2: Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
How am I to tackle this one? A few people had told me that it would be easier for me to find my higher power because I didn't have any spiritual upbringing. I didn't understand them then, but I get it now. I didn't have any preconceived notions that I would have to change.
So I decided to dissect this step and do some research.
I already knew what "Came to believe" meant. 'That a power greater than ourselves..." whoa, gotta stop there. Sure, there has to be something there. After all, it's clear that the human race has always needed to believe there was something larger than life. Without this belief, than what was the point to life?
Then, everyone couldn't believe in the same "GOD" or even agree on the same values. Thus, we have a myriad of religions that are so different, its hard to believe that they could all possibly stem from one single Higher Power. But who or what then? I set to looking into different religions. Native Americans believe in the Great Spirit. Which is something like what I have always believed it. Comparable to Buddhism. At least what I get outta it. There is no way I could possibly swallow Catholic. I didn't even try. I use the excuse, "I'm catholic", when I'm trying to get outta something. lol
On to Baptist and so on... I tried swallowing that to no avail. (I even chewed good) But I still choked and every so often threw up. LMAO I crack myself up!!
I didn't even try Pagan and the like.
So that left me with a better understanding of what I am not.
I decided that it must be a God of my understanding. Just as I was told in the beginning. But of course I had to complicate it. Though I needed to because I didn't even have an understanding to begin with. I'm not sure that my G.O.D. fits into any category. But at last it is mine.
Continuing. .....
"could restore us to sanity." I continued to dissect this.
Was I insane? I thought of insane as crazy. Unfixable, needing meds. Like silence of the lambs nuts. But.... I got some definitions that helped me better understand this.
Insane- mentally disordered, absurd
Insanity- deranged state of mind, unsoundness of mind, lack of understanding
Sane- rational, having understanding, mentally sound
Restore- give back, put again in possession of something. (G.O.D?)
Looking at these terms in a new light. I know I have that insanity. My thinking is absurd. Knowing what alcohol does to me. And still looking to the bottle for answers. Thats insane!
I believe that there is something out there that gives us this beautiful world. My G.O.D can do better at managing my life and affairs than I can. After all, it was my best thinking and intentions that got me here. My G.O.D can restore order, understanding, purpose, and peace of mind.
I use an acronym, so as not to confuse you. Well it won't confuse AA's. The rest of you perhaps.
I use the term G O D loosely. A common acronym for Good Orderly Direction. Which is a Higher Power of my understanding. Not to be confused with the God that is commonly worshiped in religion. Anything that is higher than me and that restores sanity to my life is my Good Orderly Direction, or G.O.D for short, for lack of a label.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Damons 10th Birthday
Damons b-day was tuesday. I have been pretty strapped on cash here lately. Usually decorate the house and buy a cake and try to get some special gifts for the kids on their birthdays. But, I just couldn't do that this year. I've been totally sweating it for the last month or so.
Well, I told him that I wouldn't be able to get him anything for his birthday, at least not like normal. So I told him to pick something he really wanted. He ran through the usual list; four wheeler, horse, dirt bike, a new guitar hero, rockband.... and on and on. He finally decided he wanted his ears pierced. Well by golly! I can do that!
We went to get his ears done and he decided it was too much for him to go through. Plan 2....
I let him pick out what kinda cake mix and frosting he wanted. We stopped at Blockbuster and there was a table of discounted Movie based toys. He picked out a Batman glove that he wanted. I told him I'd get it for his b-day. And thats what he got.
On tuesday, he got home from school and played outside. I knew he was sad and trying to avoid coming in the house. The house wasn't decorated when he got off the bus. I made his cake while he was out playing. I let him decorate it. Then I took his blanket and wrapped a little hand held fan I found for him in it. I hoped he would like it. You could program words into it that you could see when fan was running (some kinda laser light trick). He loved it and thought it was all he got. He played with it intently trying to enjoy his only gift on his big double digit day.
I wrapped the batman gloves in the same blanket and sat it beside him. He didn't realize that I had and when he grabbed his blanket to cover up, the gloves fell on the floor. He tripped!!! I could see the pure joy on his face, that he had got what he wanted. So we sat until bedtime and played with his new things.
All these years spending money and having parties...............
I think this may have been the best b-day for him. He might tell you different, but I could feel the simple appreciation and gratitude in those two simple items that cost me ten bucks.
Well, I told him that I wouldn't be able to get him anything for his birthday, at least not like normal. So I told him to pick something he really wanted. He ran through the usual list; four wheeler, horse, dirt bike, a new guitar hero, rockband.... and on and on. He finally decided he wanted his ears pierced. Well by golly! I can do that!
We went to get his ears done and he decided it was too much for him to go through. Plan 2....
I let him pick out what kinda cake mix and frosting he wanted. We stopped at Blockbuster and there was a table of discounted Movie based toys. He picked out a Batman glove that he wanted. I told him I'd get it for his b-day. And thats what he got.
On tuesday, he got home from school and played outside. I knew he was sad and trying to avoid coming in the house. The house wasn't decorated when he got off the bus. I made his cake while he was out playing. I let him decorate it. Then I took his blanket and wrapped a little hand held fan I found for him in it. I hoped he would like it. You could program words into it that you could see when fan was running (some kinda laser light trick). He loved it and thought it was all he got. He played with it intently trying to enjoy his only gift on his big double digit day.
I wrapped the batman gloves in the same blanket and sat it beside him. He didn't realize that I had and when he grabbed his blanket to cover up, the gloves fell on the floor. He tripped!!! I could see the pure joy on his face, that he had got what he wanted. So we sat until bedtime and played with his new things.
All these years spending money and having parties...............
I think this may have been the best b-day for him. He might tell you different, but I could feel the simple appreciation and gratitude in those two simple items that cost me ten bucks.
My first step.......
Step one. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and our lives had become unmanageable.
How I know I am powerless
The thought of drinking creeps into my head while doing other things that require me to be sober.
I have caught myself planning when I would be able to drink.
I have chosen beer over family, friends.......well, everything really.
I cannot stop with one or two.
Drinking has caused almost all of my current problems.
I do things that are very unbecoming of me when I am drunk, things I would never do sober.
I have blackouts.
Sometimes the beer isn't even enough anymore.
How my life has become unmanageable
Instead of doing
-housework
-childrens activities
-home repairs
-anything.....I drink.
i have forgotten anything that ever made me happy.
I don't know what I am interested in.
Beer had become my friend, my hobby, my focal point.
I shut out my friends and family.
I don't know what to do when I'm not drinking, BUT I dont do anything when I do drink.
I have become a wreck, my mind, my body, my house, my life, my family
I stay away from places where I have to be sober.
I do not like who I've become inside or outside.
This is how my life is unmanageable and how I am powerless over alcohol.
On to step 2...
How I know I am powerless
The thought of drinking creeps into my head while doing other things that require me to be sober.
I have caught myself planning when I would be able to drink.
I have chosen beer over family, friends.......well, everything really.
I cannot stop with one or two.
Drinking has caused almost all of my current problems.
I do things that are very unbecoming of me when I am drunk, things I would never do sober.
I have blackouts.
Sometimes the beer isn't even enough anymore.
How my life has become unmanageable
Instead of doing
-housework
-childrens activities
-home repairs
-anything.....I drink.
i have forgotten anything that ever made me happy.
I don't know what I am interested in.
Beer had become my friend, my hobby, my focal point.
I shut out my friends and family.
I don't know what to do when I'm not drinking, BUT I dont do anything when I do drink.
I have become a wreck, my mind, my body, my house, my life, my family
I stay away from places where I have to be sober.
I do not like who I've become inside or outside.
This is how my life is unmanageable and how I am powerless over alcohol.
On to step 2...
Thursday, September 4, 2008
An alcoholic in the making
I want to take some time to run through my life. If it bores you, sorry. If it amazes you....well I doubt it.
I don't ever remember seeing my dad without a beer in his hand. He was always drunk and surrounded himself with drunks. I was daddy's girl so I was always with him. When we were home, he was always making something. He was very talented. Beer in hand. In my mind, beer obviously didn't limit your abilities.
When we were out and about, we were mostly at bars. Sometimes his friends house. I fondly remember The Red Horse, Huppy's West Lodi (used to be Pops) the Old Oaken Bucket, and various clubs. Seemed like all his drinking buddies and even the bartenders were happy to see him and me too. It was always "there's Frankies girl" or "Shultzies girl". I had all the pop, chips or whatever goodies I wanted. I played pinball and pool, and darts while dad drank. The ride home was often scary though. From one side in the ditch to the other down those narrow country roads. I just hoped we would get home safe. That never stopped me from going though. I loved the bar atmosphere. The smells, sounds, lighting, mood. It felt better than home to me, and still does.
I don't remember my first drink. Or my first drunk. I honestly don't.
Dad eventually died. I was 11. He was 57. I still don't remember, but I'm pretty sure I finished his case of beer one by one.
When I was a teen, or maybe 12, who knows? I remember sneaking liquor into the shopping cart when out with mom. I did that often. My friends and I would sit outside or in my room and mix drinks. I still don't remember even getting tipsy from that. I already had a high tolerance for alcohol.
I was setting myself up for a lousy life. Most of those friends have moved on to a "wonderful" life that didn't involve addiction. I just thought it was the cool thing to do. The grown up thing. I often went out driving and doing illegal shit after these drinking episodes.
Dad also had lots of homemade wine in the cellar. And I finished all that too. All but the dandelion wine. That shit was nasty. He could make wine outta anything.
I know I must have been 14 or 15 when I started going to a neighboring town and staying with people. Getting drunk. One person in particular was 30 or maybe a little older. I think he just enjoyed my company, and I liked that he would let me crash there at night. I stayed pretty much every weekend. Get up in the morning, go find something or someone to do all day and go back there to get drunk and sleep.d He never tried anything with me. Looking back now, he was more than a little wierd though. And he's in prison for some sex crime involving young girls, so I lucked out on that i guess.
I think I got high the first time when I was 17 or so. That was my new drug of choice. I did a lot of smoking. Only at night though. One day I thought, man wouldn't it be cool to go somewhere high? So we went to the beach. It was cool! Soon I was smoking when I got up and all day long.
When I moved into the place I live now, about ten years ago, I was working at a place where drugs and drinking were a way of life. My boyfriend at the time lived with me and we liked to go to the bar on the weekend. I never could drink too much before I was done. Twenty bucks would last both he and I the whole night.
In 2000, a friend of mine died from a life of drinking and drugs. It was a rather painful experience for me. She was wanted by the law and hiding out. At my house of course. So when she went to the hospital and I spent hours there every day for two weeks. She slipped into a coma and soon the doctor was telling me it was time to pull the plug, so I did. I promised her that day, while she lay in my embrace dying, I would drink a beer for her everyday. Stupid? Yes, but....
So I did. One was enough for me then. Soon I was getting two on way home. Then I realized that the twenty four ouncers were a better buy, so I got those instead. It occured to me sometime at around this time that a six or twelve was an even better deal and I could keep it in the fridge.
I also remember thinking, I needed to build up my tolerance to keep up with my friends. They could all drink more than me and I didn't like being called a light weight. Stupid again, huh?
Well, it worked. I've become a seasoned drinker.
It has become a daily event. Leading to dysfunction and chaos in my life. Eventually leading to trouble with the law and children services.
Now I'm on the path to recovery. It's definately hard. And being sober is definatley a new experience. I'm looking over my life and I realize that I don't remember most of it. My childhood is blocked because it was painful. My twenties are drowned in an ocean of beer and drugs. I'm hoping I can make something outta my thirties.
I have a feeling it will be hard. Afterall, I sobered up and realized I'm still stuck mentally in the past and physically, my body is tore up from the floor up. I'm a hot damn mess! No hobbies, no anything really....
Drinking had become my hobby and my life.
It is truly cunning, baffling, and powerful.
I don't ever remember seeing my dad without a beer in his hand. He was always drunk and surrounded himself with drunks. I was daddy's girl so I was always with him. When we were home, he was always making something. He was very talented. Beer in hand. In my mind, beer obviously didn't limit your abilities.
When we were out and about, we were mostly at bars. Sometimes his friends house. I fondly remember The Red Horse, Huppy's West Lodi (used to be Pops) the Old Oaken Bucket, and various clubs. Seemed like all his drinking buddies and even the bartenders were happy to see him and me too. It was always "there's Frankies girl" or "Shultzies girl". I had all the pop, chips or whatever goodies I wanted. I played pinball and pool, and darts while dad drank. The ride home was often scary though. From one side in the ditch to the other down those narrow country roads. I just hoped we would get home safe. That never stopped me from going though. I loved the bar atmosphere. The smells, sounds, lighting, mood. It felt better than home to me, and still does.
I don't remember my first drink. Or my first drunk. I honestly don't.
Dad eventually died. I was 11. He was 57. I still don't remember, but I'm pretty sure I finished his case of beer one by one.
When I was a teen, or maybe 12, who knows? I remember sneaking liquor into the shopping cart when out with mom. I did that often. My friends and I would sit outside or in my room and mix drinks. I still don't remember even getting tipsy from that. I already had a high tolerance for alcohol.
I was setting myself up for a lousy life. Most of those friends have moved on to a "wonderful" life that didn't involve addiction. I just thought it was the cool thing to do. The grown up thing. I often went out driving and doing illegal shit after these drinking episodes.
Dad also had lots of homemade wine in the cellar. And I finished all that too. All but the dandelion wine. That shit was nasty. He could make wine outta anything.
I know I must have been 14 or 15 when I started going to a neighboring town and staying with people. Getting drunk. One person in particular was 30 or maybe a little older. I think he just enjoyed my company, and I liked that he would let me crash there at night. I stayed pretty much every weekend. Get up in the morning, go find something or someone to do all day and go back there to get drunk and sleep.d He never tried anything with me. Looking back now, he was more than a little wierd though. And he's in prison for some sex crime involving young girls, so I lucked out on that i guess.
I think I got high the first time when I was 17 or so. That was my new drug of choice. I did a lot of smoking. Only at night though. One day I thought, man wouldn't it be cool to go somewhere high? So we went to the beach. It was cool! Soon I was smoking when I got up and all day long.
When I moved into the place I live now, about ten years ago, I was working at a place where drugs and drinking were a way of life. My boyfriend at the time lived with me and we liked to go to the bar on the weekend. I never could drink too much before I was done. Twenty bucks would last both he and I the whole night.
In 2000, a friend of mine died from a life of drinking and drugs. It was a rather painful experience for me. She was wanted by the law and hiding out. At my house of course. So when she went to the hospital and I spent hours there every day for two weeks. She slipped into a coma and soon the doctor was telling me it was time to pull the plug, so I did. I promised her that day, while she lay in my embrace dying, I would drink a beer for her everyday. Stupid? Yes, but....
So I did. One was enough for me then. Soon I was getting two on way home. Then I realized that the twenty four ouncers were a better buy, so I got those instead. It occured to me sometime at around this time that a six or twelve was an even better deal and I could keep it in the fridge.
I also remember thinking, I needed to build up my tolerance to keep up with my friends. They could all drink more than me and I didn't like being called a light weight. Stupid again, huh?
Well, it worked. I've become a seasoned drinker.
It has become a daily event. Leading to dysfunction and chaos in my life. Eventually leading to trouble with the law and children services.
Now I'm on the path to recovery. It's definately hard. And being sober is definatley a new experience. I'm looking over my life and I realize that I don't remember most of it. My childhood is blocked because it was painful. My twenties are drowned in an ocean of beer and drugs. I'm hoping I can make something outta my thirties.
I have a feeling it will be hard. Afterall, I sobered up and realized I'm still stuck mentally in the past and physically, my body is tore up from the floor up. I'm a hot damn mess! No hobbies, no anything really....
Drinking had become my hobby and my life.
It is truly cunning, baffling, and powerful.
Stupid is as Stupid does...
I'm going to try to remember some of the things I've done while drunk or high. Only to remind me of where I've been. I'm sure this is a short list. There is no way possible to remember everything I've done.
Where to start?
*While working at "the camp" I went out at lunch time and smoked a fattie with some co-workers. I spent the next two hours working without realizing I had a rather large bud stuck to my shirt. Nobody noticed?
*I know of countless times I should of been pulled over but wasn't. Four (that I remember) times I was pulled over, completely shit faced and PASSED the breathalyzer. How? I don't know...
*Most the time when I got drunk, I got crazy ideas in my head. Like getting drugs, or looting abandoned houses. Most certainly driving. I drove crazy...... speeding, reckless, I should have been dead. Thank God I didn't kill anyone.
Um what else?
*Ditching my car and walking home, 12 pack I went to get in hand. Finishing that and taking my totaled car back to the store to get more beer. The radiator was busted so I ran outta antifreeze on the way home. Called my 14 year old stepson to come tow me home.
*My first time drinking Wild Irish Rose. I was still living at home. My sister was living there too. We went into town and saw one of my "friends" walking. Ended up buying us some W.I.R. and he went home with me. I drank so much I felt sick. I don't remember if I threw up or not, I just wanted to sleep. I remember him trying to work my pants down and well.... I kept rolling over and trying to sleep. He kept trying. Never successful, and I never spoke to him again. I swore off that shit. The smell of it makes me sick.
*My first time trying Tequila. I was up at this 30 yr. old's house, I was probably between 14-16. His neighbor across the hall was someone I knew also. I was already drunk on beer and started drinking the Tequila. Wooo Doggie!! Never again on that stuff either! I spent the night on his cool bathroom tile. Taking turns sleeping and puking my guts out. I woke up several times on the rim of the toilet. Yuck! Never, and I repeat, NEVER get that drunk at a bachelors house again! The toilet is enough to make you sick without the alcohol!
The alcohol is not the problem folks! It's all these damn other people! Really, I think... ( i know it's me and this disease)
Most often I set out to get drunk. I usually didn't tell myself I could have a few. When I do set out to have a few, it never ends with me saying "ok, thats it folks, I've had enough" and me trotting away happy. No Way.
*One time, when I only went to have a few at my favorite bar of all time. I was completely over served. I followed some guy home, realized I wasn't comfortable there and left. When I woke up I was sitting at an intersection with the car in park, hanging out the door vomit all over myself, my car, and the road. Some lady was shaking me, (she happen to be a bartender from a neighboring town on her way home from work) telling me to wake up. I heard another lady in another car saying she should call the police. Anyway, the bartender took me home and gave me coffee and woke her husband up to drive me home. It happen to be 37 miles away. Bless their hearts.
*Another night, same place. I met a guy there that wanted us to get a room. I knew he was married and I hate cheaters so............ I followed him on the way to a motel. He stopped along the way to pee. I told him to give me the money to go ahead and get us a room and I would be waiting for him. I pulled out with a few hundred dollars, his phone, and something else....don't remember what right offhand. I left in such a hurry, I backed into something and smashed the back of my car. But I showed him huh?
*I stopped at my X's house to see about getting my dads ladder that I left there. He was cool with it, but his new GF wasn't. It was a second story apartment. I walked up the steps and stood in the doorway, saying hello to a neighbor who happened to be over there. His girlfriend was telling me to leave, but who the fuck was she right? So I stood there talking and she jumped up and ran over and pushed me backward down the steps. Knocked me out, my broken glasses tore gashes in my face and broke my tailbone. I might of had better reflexes if I weren't drunk. At least taken her down with me.
Tip of the ice burg. I'm sick of remembering. Anyone got any too-drunk-to-function stories? I know some of you on my list have these topped. Lets hear em!
Where to start?
*While working at "the camp" I went out at lunch time and smoked a fattie with some co-workers. I spent the next two hours working without realizing I had a rather large bud stuck to my shirt. Nobody noticed?
*I know of countless times I should of been pulled over but wasn't. Four (that I remember) times I was pulled over, completely shit faced and PASSED the breathalyzer. How? I don't know...
*Most the time when I got drunk, I got crazy ideas in my head. Like getting drugs, or looting abandoned houses. Most certainly driving. I drove crazy...... speeding, reckless, I should have been dead. Thank God I didn't kill anyone.
Um what else?
*Ditching my car and walking home, 12 pack I went to get in hand. Finishing that and taking my totaled car back to the store to get more beer. The radiator was busted so I ran outta antifreeze on the way home. Called my 14 year old stepson to come tow me home.
*My first time drinking Wild Irish Rose. I was still living at home. My sister was living there too. We went into town and saw one of my "friends" walking. Ended up buying us some W.I.R. and he went home with me. I drank so much I felt sick. I don't remember if I threw up or not, I just wanted to sleep. I remember him trying to work my pants down and well.... I kept rolling over and trying to sleep. He kept trying. Never successful, and I never spoke to him again. I swore off that shit. The smell of it makes me sick.
*My first time trying Tequila. I was up at this 30 yr. old's house, I was probably between 14-16. His neighbor across the hall was someone I knew also. I was already drunk on beer and started drinking the Tequila. Wooo Doggie!! Never again on that stuff either! I spent the night on his cool bathroom tile. Taking turns sleeping and puking my guts out. I woke up several times on the rim of the toilet. Yuck! Never, and I repeat, NEVER get that drunk at a bachelors house again! The toilet is enough to make you sick without the alcohol!
The alcohol is not the problem folks! It's all these damn other people! Really, I think... ( i know it's me and this disease)
Most often I set out to get drunk. I usually didn't tell myself I could have a few. When I do set out to have a few, it never ends with me saying "ok, thats it folks, I've had enough" and me trotting away happy. No Way.
*One time, when I only went to have a few at my favorite bar of all time. I was completely over served. I followed some guy home, realized I wasn't comfortable there and left. When I woke up I was sitting at an intersection with the car in park, hanging out the door vomit all over myself, my car, and the road. Some lady was shaking me, (she happen to be a bartender from a neighboring town on her way home from work) telling me to wake up. I heard another lady in another car saying she should call the police. Anyway, the bartender took me home and gave me coffee and woke her husband up to drive me home. It happen to be 37 miles away. Bless their hearts.
*Another night, same place. I met a guy there that wanted us to get a room. I knew he was married and I hate cheaters so............ I followed him on the way to a motel. He stopped along the way to pee. I told him to give me the money to go ahead and get us a room and I would be waiting for him. I pulled out with a few hundred dollars, his phone, and something else....don't remember what right offhand. I left in such a hurry, I backed into something and smashed the back of my car. But I showed him huh?
*I stopped at my X's house to see about getting my dads ladder that I left there. He was cool with it, but his new GF wasn't. It was a second story apartment. I walked up the steps and stood in the doorway, saying hello to a neighbor who happened to be over there. His girlfriend was telling me to leave, but who the fuck was she right? So I stood there talking and she jumped up and ran over and pushed me backward down the steps. Knocked me out, my broken glasses tore gashes in my face and broke my tailbone. I might of had better reflexes if I weren't drunk. At least taken her down with me.
Tip of the ice burg. I'm sick of remembering. Anyone got any too-drunk-to-function stories? I know some of you on my list have these topped. Lets hear em!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Letter to my dead cat.......
Dear dead cat,
What killed you? It wasn't old age! You were young and healthy... Was it a dog or wild animal that got to you? Did a car hit you? Were you poisoned? Some strange feline disease? What ever it was.....Why in the name of God did you have to crawl under my front porch to die????
U could of crawled ON the porch, or in the yard, or in the drive way.... anywhere that I could of seen you! Maybe helped you, and most certainly at least made it easy for me to get rid of your body!
But nooooooo, you had to crawl right up under the porch just far enough so I couldnt see you. But I can smell you! Oh boy can we all smell you. At first whiff I knew it was something dead and rotting. It was a light odor, so I'm thinking you had drug a mouse or mole or bird up under the porch and left it. A few days later, the smell is growing, getting stonger.....
By day 4 the stench is sickening and I'm starting to wonder just what in the hell is under my porch. I look, but I dont see anything. Doesn't help that its dark under there and you are black.
Now it doesn't help matters at all that the weather has been dreadfully hot and humid. Your malodorous body is laying in hot sticky moist weather and the fumes of decay are lingering the perimeter of the yard. I am totally grossed out Midnight.
Midnight, you were the perfect cat. Hardly ever around except when hungry. Very skittsh and didn't like letting humans get close to you. I never had to pet you, or let you in or out. I hardly ever saw you. Now I just want you to go away. Could you speed up the decomp please. You have overstayed your welcome this time. You are a very unsanitary and torcherously smelly guest and are no longer welcome at my home.
Signed, Your Human,
Cindy
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
I'm still here!!
Thanks to So-Yun for sending me a comment, it reminds me that I do have a blog out there and maybe I should hop on it!!
I have been so crazy-busy in the last month!! I'm typically gone from 7 am to 9:30 pm everyday.
When I do get a few hours at home, I am busy with housework and projects. I built a wall to divide a huge bedroom to make two small rooms. I painted carpeted and redecorated both my kids rooms. (They LOVE them!)
Due to unfortunate happenings, my kids will be coming home permanently this week!!!! I am excited! The foster parents, who were my friends and also adopted my youngest child, have turned into monsters. I gently corrected them one day, while yelling at my kids on a visit. They were frustrated and arguing, and saying not-so-nice things to my kids. I simply said, very gently, that I didn't think that was appropriate. They flew off! How dare I question their perfection right??? UGH!!
I told CPS of the incident, they agreed with me and told foster parents that they were in the wrong. Well they didn't like that, and have since been real assholes to my kids. The kids call me crying, wanting to go home. Getting told they are no longer welcome there, and not to talk to anyone who "belongs to the family". It goes on and on. The teenage boys in the house, physically abuse my kids and when they cry are told to suck it up by the parents. RIDICULOUS! Who is the adult there??
So CPS can see that this is no longer a good place for them to be, and is in fact an abusive place for them to be in my eyes. They are definitely first on my prayer list!! They need it!
I have been so crazy-busy in the last month!! I'm typically gone from 7 am to 9:30 pm everyday.
When I do get a few hours at home, I am busy with housework and projects. I built a wall to divide a huge bedroom to make two small rooms. I painted carpeted and redecorated both my kids rooms. (They LOVE them!)
Due to unfortunate happenings, my kids will be coming home permanently this week!!!! I am excited! The foster parents, who were my friends and also adopted my youngest child, have turned into monsters. I gently corrected them one day, while yelling at my kids on a visit. They were frustrated and arguing, and saying not-so-nice things to my kids. I simply said, very gently, that I didn't think that was appropriate. They flew off! How dare I question their perfection right??? UGH!!
I told CPS of the incident, they agreed with me and told foster parents that they were in the wrong. Well they didn't like that, and have since been real assholes to my kids. The kids call me crying, wanting to go home. Getting told they are no longer welcome there, and not to talk to anyone who "belongs to the family". It goes on and on. The teenage boys in the house, physically abuse my kids and when they cry are told to suck it up by the parents. RIDICULOUS! Who is the adult there??
So CPS can see that this is no longer a good place for them to be, and is in fact an abusive place for them to be in my eyes. They are definitely first on my prayer list!! They need it!
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