You know who you are. You really encouraged me today...I hear you had helpers, please tell them thank you.
Meals and treats prepared for my family by kind women.
Thank you!! Saturday, May 14, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I'd like to introduce you to:
Shyla - 2 years old
Savannah - 3 yrs old
Kham - 5 yrs old
Kaleb - 9 yrs old
And I believe you know Brook-Lynn - 6 yrs old
These are the new additions to our family! They will likely be with me for about a year. Dad got busted for cocaine possession, and asked me to take them while he was in prison. CFS is in agreement, so, uh, ya..here I go!
I plan to blog about someof the craziness that is bound to arise with 8 kids and 1 parent! Wish me luck!! I figure if Kate can do plus 8 single handed, then so can I! What does she have that I don't?!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I've been experiencing a strong feeling of guilt since Darcy's suicide. Not because I could have done more for her, or should have seen the signs or anything like that. But more because I know everything there is to know about her daughter. I know all of it. When she reached her milestones, what her favorite song is, where each freckle is located on her body. I know the precise moment during her tantrums when I should bend down and ask her if she needs a hug. I know everything a mother should know. Only Darcy didn't know. She missed out on all of it. Of course I would fill her in, but its not the same as experiencing it.
Today, at the funeral, I felt the resentment from her family. The looks of scorn and anger that said,"What are you doing here". Like I was responsible for the apprehension of her children. For her pain and her fall from grace. I honestly wasn't prepared for it. I accepted it and I understand the need to lash out, but it hurt. I wanted to explain some things to them, but it wasn't the time or place. So I'm afraid I'm going to explain it to you guys instead.
They talked at the funeral about Darcy the mother. How she enjoyed her time with her kids so much. Well, in three and a half years, the only time she got to see her children is if I brought them to her. I had to supervise each visit. For 2 of those years I went 4 days a week so she could feel connected to them. Never once did I tell her I was too busy. I picked her up for every doctors appointment so she could hear first hand what the doctor had to say. I brought her shopping so she could pick out Brookie's clothes herself. I brought the kids to see her at prison, the remand center, the Psych ward at HSC, mental health halfway houses, and various rehab centers. I brought her weekly to sign in at her parole officers so she wouldn't breach and get sent back to jail. Brookie chose her Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, mothers day gifts, and just because gifts. All paid for by me. And I know that most of the time those were the only gifts she received. I researched and helped her access places that could help her. I helped her move her shit from one house to another numerous times.
AAAAHHHH.... I tried to help her in everyway I know. And all they can see when they look at me is an interloper. Someone who doesn't even have a right to be at the funeral. I'm getting mad just sitting here. None of them stepped forward when Brookie was born. I did not sneak into the hospital and snatch her. I was a foster parent and she was placed in my care. I was a stranger who was willing to do what none of the family wanted to do. Raise her child, their relative.
This isn't about me feeling self important. Not at all. I just didn't want to feel so out of place. I wanted to find comfort there with other people who knew and loved her. Instead I found rejection.
Now I'm going to get really mean, and I'll likely delete it in a few days.
Where were you, you who look at me with contempt, these past 3 years while I spent time with Darcy? While I took time away from my family to make sure she saw her kids? When she had to come to my family gatherings, because you wrote her off so long ago. Who did she call every time she needed someone? Who brought her home for a hot meal when she shared she hadn't eaten in days. Who went toe to toe with social workers to advocate for her rights? Who washed her face and the blood from her hair when she was beaten beyond recognition?
And who held her daughter's hand today as she laid a single flower into the grave of her mommy. And who prompted her to say, "Good bye mommy, I love you".
I'll tell you who. Not you.
I know who will be there for Brookie, me, same as always. If that upsets you, so be it.
Today, at the funeral, I felt the resentment from her family. The looks of scorn and anger that said,"What are you doing here". Like I was responsible for the apprehension of her children. For her pain and her fall from grace. I honestly wasn't prepared for it. I accepted it and I understand the need to lash out, but it hurt. I wanted to explain some things to them, but it wasn't the time or place. So I'm afraid I'm going to explain it to you guys instead.
They talked at the funeral about Darcy the mother. How she enjoyed her time with her kids so much. Well, in three and a half years, the only time she got to see her children is if I brought them to her. I had to supervise each visit. For 2 of those years I went 4 days a week so she could feel connected to them. Never once did I tell her I was too busy. I picked her up for every doctors appointment so she could hear first hand what the doctor had to say. I brought her shopping so she could pick out Brookie's clothes herself. I brought the kids to see her at prison, the remand center, the Psych ward at HSC, mental health halfway houses, and various rehab centers. I brought her weekly to sign in at her parole officers so she wouldn't breach and get sent back to jail. Brookie chose her Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, mothers day gifts, and just because gifts. All paid for by me. And I know that most of the time those were the only gifts she received. I researched and helped her access places that could help her. I helped her move her shit from one house to another numerous times.
AAAAHHHH.... I tried to help her in everyway I know. And all they can see when they look at me is an interloper. Someone who doesn't even have a right to be at the funeral. I'm getting mad just sitting here. None of them stepped forward when Brookie was born. I did not sneak into the hospital and snatch her. I was a foster parent and she was placed in my care. I was a stranger who was willing to do what none of the family wanted to do. Raise her child, their relative.
This isn't about me feeling self important. Not at all. I just didn't want to feel so out of place. I wanted to find comfort there with other people who knew and loved her. Instead I found rejection.
Now I'm going to get really mean, and I'll likely delete it in a few days.
Where were you, you who look at me with contempt, these past 3 years while I spent time with Darcy? While I took time away from my family to make sure she saw her kids? When she had to come to my family gatherings, because you wrote her off so long ago. Who did she call every time she needed someone? Who brought her home for a hot meal when she shared she hadn't eaten in days. Who went toe to toe with social workers to advocate for her rights? Who washed her face and the blood from her hair when she was beaten beyond recognition?
And who held her daughter's hand today as she laid a single flower into the grave of her mommy. And who prompted her to say, "Good bye mommy, I love you".
I'll tell you who. Not you.
I know who will be there for Brookie, me, same as always. If that upsets you, so be it.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Rest in Peace Darcy
Brookie's mom took her own life yesterday. My heart is broken for her little girl. How much sadness can one person endure? When I think of the hits this girl took in her life, it seems so unjust. Pain, abuse, addiction, rejection, guilt, loneliness...all one after another, with no real reprieve.
Today I will take her little girl shopping to buy a dress for the funeral. The last thing Darcy bought her were a sweet pair of white dress shoes, so whatever I buy will match them.
I rarely cry...but I will cry for her. It's the least I can fucking do. She deserves that.
...Darcy you know I loved you. Your little girl will grow up knowing about you. I will be honest with her about it all. I will be her mama for you. But I won't let her call me mommy, that was always reserved just for you... Please be at rest, sweet girl. Good bye.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
My moment in the Lime light
One of my biggest dreams has always been to sing with a band. Well, last night...I lived the dream!!
We were at a local establishment, and the band was great. I was dancing and having a blast with some friends. I noticed that "Hit me with your best shot" was on their lineup.
Before I could stop myself...I walked right upto the keyboardist and offhandedly said," Ya know, if you want a female to sing Pat Benatar, I'm your chick. My name is Joanne"
Well about five songs later, the lead vocalist announced that they had a guest singer in the house and invited me on stage.
Okay...I ROCKED IT!! I wasn't even nervous. I remembered all the words, my timing was spot on. The band members gave approving looks to one another. The crowd went crazy. My friends were taking pictures. It was such a great moment.
After I was finished, they gave me a T-shirt with their band logo on it. Imagine, giving ME a gift when they were fulfilling MY dream!
It doesn't get much better than that.
We were at a local establishment, and the band was great. I was dancing and having a blast with some friends. I noticed that "Hit me with your best shot" was on their lineup.
Before I could stop myself...I walked right upto the keyboardist and offhandedly said," Ya know, if you want a female to sing Pat Benatar, I'm your chick. My name is Joanne"
Well about five songs later, the lead vocalist announced that they had a guest singer in the house and invited me on stage.
Okay...I ROCKED IT!! I wasn't even nervous. I remembered all the words, my timing was spot on. The band members gave approving looks to one another. The crowd went crazy. My friends were taking pictures. It was such a great moment.
After I was finished, they gave me a T-shirt with their band logo on it. Imagine, giving ME a gift when they were fulfilling MY dream!
It doesn't get much better than that.
Monday, July 28, 2008
When good ideas go baaadd!
I think my ego got the best of me today. I like to think there is nothing I cannot do. No one ever told me anything to the contrary. I probably wouldn't have listened had they tried!
Well, I'd like it noted that perhaps I am not the best dog groomer in the world. Probably not even the best groomer on my street. There is distinct possibility that I am not even number one in my own household! A three years old with crayola scissors could likely fair better.
There was reason for me to believe that I could be succesful at this task. I have clipped horses. I have shorn sheep. I have cut the locks of many human heads, male and female alike. Never had anything like this happen before.
Well, let me show you my Dingo - pre haircut. Lovely little rat bastard, isn't he?
And then... an hour of clipping, with dread locks flying every which way, and I present the finished product. It should be said that my intentions were good. There was no malice involved. Heck, I wasn't even mad at the little shit. Okay...here goes.
Well, I'd like it noted that perhaps I am not the best dog groomer in the world. Probably not even the best groomer on my street. There is distinct possibility that I am not even number one in my own household! A three years old with crayola scissors could likely fair better.
There was reason for me to believe that I could be succesful at this task. I have clipped horses. I have shorn sheep. I have cut the locks of many human heads, male and female alike. Never had anything like this happen before.
Well, let me show you my Dingo - pre haircut. Lovely little rat bastard, isn't he?
And then... an hour of clipping, with dread locks flying every which way, and I present the finished product. It should be said that my intentions were good. There was no malice involved. Heck, I wasn't even mad at the little shit. Okay...here goes.
Oh...my poor, poor, used to be lovely puppy.He looks OLD. He looks SKINNY. He looks like his owners HATE HIM!!
Does the same quote for humans also apply to dogs? You know the one, "the only difference between a bad haircut and good haircut is 3 weeks?" Please say yes!
I'm sorry Dingo. If you think it will help, I will learn to knit and make you a lovely little sweater. Not much I can do about your head tho. That will just have to grow back.
The worst thing about this situation? My sister-in-law is, by trade, a PROFESSIONAL DOG GROOMER.
How you gonna explain that Jo? Miss Know it all-show off-I can do anything?!?
Being impulsive is fun alot of the time, but once in awhile it bites you in the ass!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Restless...
What is it that causes me to feel so...jittery/bored/understimulated/energetic all at the same time? I constantly feel like I should be doing something, but I'm not sure what. I can't seem to sit still for a second.
I have alot of extra time on my hands since mom and baby moved out, for sure. But it seems more than that. It's like I'm not satisfied. That's it...I'm craving something, but can't put my finger on it.
I guess it'll come to me in time. Until then, I'm having a blast teaching Bella Rue to play volleyball, and my Bowflex is grateful for all the attention its getting after a neglectful couple of months. I've even hosted a BBQ, which isn't like me.
I want to dance.
I want to run.
I want to learn something new.
I want, I want, I want. Me, me, me...
Is it the time of year. Is it the season of my life?
I used to feel content most of the time and now I feel like something is missing.
I'm gonna try chocolate. Maybe I just need more sugar in my life!
I have alot of extra time on my hands since mom and baby moved out, for sure. But it seems more than that. It's like I'm not satisfied. That's it...I'm craving something, but can't put my finger on it.
I guess it'll come to me in time. Until then, I'm having a blast teaching Bella Rue to play volleyball, and my Bowflex is grateful for all the attention its getting after a neglectful couple of months. I've even hosted a BBQ, which isn't like me.
I want to dance.
I want to run.
I want to learn something new.
I want, I want, I want. Me, me, me...
Is it the time of year. Is it the season of my life?
I used to feel content most of the time and now I feel like something is missing.
I'm gonna try chocolate. Maybe I just need more sugar in my life!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
