Thursday, September 28, 2006

And the Rains Came Tumbling Down...

Can't help but sing the song we learned in Sunday schoo l.

The rains came down,
and the floods came up,

The rains came down,
and the floods came up,

The rains came down,
and the floods came up,

and the house on the sand fell FLAT.

Well my house isn't build on sand, but evidently the water table is close to my foundation. The den (lower level of a split level - partially underground) had water seepage during a torrential rain on Friday night. Six inches of rain is what we got. It is raining again today. Did you know that water seepage is not covered under your standard homeowners policy? Rain damage from roof runoff yes, but not from seepage. Evidently seepage is a flooding term and I need a flood rider. Well, I live in town, no creeks, no river, no ocean, no hurricanes, just plain ol' suburbia. Who-da-thunk I'd need flood insurance. Live and learn.

Do you know that if you rent a carpet cleaner from the Kroger store, it specifically says "Do not run with the tank empty?" So--hehehehehehehe I broke the rules and ran it with the tank empty. Sucked up a lot of water, but the pad under the carpet is still wringing wet. Carpets are almost clean.

Where I work we fuss about mold issues, cause mold can kill ya I here. So-don't won't mold where my babies play.

Anywho--no one is helping me, "what's new?"

Had to waste my leave time to do something that I kind of sorta consider to be the man's responsibility.

Yes, I'm bitching.

Went outside this morning in the rain ("yep, she don't have sense to come in out of the rain.") and surveyed how the water around my foundation was acting. I moved my landscaping rock which seems to be damming the water making it stand near the house. I made fake little gulleys
that led the water away from my house and orneriness just stared at me like I'd lost my mind. But, he went to work and is pouring concrete in the rain today. Now, who's crazy.

  • A 27" TV is very heavy--good thing I'm an ol' country girl and can handle this sort of thing.
  • You find lots of wierd things under the couch and loveseat when you have three kids.
  • Behind the couch must be a good place to hide your alcohol from your wife.
  • When running the carpet cleaner with the tank full -- the tank that holds the used water well--ewww--can you say "mud," we must be some dirty folks.
  • Water that comes in from the outside smells "ewwww"--like ammonia.
  • Lots of people give advice, but no one offers to help. (Except my mama.)
  • A shelf made of particle board disintegrates when wet, therefore spewing books and CD's all over the floor.
  • A wet vac will pick up more dirt than my Hoover vacuum.
  • When the main living room of the house is out of order the rest of the house gets wrecked proportionately by three bored young'ns.
  • I'm stalling so I don't have to work....
Hmmmmm....well...alright I'm putting off the inevitable. Back to work to the task at hand. All of my furniture is piled up in one corner of the den.

Really, I'm too old for this.


Around 5:00 p.m. I called J****'s coworker to find out when they would be home; the girls had dance class and the son was not feeling well so I wanted him to stay with the son while I took carpet cleaner back to rental place and took care of girls. CoWorker told me that they stopped working at 1:00pm and he dropped J**** off downtown.

I called the pool hall and "Shaggy" (his nickname) was there shooting pool. I yelled at him and told him that I had been working my ass off all day, hurt my back, doing things that were his responsibility and he disgusted me. He is home, he is sober, and he is in bed pouting. Right now he makes me SICK.

Friday, September 22, 2006

So what really happened...

1) What Happened Monday Night --

Monday, September 18, 2006

It was raining and J**** had to be at court at 9:00 to "show cause" on the payment of his DUI fine. He had $300 to post to the fine and needed to be at the court house early to deliver the payment. I had some errands to run in town also. So I told him I'd drop him off at the court house. I dropped him off at 8:15 and he said he was hungry so I gave him a twenty (all I had on me) and he said he would go across the street to a greasy spoon for biscuits and gravy.

I ran my errands and went to work. Finally heard from him around lunch time. Sounded to me like he had already been drinking but he said that he was still waiting for the judge to see him. He said that the judge was giving people 90 more days to pay the rest of their fine.

After work, I picked up the kids and went to get my Father-in-law to take him to pick up his car that was in for repairs. This would end up being a two and a half hour adventure. Suffice to say -- car wasn't fixed, he was mad, and kids were very restless.

When we got home, I still had not heard from J****, I fed kids, helped F**** with her homework and the phone rings, it is J****. "I'm walking down mainstreet and coming home." I say, "Where have you been? What did the judge say?" J - "Whatever you fucking bitch -- I'll see you." He hangs up. Phone rings again, "Fuck You, Fuck You, Bitch." I don't remember how many more times this happens, until he gets home. But it was annoying. During this time he also hits wrong button and calls Sis and she tells him "Do you know who this is?" Click.

I forewarn the children -- Daddy's been drinking, ignore him, do not argue with him, just finish what you are doing because it is almost bedtime. F**** says, "he always tries to fight with me when he's been drinking mama."

7:45 pm -- In the door he comes. Mental picture -- It has been raining. Pants hanging half way down his ass, fly unzipped, and one shoe gone. Where in the world or how in the world he lost his shoe befuddles me.

I act like nothing is wrong with him, "Hello, uh, ummm, where's your shoe?" J-"What the fuck do you care?" He disappears down the stairs to pee. He returns, J - "Where the hell have you been?" I remind him about having to take care of his father and told him I had left him a voicemail to that affect. J-"Now I'm really mad." Not sure why he is mad, mad because his dad's car is still in need of more repair or mad because I gave his dad a ride but didn't come and pick him up while he was walking in the rain. Oh well. He goes into other room looking for his other shoe.

He returns, J-"Hey baby." wants to hug me and kiss me. I have my hands full of supper dishes and tell him to hang on a sec. I go to table and help F**** spell a word. J**** sits down beside F**** and begins asking her what she is doing and "helping" her think of words. F-"Daddy, leave me alone you've been drinking." He picks up the boy and wrestles him, sits him down, boy retreats. He starts picking on G*****, who thinks this attention is grand. I start getting stuff ready for bed. G***** is having fun, F**** comes over feeling left out and Daddy starts wrestling her, but too rough. Has her on tile floor, next day F**** has a bruise on her arm.

I get her up and stand between her and her Daddy and tell her F**** it is time to go to bed. She runs around me and up the stairs, turns and looks. J**** has grabbed my legs, "Woman, you want to wrestle." I respond, "Not right now, it's time to put the babies to bed." I turn and get all that I need and he says "Bitch." his fist is clinched. He doesn't say why he is angry. Again "Bitch, Fucking Bitch" I say his name softly, "J****" "Bitch" "J**** honey, I need to put the babies to bed." He is blocking my way. "Don't talk to me, you Fucking Bitch." F**** is still watching. I look into her eyes. I point for her to go to her room, she is frozen. He reaches his arm behind my head and grabs my hair and pulls me backward. He raises his fist. F**** screams, Mooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyy" That was the longest moment in my life hearing my baby scream. Then "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddyyyyyyyy" "Stttoooooooooooooopppppppppp." "Don't hurt my Mommy."

An aside now -- I was raised in an alcoholic home and am personally not afraid of a drunk. In fact, sad to say I believe I can handle an angry or crazed drunk better than an angry or crazed sober individual. Back to the scene:

I reach up and put his face between my hands and force him to look into my eyes. ( I believe we are in a blackout.) "J****, this is your wife, I love you. J****, stop what you are doing. J****, your babies are watching you." A look of realization comes to his eyes. He lets go and goes outside to smoke.

I put all three babies in my bed. Note: G***** did not see this event. The Boy was running around being a boy. F**** was terrified. By the way -- since this episode I have had myself and three babies in my bed everynight. They are still afraid.

A minute later I hear him coming up the stairs. I tell them let's play a game, pretend to be asleep and see how quiet we can be. In the room comes Daddy. I am sitting up holding the Boy on my shoulder rocking him to sleep. J-"Where's my cigarettes?" Me-"I don't know." J-"I need some cigarettes." Me-"When I get the babies to sleep I'll go and get you some cigarettes." His face changed. "That's not good enough you Fucking Bitch." He reached out and put his right hand around my neck, I put the boy on the bed beside of F****, they are all three watching. "I need cigarettes." Me-"Okay, I'll get you some in a minute, go back downstairs so I can get them to sleep." He now places his left hand around my neck." "Fucking Bitch, I'm gonna kill you, kill you, you hear me. That's what I'm gonna do, yeah, you'd better not go to sleep, I'm gonna kill your ass." "You just wait Bitch." His hands are still around my neck. I move my hand up to my neck and work my fingers beneath his thumbs and again look him straight in the eye. Me-"J**** you need to stop. J**** go downstairs! J**** do you see what you are doing?" "J**** NOW!!!" His hands drop to his side, he has a look of fear in his eyes. "Just, I need cigarettes." He goes outside.

Babies are scared. G***** keeps repeating, "Mommy, Daddy says he's going to kill you." I call my sister as I posted earlier. I call my father-in-law to tell him to not call (he was going to call). Things are quiet downstairs. I look at them. they are scared. and remember back to times like this from my childhood. What did I want my mama to do? I wanted her to get us the hell out of there. So that is what we planned together.

I sneak downstairs and he is outside passed out. Thankfully -- I'm not good at putting away laundry. So I grab clothes baskets, backpacks, shoes, etc that they would need for the next day and place it all next to the door. I'm about to make a trip downstairs again and he comes in the house. "What are you doing?" "Nothing had to pee -- I'll be down in a minute." He follows me upstairs and kind of looks around the room. Says "Hmmmmph." Goes back downstairs. Girls want to know if we are leaving. I tell them -- in a minute when I know he's not going to come upstairs. I wait a while, tell them to be real quiet, and go check. He is passed out on the loveseat in the den.

I go upstairs and get babies down to the front door - F**** bumps into door and makes noise--we giggle that little afraid giggle. Everyone has something to carry and I send them to the van. They are in the van. I go back and get the clothes baskets, lock the front door and away we go.

He calls my cell phone -- several times -- NO, I did not answer. (around midnight.)

He calls next morning and says he doesn't remember anything. He had been at the local pool hall, walked across the street to buy whiskey, and drank all day.

The rest is history.

Today he is pouting and telling me that I hate him. I don't hate him, but I feel betrayed, afraid, angry, and very, very, tired and done.

There are no excuses left for me or for him.


2) My Sister

Go read her blog it is crazy everywhere. http://a-real-live-soap-opera/

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I Need to Thank a Lot of Folks

Thank you to my sister:

She says she feels ugly, but believe me folks, my sister is the most beautiful person I know. Except for maybe me.

I say this because, she is there for me. She doesn't pass judgment on me. She understands me. She tolerates me (not an easy job).

The reason I am saying this is because of last night.

Honestly, if you got a call at 8:45 pm that said: "Hey, can you hear me? I'm whispering. Yeah, he's drunk. Sis, he put his hands on me for the first time. I didn't fight back. The kids were watching. When we get a chance, we are leaving. Where? Up to your house I guess. You sure. Okay. I haven't decided yet. If you don't hear from me then all is well. I have the phone set so if I hit a button it will call you if there's trouble. I love you too. Thank you." what would you do?

Well if you are my sister, you drop everything and get ready for your sister, a 6 year old, a 5 year old, and a toddler. You put your problems on hold and open your heart and your door to these scared babies and their idiot mother. I think she loves us.

Thank you to wonderful school teachers and counselors:

F**** is in 1st Grade, and G**** is in Kindergarten. School has been in session now for approximately one and a half months. How many kindergarteners do you know who have already had meetings with the school counselor over her feelings? First episode, cute. Second episode, not so cute.

First episode she wanted to talk to speak to her counselor because she was sad that her Papaw J*** had died. She told the counselor that Papaw fell into the river and was killed by a shark. Well Papaw was 99+ and died in his sleep of a massive heart attack in the hospital.

Second episode was to talk about being scared. "Daddy acts scary sometimes." "He hurts Mommy's feelings."

Everyday first grade has a share time and they tell what they did the night before. F**** wanted to tell her class about last night. I told her she could tell the other kids she stayed the night at Aunt D's but not to tell the rest it may scare them. But, it is okay if she tells her teacher or her counselor. (sweet girl.)

Thank you to a feisty, caring mother-in-law:

I was torn about whether I should call her and tell her what was happening, she has so many tribulations in her life as it is. But I made the decision to forewarn her. I told her I was calling her to let her know that the girls and I were okay and where we were going. I told her the only reason I was calling was to forewarn her that if he woke up and saw we were gone and decided to call her, she could make her own decision about answering the phone.

She appreciated me calling. The next morning she called and couldn't reach me, I called her back to her relief and she cried. She told me she was worried and that she was so mad at him she could spit in his face, especially after the things that he had seen his father do to her. She told me to do whatever I needed to do to keep her grandbabies safe and she would understand.

Thank you to my coworkers:

When you are going through a lot of crazy stuff at home, sometimes it makes you crazy at work. And sometimes like today, you leave early, because you want to pick your babies up at school to let them feel safe. They tolerate me and are patient with me and know that I will do what I need to do -- first for my children, then for myself. They try not to be judgmental, but they know that I will accept their constructive input. I am blessed to have them cover for me when I am less than sane.

Thank you to my children:

They are bearing the brunt of my "wishy-washy" ways. F**** told the counselor that it was a scary night, she was afraid because of what he said he would do to her Mommy, she is scared. The counselor told her when Mommy and Daddy fight she needs to go to another room so Mommy doesn't have to worry about her and sometimes children don't need to see/hear what Mommy/Daddy are fighting about. Can you do that? She said, "NO, what if he hurts my Mommy."

I am thankful that they love their Mommy and worry about me. They shouldn't have to be in such a situation.

Thank you to my God:

For my strength and sanity. I do NOT worry. To worry is to lack faith. "I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me."

and Thank you to J****:

If he hadn't done the things he had done last night to the extreme that he did. I would not have been jolted back to reality. He reminded me of why I started divorce proceedings in the first place. I know it's strange to thank him, but all things happen for a reason. Right?

Monday, September 11, 2006

I Remember a Bad Day turned Good

For the world today is a day to remember. To remember the atrocities that happened five years ago today.
Where were you?
I was at work, and 8 months pregnant with G*****.

A coworker came to my desk and said did you hear what happened. I went to the breakroom and we were all in shock at what we saw before our eyes. Our receptionist, a small African American lady, very religious, very composed, and very misunderstood by many of our coworkers, came into the room, looked at the scene and burst into tears. We had to isolate her to calm her down and she prayed. I think we all prayed that day.
I immediately returned to my desk and called home to see if J**** had seen the news. He was working third shift at that time. He said that he had. I then called my mother and asked her if all was okay with her and my 16 month old daughter. All was well, they too were in shock.

I kept working and monitoring the news. Around the lunch hour, I began feeling very weak and very nauseated. I went to my boss who looked at me and told me I did not look well. I told him, I didn't as
k him, "I'm going to get my baby, go home to my husband, and hold them all." Unfortunately 3,000 or so people that day did not get to do the same.

On the ride home, the road was empty. The rolling acreage and the horse farms seemed surreal as the images of the attack were fresh in my head. Thoughts that we are in Kentucky, what would they consider to attack in my home state: Fort Knox; a major army arsenal very near here; there's an international airport in Louisville; I work for the government. You begin to think of people you work with that are of Arabic descent and wonder. Yes, it is stereotyping, but this is what terrorism will do to you. I saw a military convoy and wondered where they could be headed. It was a long drive that day to feel safe with my baby in my arms.

When it was time for J**** to leave for work, I begged him to please stay home tonight. He reassured me that all with us would be well, we are safe, the terrorists would strike only large targets. I told him honey, I understand that, but I don't feel well, something isn't right. He told me that his coworker had his cell phone with him and he had his beeper if I needed him for anything.

F**** and I went to bed shortly after he left but I still did not feel well. I puttered around and called my mom and told her Mama, I don't feel right would you please come and stay with me. She asked me what is wrong? I told her, Mama I think that I am in labor. G***** wasn't due until October 1, Mama told me to go to bed. So, I called my Mother-in-law and told her the same thing. She and her husband immediately left and came to our home. A while later Mama showed up.

To make a long story short, I was in labor.

We tried to contact J**** but because of the massive use of phone systems his beeper wouldn't work and his coworker's cell wouldn't work. I called my niece and she went looking for him at the job site. J**** had left for a lunch break and she found the security guard, who told J**** that his wife was in labor. Immediately he came home.

Mama took F**** home with her.

When J**** got home my labor wasn't active enough to go to the hospital. We all laid down for some rest. I couldn't sleep, got up and went to the bathroom and noticed something odd. I woke my mother-in-law, we called the hospital and prepared to leave. As we were headed for the door, my water broke. My lovely Mother-in-law grabbed the nearest thing to stop the water from destroying the carpet, her husband's jacket. Paw just shook his head. He followed us and got to the door, patted his shirt pocket and said, "Woman, where's my cigarettes?" They had been in that jacket. Needless to say, they stopped on the way to the hospital and bought him some cigarettes.

At the hospital in the delivery room the nurse turned on the television. We watched the coverage of the day's events. Her son lived near the towers and she had not heard from him. She was worried.

On September 12 after the smoke had cleared I pushed. On all ultrasounds taken we could never tell if she was a girl or a boy. All were convinced she was a he. I pushed some more and then the midwife yelled, "STOP." The cord was wrapped tightly around her neck. She told J**** "Sorry son, you won't be cutting this cord." She immediately began to push G***** back into the birth canal to lessen the tension on the cord. As soon as she could get her fingers between the cord and my baby's throat she cut the cord and yelled "PUSH, PUSH HARD." Out she came, and the midwife announced "you have a baby girl." A bruised, battle scarred baby girl.

I didn't get to hold her, they took her straight to the cleanup table and began measuring, weighing and cleaning her up. Next thing I know the nurses are arguing and one nurse grabs a blanket, swaddles my baby, and tells the other nurse, "Screw the rules, I'm taking her to the nursery now." Out ran the nurse with my baby, the other nurses followed, the midwife ran out, my husband ran, everyone left me and my mother alone in the room. I looked at Mama and said, "what happened to my baby." Mama patted me and said, "I don't know baby, but they will take care of her." A minute or two later the midwife returned and told me that I wasn't done, I needed to push again to finish the birth process.

After I was finished she told me that G*****'s temperature dropped dramatically and they had to take her to the nursery to warm her and give her oxygen. J**** came back in the room upset because they wouldn't let him see her or follow them into the room.

Because of the anesthesia I couldn't move, I told him, please go and watch out for our baby. G***** was born at 1:20pm I didn't get to see her until around 6:00 when they finally let her daddy know that all is well.

J**** came to the delivery room, yes, I was still in that room with my mama beside of me. J**** picked me up and placed me in a wheelchair and said, come on, no matter what, we are going to see our baby. She was and still is beautiful.

5 years ago on this fateful day, I went into active labor at 11:30 pm and bore one of the three joys in my life. She is amazing and she had a rough start. 20 inches, 7 pounds 9 ounces, blonde hair, and blue eyes.
I remember this day with sadness and joy. I remember the terrorist attack. I remember the love and care J**** showed me during this time.

While recuperating in the days following the attacks and her birth, I heard a news story about a record number of births in the US were recorded. Evidently the magnitude of the event caused many of us to go into early labor. I am amazed that with all the death and destruction, the Lord gave us the gift of new life in abundance during this time of grief.

I pray for her and this country every night and I remember. Both this country and my little girl had close calls on that day. I believe my little girl is stronger, I believe this country is stronger.

God bless my little girl and this wonderful country.

Friday, September 08, 2006

To you all my friends

I really appreciate all of your comments to my posts. They give me insight from an "outside looking in" view.

We've been over my hangups in this blog many times - so to repeat them would be an effort in futility.

Dana -- as you say about your ex. "I love him more than oxygen."

When he is on his best behaviour I am in heaven. Right now -- he IS on his best behaviour. Times like this I grab with gusto and like an alcoholic with an addiction, I want more. More of his conversation, more of his intimacy, more of those bad boy green eyes, more of watching him with our kids, more, more, more. I fear, yes, I know it will not last forever, but for now, I need it. We are a happy family in a very messy house - FOR NOW.

I am crying as I write this post. I feel I am letting you my readers and especially my family down, by not saying hey rectum. Leave!!!!

Sister tells mama how strong I am -- I'm not that strong, I am scared and grasping.

Funny aside: The other day, I referred to J**** as rectum, and then referred to my niece's husband as rectum. My sister and niece were present. My sister commented, sigh "I have no rectum." My dry sense of humor (inherited from daddy): "Well, no wonder you are so full of shit." Ka Boom Ching. Yeah, Yeah you had to be there. Hey I made her laugh -- a good thing.

I love you all and thank you so much for your support and your PATIENCE with me.

A lesson to be learned from a horrible thing...

There is a young man that our family knows. He did an unthinkable, horrible thing. He is messed up on drugs very, very, bad. This is definitively NO EXCUSE for his horrible act. He is at least 6 foot 2 and weighs a good 300 pounds in his early to mid 20's. Whacked out on drugs he brutally beat and repeatedly raped an eight year old girl. I don't know if she lived or what her physical condition may be at this time. I've heard of the types of wounds and I cry each time I think of her frail body and this large man.

This man (I use the term as a gender indicator and nothing else) has been in my home. This man was at a family member's home this past weekend. As a teenager he would come to my home each night "just in time" for supper and would talk to me and hug me each time when he left,like a starved child grasping for peace in our "safe" home.

He, from what I understand was sexually abused as a child.

Please everyone -- you can NEVER be too careful about who you allow around your children. Your peers are their peers. Thank God we have gotten away from many of those peers.

Hug them tightly and thank GOD for them every chance you get. Keep a watchful eye as our Lord keeps a watchful eye over you and me. Please keep her in your prayers.



My mother in law told me the other day that my speech pattern was a sign of someone who had at some point had a stroke. Well, now every pain, every twinge, every mispronounced word or phrase makes me wonder. -- Sister will laugh -- because her son and I are similar and yes Sis -- I too have all of the symptoms of sarcoidosis.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Open Letter to My Sister's Family

A shame I have to add stuff to this right before Christmas because of nosy assed people trying to make trouble.

But ... if you want to get petty and ruin people's Christmas then you have a problem. Take it like adults and start your own blog. If you are so bored that it requires you making trouble then you need to grow up and get out of my business.

I'm almost 40 and don't need to hear your bitchin' and moanin' I can muster up enough of it on my own.


I deleted this post -- because all of the parties involved have read the post and it has served its purpose. I cannot apologize for the truth, but I do apologize at my lack of tact in presenting the truth.

I love you all.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Sick Today

Stayed home from work today, cause I don't feel well. My throat is aching and my head is stuffy. What a way to start a holiday weekend.

I thought cool, yea!!! -- kids are at school, all I've got to deal with is me and my grouchy baby boy.

No such luck -- as everytime that I try to get a little rest and peace for myself. He stays home too. Spying on me, blaming it on the fact that it may rain today. He's full of poop.

Funny -- my dad instead of calling J**** asshole calls him rectum. Hey, what is "rectum" doing today. Sounds so "ewwwwwww."

I did get some stuff accomplished. No rest. I said, J**** since you are home, please watch D***** so I can take a nap." "But I was going to take a nap."

If I have told him once in the last few days, I've told him forty times -- please, just give up and leave. Leave us alone. "But, I love you." "I HATE YOU." "But, I love you and baby hate is such a strong word." "GO AWAY." I did get all financial stuff out of his name today -- progress.

I am so sick of him and he's sober. I'm just tired and resentful and he's not going to do a daggone thing for this family. He's a friggin' parasite and I'm sick of it.

Still smokeless -- still grumpy -- and close to needing a padded room.

I want a break, just one weekend -- no kids, no husband. Just me and my space, my home to do stuff I want to do, paint, yard work, etc without interruptions. But, no.

By the way -- one 21 month old boy can destroy a 2000 sq foot home in 21 minutes.

In the time it has taken to type this post -- he has taken all folded laundry and thrown in the floor, spilled a bowl of fruit loops, milk and all in kitchen floor, attempted to empty book shelf, and yes -- I've spanked him which he completely ignores.

I must go now and mop -- where is Super Nanny when you need her?