not told anything. Big Sis #2 was the ring leader, she would have meetings with the others or with the social worker and they would tell me nothing about what they were talking about. I know they wanted to protect me, but it sucked because what they didn't know was that I had suffered just as they had and I too needed someone to talk to. I remember feeling so liberated and scared at the same time when we had to go to court the first time and I got my very own guardian ad litem and he spoke for me and only me. He actually took me  off to a room all by myself and asked me what I wanted, how I felt, and what I wanted from the court and the system. It didn't matter what my siblings had to say, it was all about me and me alone! I didn't want to offend anyone, but at the same time I was scared of offending them for they had been my saviors, my guardians, the people I looked up to. I felt that they didn't care what I thought about and that I should agree with them simply because they always said they knew best so I asked what they wanted and the guardian told me that what they wanted did not matter, that it was me he was concerned about. It was such an amazing feeling to have someone care about what I thought that it was actually a bit overwhelming. But when the time came and I got to go before the judge and face my egg donor and say that I did not want to go back to live with her, it felt wonderful. When the judge asked how I would feel if my siblings went back to live with her I said I would miss them but that I would never go back so long as I had the choice. I remember a sick sort of happiness as I watched the tears roll down my evil egg donors face when I said those words. I remember the judge asking me for examples of things she had done and as I told him she sat there pleading with me. She cried out things like "Debbie, how can you say these things?" or "I never laid a hand on you, I only loved you" to which I liked to reply "No, you laid belts and metal yard sticks instead" I enjoyed watching her cry and plead for help, I enjoyed her tear stained face, I felt she was getting a taste of her own medicine. When she came to the foster home for a visit I would go to my room and refuse to come out until she left and I would enjoy watching from the second story window and she cried her way to her car, got in, and drove away with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her brown eyes, so like mine, finally feeling the heat of burning tears and all I could think was "Cry and you'll get more!" that's what she used to say so that's what she got, and I enjoyed it. 

Sometimes I worry that makes me just as sick as her, that relishing in her pain makes me just as evil as she. A part of me thinks I should have had more sympathy for her, that perhaps she was feeling regret for what she had done...but sadly until the very last 6 month foster care meeting where my foster parents asked to adopt me....she continued to say that she never laid a hand on me, that she never hurt a single hair on my head. She lived in complete denial of her evilness. There is no way she felt sorry for what she had done if she could so easily deny it. But even still, am I evil too for enjoying her pain? This I can not answer, I can not be certain of  what is correct. A christian would probably say that I am doing nothing but hurting myself but I do not feel pain unless I linger too long on what she did and a way to feel better is remembering her sitting in that court room crying her eyes out pleading with me to stop because in those moments, whether she realized it or not, she was feeling a small part of what I got to feel every single day from her in my early years. But no matter how much I would plead with her to not hurt me, to not hit me, to just stop, she would not and so I made her plead and beg and I did not stop because it flt good. It felt good to watch her suffer and it felt good to release all that pain and have someone finally believe me and not send me back into her evil clutches once more.

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Have a great weekend everyone and remember there is life beyond pain, there is hope beyond hope and sometimes it's okay to enjoy watching someone who wronged you suffer.

Smile...today is the end of yesterday, and the beginning of tomorrow

Smile...today is the end of yesterday, and the beginning of tomorrow

Wise words spoken by a wise man...my Big Brother. Big Bro is what I have called him for pretty much forever, although he was not one to carry his heart on his sleeve, he had subtle ways of letting you know that he loved you. I don't think I ever actually heard the words "I love you" come from his lips to my ears or if I did it was so rare that I can't even remember it, but I chalk it up to the fact that he too was hardened by the world  we grew up in. It is those rare moments where he let me know that I was loved by him that I hold onto and remember because truly he is the bravest and most wonderful person I will ever have the honor of knowing! My Big Bro, my protector, my silent hero, a man I will never, ever, forget!

One of my most treasured memories involving him was when I turned 12 years old. It was my first birthday in foster care and the first birthday to get recognized on my day. Up until that year I had to share my birthday with Big Bro because he was born on the 1st of the month and I was born on the 5th of the month. 4 years and 4 days separated us but we had always celebrated together. I was saddened when I went through my day and I heard Happy Birthday from everyone I knew except for Big Bro. He had not even acknowledged the day once and I wandered up to my bedroom to cry. I think that I would have been happy if only he had recognized my day, it was him that I looked up to, him that I loved beyond all others. Hell, at that age I was wishing that my Big Bro wasn't my big bro so that I could grow up and marry him...seriously! I'm so not kidding about that! He truly was my first crush! I loved him more than he probably even realized and he had not recognized my special day. I opened the door and there, sitting on my bed near my pillow was a little stuffed tiger. The note simply said Happy Birthday, I love you! Big Bro had indeed remembered me, he even loved me, he just didn't show it the same as others. He was quiet, he was subtle, he was my hero!

So I will heed his words! I will put them onto a sticky note and hang it on my wall. These words are the words of a very wise man My Big Bro!

Smile...today is the end of yesterday, and the beginning of tomorrow

Once upon a time.....it's the way all fairy tales start, it's also how I often think about my childhood. It wasn't a fairytale, but it was a different world, a different time, and it often feels like it happened to someone else. I am not that small helpless child any longer, although pieces of her still remain inside of me she is not the person I am now. I have grown up, I have moved from victim to survivor, but then again have I really??

Once upon a time there was this little blonde girl who wanted nothing more than to grow up and escape her living nightmare. She spent her days dreaming of being someone, anyone, just not herself. She spent her nights dreaming of flying away. Somewhere around midnight her supposed sperm donor would come home from work and he would have a small bag of circus peanuts with him. He would give those to her in exchange for being quiet while he did unimaginable things. Her tiny body was smothered by his weight, was torn apart and bruised by his desires. He had been caught before with her older sister so he had to be careful to not let the egg donor hear him as he mangled another life. The thing that truly bothered her was that she was never listened to, no one ever believed her.

When she was in first grade she held back at school, she didn't want to go home because she knew what was going to happen sometime in the night. Her teacher looked down at her as she contemplated what she so wanted to say. She needed to tell someone, maybe if she did they could save her. She told her teacher what had happened, how her father did things to her "down there" and she hung her little head in shame. The teacher looked at her kindly and simply said " That's how daddy's tell their little girls they love them." There was no safety there, no one was going to save her that day.

Years later, when she was already in foster care she told her egg donor what had happened...the egg donors response was not what should have happened. It was cold, it was painful, it was just plain wrong! The egg donor looked at the child and told her she needed to stop fantasizing about  things! According to the egg donor, she had caught the supposed sperm donor with the older sister when she was 8 years old and after that the egg donor never left him alone with any of her girls. She claimed she never trusted him after that and he never had the opportunity. Although the little girl explained that it happened at night, when he came home and everyone else was asleep, she would not be believed and would again be told to stop fantasizing. That's the exact word she used...fantasizing...and all that little girl could think was "Why would anyone FANTASIZE about something like this??  How could anyone think that any child, any person, would fantasize about being raped as a two year old baby?" The girl did not understand why the egg donor would not believe her.

The girl was in college and still thinking about that comment from her egg donor. She thought maybe she was wrong, maybe she had just heard the story about her older sister enough times to think it was her instead. She sat down and wrote a letter to the supposed sperm donor, she asked him if he remembered doing it? She asked him if he knew what he had done so very long ago. She waited for over a week for the reply, half expecting it to never come. Finally, one day, she opened her mailbox to find a letter inside. the letter that she had been waiting for was there and finally the truth was revealed. He had written that he did know what he had done to her, that he was aware that he had ruined her childhood and that he was sorry. She stared at the words "I'm so sorry for all I did and I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me" and she cried. She grew angry, he wanted forgiveness? How dare he hope for any such thing! She replied that she hoped he burned in hell forever for what he had done and that he could go to his grave knowing that there would be at least one person in this world that would not forgive him for tearing their life apart! She was bitter and angry, but now she had the proof that it was not a fantasy, it was real and it did happen. Sadly her proof was laughed away and she was again told to stop fantasizing, that the letter meant nothing. The egg donor believed the supposed sperm donor had written what she wanted to hear plain and simple, that it was not possible that it was the truth. The girl ended up trying to kill herself when she realized that even though he had written "I know I touched you in a bad way, I know I was wrong for doing those things to you" she was never going to be believed by the one person she felt needed to believe her. She needed her egg donor to believe her, she didn't know why, but somehow if she believed then it would show that some small part of her loved her youngest daughter.

Luckily the girl was found, she got the help she needed and she grew to realize that the egg donor was simply in denial. This was the point where she was diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder, she was told that she had a lot of stuff locked away and the therapist offered hypnosis to help her discover all that was there...the girl refused, she had enough trouble dealing with what she knew, she did not want to face whatever her mind had locked away from her. Surely if her mind had locked it away it must be very bad and she did not want to face that, not then and possibly not ever. She moved on, began to dream of a life without fear and she found the man of her dreams.

The girl grew into a woman and she knew there were two distinct people inside her. there was  a victim and there was a survivor, she just needed to decide which to be. She chose to be the survivor because that one was the more desirable. Although the victim still comes through every once in awhile, still reminds her that she was a victim once, the woman has chosen to tell that victim that she has nothing more to fear and that she can be a survivor too.


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Have a great weekend and remember, when given the choice be a survivor, you don't have to be a victim!

This is why I missed Thoughtful Thursday:

My big Bro knicknamed his car "The Grey Ghost" so I had to ride down the trail with the same name 

 My son and I arrived at the lifts 5 minutes early so we had to wait for the first chair

 He also had to ride down his Black Diamond trail again just because it was a Black Diamond

 He had to get out of our ride in/ ride out condo bright and early

 I think I already mentioned that we arrived early and had to wait for the first chair

 Orion needed to perfect his form, he's so amazing to watch

 He had to go down that Black Diamond trail numerous times...that's him on the top of the ridge getting ready to come down

 We had to stand on top of the mountain again and see the world from a whole new perspective

 As I mentioned before, he had to get out there bright and early hehe

 He had to prove that he was a skilled rider by mastering that Black Diamond trail

 I had to get some photos of him next to the sign for his Black Diamond trail

 I has to see that boy happy and relaxed and carefree!

I'll make it up to you next week...I promise!

Proud Mama

So we're up here at Saddleback Mountain in Maine relaxing after a full day of snowboarding. Today I watched in amazement and awe as my son carved down his first black diamond trail. He has never done a black diamond trail before but today we needed to go down one to get to a really awesome looking trail that we could see riding up the chairlift and we all agreed we wanted to try it. I had expected him to do a falling leaf skid down that black diamond but instead he carved, heal, toe, heal, toe all the way.  I am so proud and the best part is he did it and when hubby and I both congratulated him he looked up and says "That was a black diamond?" He wasn't scared, no hesitation, he just went down like any other trail without even noticing that it was a black diamond trail! Mama is proud! Here are some moments from our day today.....

Orion getting ready to head out from our ride in/ride out condo

 Daddy stretching before heading out.....Orion and I named this one Ninja Dad!

Orion and Dad on the chairlift

Orion on the trail ready to go down

Orion and me going up the double chair together

Can you see the happiness in those eyes even through the goggles? I can!

Orion and Dad at the highest elevation Orion has ever riden from

The boys clicking into their bindings getting ready to go down from the top

A sign I saw in the lodge, I really liked the saying so I had to snap a picture of it.

Me and Orion sitting on the bench just outside the lodge

Can't wait to get back out there tomorrow, this is the perfect grand finale to a wonderful snowboarding season! Orion has progressed so much this year and I couldn't be any prouder of him!

As I go through my day to day life, I feel different from others around me. Perhaps it's because I know the darker side of the world, perhaps it's because I tend to be on the shy side and always feel a little awkward, perhaps it's because I was picked on by other kids for being different. Whatever the reason though, it is reality. I am different, I have wounds that are so deep I wonder if they will ever heal, I have emotional and physical scars that are invisible to the outside world but blatantly obvious to me. What I don't think I will ever truly understand though is how people who grow up in a world like mine can find peace with it.

A couple of my siblings have found their peace, they say they handed it over to God and that Jesus took away all that pain and bitterness, that our life was just a part of some bigger picture, some plan. They say that it's not Gods fault, that God did not invite the evil in, that man did. So God let the man have his decisions, whether good or bad, and let man live with the consequences of those choices. But why do I have to live with the consequences of another mans choices? Did I invite the evil into my world? No, I was merely a victim of the situation that was already festering there. I was born into the evil, born from the evil, yet I have to pay the price.

How is that right? 

My biggest problem is that I used to pray....as a little girl I would cry out to God and beg him to please, please save me. I asked him to please make it stop, to please let someone come and take me away....yet no one came until it was too late for so many things. My siblings would like for me to believe that God did save me, he saved us before we were killed by the evil egg donor and that makes it ok. I say it is not ok because although I was not murdered by my egg donor or supposed sperm donor, my spirit was none the less damaged beyond repair. I have a borderline personality disorder which my doctor says is not a true multiple personality disorder but is caused by PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) I have physical scars that caused me to almost lose my son and made it so that I can never have any other children of my own. I have memories that haunt me in the night making my sleep difficult. Sometimes when I am even just walking down the street or through the supermarket I will smell something and it will put me into a full blown panic thinking they are there, hiding in plain sight. Suddenly I become a little girl, scared and feeling so vulnerable that I want to cry. I can't help it, it just happens (thus the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder). My husband raises his voice in an argument and I cringe, it's a reflex that I can not control. The rational side of my brain knows that he would never hurt me, the small child is scared of being beaten, being locked into a closet, being hurt once again.

It's been almost 30 years since we were taken into foster care, but the wounds are still there and I just don't understand why that kind and loving God allowed it to go on for so long. Seems to me that the constant was the egg donor, she beat us and hurt us physically and emotionally. The other damage, the sexual damage was a constant but the source of the torture was ever changing. When the supposed sperm donor left, he was replaced by the evil big brother. When he left, he was replaced by the evil Uncle Deano. Then he was replaced by Evil Mr. P.  So that God saved me from one evil only to replace it with another? Why? Why did he allow these others to enter my world? Why didn't he just leave well enough alone? Why did he allow this plan to continue? All it did was leave me as a wounded bitter person who hates so deeply that I will probably end up in hell. Why would this be his plan? What is the purpose of such an evil plan?  Did he truly allow this plan to continue because Adam ate some apple thus inviting evil into the world? Did he really feel it was loving to sit there and allow me to be the victim of their evilness because they had a right to choose? Didn't I have a right to choose too? Why didn't my choices get taken into consideration? I could have taken the physical and emotional abuse from the evil egg donor, I probably could have survived all the way to 18 years old when I could get out on my own. Why did I have to suffer the sexual abuse over and over again when I clearly begged God to change it? Why would he allow them to continue to hurt me when I clearly could not get away on my own?

So many questions and so few answers.

My siblings say God has taken away their pain, I think it's a different story. Either they weren't abused as badly as me or they are just hiding behind the cross trying to pretend that everything is ok. There is no way anyone could feel it is ok to suffer that way  just because God planned it, that it's ok because God didn't make the choice but allowed our abusers to make those choices. If he is truly all powerful then that God could have saved me the first time I was raped at 2 years old...at a time when I didn't even know who or what God was. He is supposed to protect the small children, but he didn't protect me, he allowed me to hurt because Adam ate an apple.

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As you can see, I am feeling a bit bitter today. I recently had a run in with a relative who tried to convince me that God did save me before the worst (death) happened. They tried to convince me that God put us into a loving foster home and that it was all a part of his plan. I just don't buy it and it just makes me mad when someone tries to tell me that it was all a part of some big plan. I feel the plan SUCKS, I don't like the plan and I think even the best laid plans should be flexible enough to change when bad things happen. When you plan an outdoor wedding and it decides to pour rain you don't stand outside in the pouring rain in your wedding dress , making your friends and relatives sit in the pouring rain watching you exchange your vows. No, you adapt, you change the plans, you find shelter or put up shelter so that no one has to suffer because of your big plan. Humans were supposedly made in the image of God but he didn't have the brains to adapt?  Are we then smarter than God? The story does not makes any sense at all. They like to say that God had to watch his son die, yet they don't see it as wrong that God came down here to earth and raped a young girl because he wanted her to have his baby. I know the story says she just amazingly became pregnant, well that's not how it works so God must have  raped her in order to make her pregnant. Like so many other girls who are raped, she was too ashamed to tell anyone the truth. Perhaps that's why God thought it was ok for me to be raped over and over again...because he was a rapist himself. Now that theory makes sense to me.

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I know that I will eventually calm down, I will eventually push the immediate pain down low enough that it doesn't hurt quite so much. I know that I will spend my time searching for all the good I have now so that I can get beyond the pain of the past. I will do what they all do, only I will do it without hiding behind a cross or a bible. In the end, I believe, I will be the stronger person for having faced my pain and moved on.

Shameless Blogvertising

I have this blog that I like to visit, it's called Adventures of Working at Home. The lady that runs this blog not only works from home but she also shares legit sites that are hiring or contracting with people to work from the comfort of their homes. I like to visit her site because she always seems to check out the places that she posts about to make sure they are legit or she will at least admit that she doesn't have a lot of information on them. I trust her opinions and whenever I see something I think I can do I go for it. I am also a fan of hers on Facebook where she constantly posts new ideas and links to the blog posts.

Previously I got a link for that mystery shopping gig off her site. It was going great, but recently it kind of slowed down so that I wasn't making much money because I kept running out of numbers to call. Although it's a great job when there is work, it's real hit or miss right now and that just doesn't pay the bills. But just the other day she posted about a new job with a company that she loves working with herself.  I immediately followed her instruction to get information on the job of duplicate checking...basically you check to see if the question asked is a duplicate of a previous question. I passed their test with flying colors and was accepted to work with them. I started with them this week and already have almost $100. You have to understand though that I am not working all day every single day. I just work here and there, when I feel like it (which is becoming more often as I am finding this job to be very addicting) I have been making about $12 per hour, which is great for someone sitting on her couch petting the cat and watching TV while working.

Bottom line, if you have ever considered working from home you really need to check out her blog because you will find something you can do!

When I was 10 years old, the same age my son is now,  I had no idea how close I was to getting out of my nightmare. I had no idea how much my life would change....and no idea how much worse it was going to get before it got better.  It was down to me, big brother #3, big sister #2 and my Sissy (big sister #3) living at home. The evil egg donor now  had a  boyfriend, a man who was supposedly a Cherokee Indian who lived with us. He was someone she had somehow met while he was in prison...I don't remember the details of that but I do remember going down to Virginia to the prison to visit him once. I don't know what he was in for and truly don't care. He came to live with us after he got out and he joined the band that we had, playing with us and keeping us in line.

His last name was Penwell, we'll just call him Evil Mr. P for blog purposes. Evil Mr. P had a thing for little girls, I didn't know it then that he was messing with my 2 sisters as well. It was a morning after the older kids had all gotten onto the bus to go to school, being high school students they took the bus. I was an elementary student still so I walked to school.  He called me to his room before I left and I slowly walked in. I was terrified for some reason, he always gave me the creeps but it was never this bad. This was the feeling I had in my gut when the evil sperm donor would come around, this was a feeling I did not like.

He was rather insistent so I reluctantly walked into his room and he was laying in his bed with the blankets down to his waist. He motioned me to come to his side, I noticed he had no shirt on so I just stood there scared. He quietly said he would not hurt me (what a big fat liar he was) I slowly walked across the room and although it was only maybe 8 or 10 feet it felt like forever as I walked along the foot of the bed and up the other side to stand next to him. He patted the side of the bed, letting me know I should sit down.

I stiffly sat , barely on the edge waiting, wondering what was going to happen to me. I tried to tell him I needed to get ready to go to school, he said it wouldn't take long. He put his hand on my knee and I cringed. He said relax and slowly moved his hand up my thigh. He worked the button on my pants and I asked him not to, but he said he just needed to do one thing, he said it was a test to see if I would ever have to worry about boys.

He slid his hand down my pants and into my underwear. He rubbed his fingers all over and asked if it felt good. I shook my head but the words would not come out. Nothing about this felt good! He lifted me up and slid me across the bed, I noticed he didn't have any underwear on and he was there, just like the sperm donor had been. He said he needed to teach me about boys and the right way to treat them. He said I was a good girl, he smoothed my hair, he laid on top of me and I went into that zone, that world where I float above myself and watch that poor little girl get hurt once again.


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Ok I can't write anymore...this took me hours to type because I had to keep stopping and restarting. It's one of those things I don't think I have ever told anyone, one of those things that has been haunting my dreams lately and I am hoping that in putting it into words it will now go away!

I guess she's not all bad....an update

So yesterday Orion went off to school with some concern on his mind, feeling unsure after getting the note from that girl. He didn't know what to expect from her and was worried what she would be like since she obviously knew I had called her mother. He was worried she would take her anger out on him and embarrass him. Luckily that did not happen.

After school I asked Orion how his day was, he said it was ok. I asked how things had gone with the girl, he said ok. She had seen him in class and asked to see his agenda book and just slipped the hand made card inside. In the card she apologized for being a jerk, said she basically just wanted some time to play with her friends who were girls, and that she was truly sorry for her actions. She even wrote asking him to show it to me because she sincerely was sorry and that she hoped they could hang out again real soon.

I asked Orion if he felt it was sincere, he said he did but that things still felt weird between them. She basically ignores him at school and he fears it's because she doesn't want to get picked on for hanging out with a boy. He said it felt kind of tense and uncomfortable when they were together in class because he doesn't know how to act and not upset her. He doesn't want to  be the reason she gets picked on so he feels he can't even agree with her on a topic in class. I find myself feeling badly for him, having to feel this way, but also very proud that he is so respectful of another persons feelings that he would go to such great lengths to not offend her in any way. He keeps that attitude and he'll make a great husband someday...in the FAR distant future lol

I have come to the conclusion that Mama Bear might have been extra hard on the girl because she upset my baby boy, and maybe, if she wants to, she can come hang out with my kid and they can play. Everyone deserves a second chance, kids need to learn lessons and move on, and I would say they are now even. He offended her with an "f-bomb" and she offending him with calling him a freak. Besides, nothing brings me greater happiness than his happiness and we all deserve a little happiness! I refuse to be like my evil egg donor and keep my kid miserable by choosing who he can and can not play with based solely on my feelings. I can forgive and move on and let my boy be happy.

Mama Bear Syndrome

So I think I posted previously about my wild child and his friend getting caught texting when she was supposed to be doing homework. Well Just incase I didn't here's what happened.....

Orion has this girl he likes to text with and at the beginning of February her mother came home to find her texting instead of doing her homework. Her mother took the phone away and there were texts on it that she could see and unfortunately my boy had dropped the "F-bomb"  in his text. Her mom was understandably upset and contacted me about it. I took his phone away for a full week and we had a very deep discussion about his language. She also lost her phone for a week because of the fact that she was texting when she shouldn't.  After the week was up Orion got his phone back but she did not for whatever reason and so Orion called her house to see if she could come over, the answer was always a flat out "No" and we didn't understand why. I tried calling the mother to talk to her and she said that she wasn't against them playing together and that she felt they had learned their lessons and that the girl didn't have her phone back because it was just financially easier to not have it. Understandable again. The mom did mention that she didn't understand why the girl kept telling Orion that she couldn't come over without even asking and said that maybe the father had a different opinion and that she would talk to him and call me back. I even told her to please just tell me the truth, be honest and if they didn't want my kid playing with hers then just say so. The mom never called me back. Orion texted the mom once over vacation to ask if she could come over and the mom replied that they were out of state for a cousin's birthday so obviously she wouldn't be able to. Orion tried once more this past weekend, texting the moms cell, even going to the extent of saying that he was very sorry and please could he have one more chance with her and have his friend over to play. He explained that he missed his best friend.  He got no reply on that. Yesterday he came home from school very upset and bad tempered. He handed me a slip of paper that the girl had tossed onto his desk.

It read " STOP TEXTING MY MOM YOU FREAK!"


Mama Bear reared her ugly head!

My first thought was to take a picture of the note on my cell phone and send it to the girls mother! I was so ticked off, I simply could not believe this girl would treat anyone, much less my son, this way. I know her mother has told her over and over again that you don't be mean, you can decide that you don't want to be friends with someone but you can not be mean about it. Orion asked me not to do that, said he didn't want to get her into trouble because then he would never have a chance at being her friend ever again. I told him I wasn't sure I wanted him to be friends with her if that was the way she was going to treat him over 2 little texts asking if she could come play because he missed her! I tried to respect his wishes but my gut said it was a bad idea, that the mom needed to know how mean she had been. I talk to hubby about it first though because I know I can go over the top when it comes to my kid and he actually agreed with me. I picked up the phone and tried her cell and got no answer so I left a message basically saying that I would like to talk to her about what happened at school and that she could reassure her daughter that neither Orion nor I would be texting her again since it clearly upset her daughter that much. I did not tell her exactly what the note said, but I made it clear that I would like to talk to her about it because it wasn't right and it was mean. Somewhere around 9:30 at night the girl called here but Orion was already asleep. This morning he called her to see what she wanted and she said that her mother was forcing her to apologize  and making her bring in an apology card or something to give to him at school. Then he yelled at me because in his eyes, me calling her mom made it so that she will never want to be his friend ever again. I tried to explain how I felt it was the right thing to do, how I don't know if I want him to be friends with her and how she clearly was only apologizing because her mother was forcing her to. I asked him if he thought she would apologize without her mother forcing her to and he said he didn't know....and I don't want my kid hanging out with people who have no understanding of basic human kindness and respect. You don't want to be his friend, fine don't be his friend but don't be mean about it and call him a freak simply because some girls in class were laughing and joking about you being his girlfriend....afterall she was the one who asked him out! She had no idea that asking a boy out was asking him to be your boyfriend, or at least she says. Personally I don't care, I'm still mad! She treated my child, her supposed best friend, with mean words that she knew would hurt him. I had thought she was a nice girl, but puberty has hit and I'm not sure what to think of her anymore.

It's almost all done

The snowboarding season that is!


Sadly the snow is disappearing, we only have have 2, maybe 3 trips left this season and it's always bitter-sweet to realize that fact. Orion is absolutely amazing, riding almost at my speed and definitely fast enough that I can go comfortably. He's having fun and seems to be improving every single trip. It will be hard for him to have to wait until December to go back up, but once the next season starts it's going to be fun watching his excitement of finally getting back out there on his board.

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In other news, I have com to the conclusion that I really should not make a New Years Resolution because I will just set my self up for failure lol I have been horrible at  writing up Thoughtful Thursdays and I finally figured out why....WORK!

My new job that I mentioned previously has been keeping me busy during the days and then my regular night job keeps me busy at night. I am enjoying doing the two though because I'm averaging $15 to $20 per hour with the daytime job and then $10 per hour at the night job.

What a great weekend I just had!

Last week was school vacation week for Orion but unfortunately parents don't get that week off as well so hubby and I both were working the beginning of the week. Our next door neighbors grandkids came up from Maryland for the first part of the week so Orion had entertainment in the form of boys that he sees maybe twice a year and it was easy for me to make a good amount of money while he entertained friends. Plus, my job encourages kids in the background making noise since I am a phone mystery shopper and that makes it sound even more realistic. It was a win win situation all around, I got to work and make money and the boy got to play and have fun.

On Saturday we got up bright and early and drove up to Ragged Mtn to snowboard. It was all freshly snowed on and groomed and we had so much fun. Orion was moving in leaps and bounds and for the first time I could comfortably go at a faster riding pace and he would be seconds behind me. I would turn around at the bottom and look up the trail for him but he would be coming right up beside me, it was awesome! We spent the night up there in a hotel and Sunday greeted up with about 6 inches of fresh powder and it was still falling from the sky!  Our first run of the day we took Orion up on the 6-person chairlift and he and dad came down a blue trail while I took off and went down my all time favorite trail that has a flat area that is hard to get across on a snowboard unless you can maintain a good speed and skill that Orion isn't quite ready for. It was untracked and I floated on the top...it was an amazing ride down. Orion struggled on his first run because it's the first time he has ever experienced riding on powder and it does take a little different skill. I met up with them about half way down the trail they were on and I showed him how to lean further back on the board so that the nose lifted up enough to ride over the top of the powder instead of sinking in. After that he was all about riding with me for the rest of the day. We pushed it down trails he had never gone on before, did some harder trails, some easy trails and by noon time I was soooooo tired but he was wanting more! We took a lunch break and went back out but after another hour I was beat and he was asking if he could go find his dad because he was so not ready to stop. His dad had met up with his friend who had driven up that morning and they were off doing the really hard stuff riding in the trees and such.  We went looking for them and found them in the lodge eating a late lunch. Orion convinced dad to go back out even though he was tired and ready to stop for the day. I got out of my snowboarding gear and waited for them in the lodge. I was tired and sore and ready to go home. It had been an amazing day of watching him really ride and keep up, I could go fast and he was right there with me. It was a lot of fun but my left thigh (my back leg for my board, the steering leg) was still burning even though I was no longer riding and I was ready to just sit and relax for a few hours ride home in the car.

Monday morning I woke up to a thigh that was so hurting that even the slightest movement was pain! I couldn't even walk right, it was so painful. I pulled my thigh muscle with all that riding, but it was worth it because my boy stepped it up and moved up in the ranks of snowboarding skills. Today is the first day that I am not in major pain walking on my leg, it's getting better and soon enough I'll be able to get back out there and do it all again!

So neglectful

But don't say I didn't warn ya lol I told you at the beginning of the year that I can't seem to keep a resolution and sure enough here I am over 2 weeks late on a Thoughtful Thursday and no blog posts in like forever!  So sorry peoples....here's an update.....

We went snowboarding for my birthday! It was great, we pulled Orion out of school at noon time on the Friday before my birthday and headed up to New Hampshire. We got up there only to find out that Orion had packed his swimming shirt but NOT his swimming trunks. We searched and searched and did I mention searched, for swimming trunks! After almost 2 hours of going from store to store, we finally found a pair at Old Navy! Even Walmart didn't have any!  Anyway, we finally get back to the hotel, have a good swim (or should I say Orion swam and I soaked in the hot tub) then back to our room to relax for the evening.

Saturday was my birthday, we got to the mountain only to discover that Orion had forgotten the liners for his mitts so we had to buy him a new pair of snowboarding mitts because wearing just the shell would have been horribly cold for him. It was a perfect day though and Orion was literally carving top to bottom and gaining speed. He's got the skill down, now it's all practice! It was amazing to watch him really getting it and not wanting to take a break or anything, he just wanted to keep going back up again and again and again!  We had an amazing day of riding together as a family and headed back to the hotel at the end of the day exhausted and happy. I enjoyed soaking in the hot tub again and Orion and Dad played in the pool and then soaked in the hot tub with me. The boys took me out to Chili's for a birthday dinner and then back to the hotel for more pool time for Orion. I just sat on the sidelines reading my kindle.


Sunday morning we woke up to find that it had rained over night and it was all icy and cold outside. We opted to drive up to the mountain but after just one run we realized it was not good conditions. It was all frozen and icky cold and wet and just not fun. We packed our bags and headed home early. We got home to find that the rain here at home had caused the stuff on the roof to be exceptionally heavy and we were afraid it was going to cave in so we spent the afternoon shoveling snow off the roof while Orion got to go play at his friends house.

Last week was a week of working hard for me, making money and trying to catch up on much needed housework that I had been neglecting. Of course by the time the end of the week got here I was coughing and had a sore throat and a low grade fever. Still not feeling good now but plugging away and hopefully I'll be feeling much better real soon.

Meanwhile, this weekend the next door neighbors grandkids are up from Maryland and Orion loves to hang out with them so he is well entertained and I get to get some much needed rest during the day.

So here we are, another Thursday. I had debated not even writing a Thoughtful Thursday post today but I decided it would be in my best interest to just do it. See in a few days I'm turning 40...yep the big 4 0! I figure what better time to set a few things straight and get this crap off my mind!

As I find myself approaching 40 I can't help but remember back to past birthdays and what a disappointment most of them were. I never even had a birthday party until I was 12 years old in foster care and since my Big Bro #3 was born just 4 days before me, generally I never even got to celebrate on my day...it was always on his. I remember being so jealous and upset that he got to celebrate on his special day but mine was barely recognized because everyone had already wished me my happy birthday days before it happened. That's why, when I went into foster care and my foster mother planned my very first ever birthday party I was elated! My day, my own day and I didn't have to share it with anyone! It was AWESOME!

This is me that day with my best friend of the time Angel, I know the photo got messed up and all, but the memory of that day keeps that photo looking great in my eyes. This was taken outside the ice skating rink where my foster mother took us after we had cake and stuff.

 And this is the whole group of friends she had invited. My foster mother invited kids that were in my school that she knew because I didn't know too many and I was exceptionally shy and if it had been left up to me I probably would of invited maybe 2 people LOL In the back row is my friend Angel and Dori, the next row down is a girl named Heather, then Lisa, Missy and Leslie. In front is me with a smurf on my head..NO COMMENTS ON THE SMURF! It was 1983 ok! and next to me is a girl named Lenore...wow I can remember everyones names...that's how special that day was!

The gold hats had been bought by my foster mother along with all the tootsie pops.  I was so happy to have my own party and not have to share with Big Bro...my first HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

But before that birthday there had been many unhappy birthdays, no presents, maybe a cake if I was lucky. The one thing I could count on was my birthday beating, everyone called it a birthday spanking but it was not fun, it was not good and it was something I would never do to my child. You got one hit for every year of your life and then one to start you out for the next year...one to grow on they called it, I hated and dreaded the birthday spankings. I would get chased around by the entire family until I was caught, then I would be forcefully held down  so that I couldn't get away. They would all take turns "spanking" me, making sure they used the most force they could. I would cry and cry and cry and I often had trouble sitting down afterward.  My bottom would be so red and so sore that I couldn't sit down or lie on my back without pain. It was torture...so glad my family isn't around me now that I'm turning 40!

One thing I do remember quite clearly though....I remember thinking I would NEVER make it to 40. I honestly thought I would be lucky to see my next birthday, say nothing about 40 where I would be free of the torture, free of the pain, free of the life I had to live. I never dreamed I would be able to be here, a mother of a wonderful child, a wife to a tolerant husband, a woman looking at her 40th birthday! Even in that photo up there, I had no clue what life was going to hand me, I feared getting sent back and that would be my one and only birthday party ever. I had been in foster care for less than a year and everyone wanted me to visit with that evil egg donor they liked to call my mother so that we could grow a bond and build a relationship...the last thing I wanted to do. I didn't know I could survive to 40, I didn't know it was possible to get this far.

As I sit here now, pouring out my heart on the internet for others to see, I think WOW, when I was in that photo the internet was unheard of. I wrote in a journal and hid it in various spots so that no one (especially Sissy) could read it. I hid my emotions, I hid  my thoughts, I hid everything possible so that I would not get hurt. I feared life, I feared the people around me, I feared my own shadow. And now here I am, turning 40 and I'm still scared of a lot of things, still scared of meeting new people, still scared to let my heart open to others. BUT I'm not as scared as I used to be, not that timid little girl that hid in the corner in hopes that no one would notice me. If I were to see those school bullies who taunted me because I was weird...I would probably let them have a piece of my mind. I would stand up for myself because it's not my fault that I am who I am...I'm me because I was beaten down by an evil tyrant that everyone called my mother. I may be weird, but I am still a human being. Their taunting made me stronger in the end, the beatings taught me to survive, the life I had to survive rather than live, it made me who I am.

I am a caring person who thinks of others, I believe in treating others the way I wish I was treated. I believe in raising a child who knows how to cry and knows how to feel. I believe in being a good neighbor and paying attention to those around me. I believe that many of the kids who grew up around me might have been abused too and so they taunted and teased because it made them feel better and because I was an easy target. I believe they may have actually grown up and felt badly about how they treated me...I don't know if it's true but I want to believe it to be true because I like to try to believe that there is good in most people. I even believe that once, a long time ago, my evil egg donor was a good person. She lost her way, became bitter about life and instead of looking at the world like I do, she chose to be the bully forever. She chose to let whatever happened to her eat away at her. She chose to make herself feel better by making those smaller than her (her children) feel worse. She was a bully, plain and simple. I refuse to be like her, I will not be a bully and I will be a better person than that. I choose to take my stories and make them something useful, something good, hopefully something that can help others who have to simply survive.
I am turning 40 in a few days, and when I do I will live for the day, I choose to realize that I no longer need to simply survive.


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Have a great weekend everyone. I'm off snowboarding with my boys for my birthday, it's going to be a great time. Take time to smell the  (I would says roses but how about snowflakes given the recent weather lol) and take the time to LIVE....don't just simply survive...because living life is so much more fun than just surviving it!

Well this just SUCKS!!!!!

Yesterday our baby Clawdia  was extra lovey and playful. She insisted on playing fetch with the nerf dart...we toss them down the hall and she would race after it then bring it back for you to throw again. She normally would lay beside you on the couch and let you pet her, but yesterday she laid in my lap for a long time and just purred. I thought it was weird but also thought maybe she was just learning to not be so skittish. Sadly though, I think she was saying goodbye because last night my husband went over to the laundry side of the basement and she asked to go with him. She meowed at the door and he let her in, she went over to the cat bed that was down there and just laid down. This morning I went down to check on her and she was gone, passed away in the night in the quiet of the basement.