So, after I put the kids to bed I went to Kroger. I NEVER go to Kroger. I usually do the farmer's market, but jsut needed to get a few things for the babysitter to be set while I'm gone. I live downtown, so it's a really dodgey store.
I'm walking out the door and I see this tan van parked about 5 spaces down. Big guy in the passenger seat staring at me or the door. I assumed he was waiting for someone, but I just got a funny feeling the way he was looking. Call me paranoid, but I remembered one of htose cheesy forwards I got from someone about women being safe, blah , blah...
I stopped at the door to dig through my purse for my keys, instead of at the car, and I put them between my fingers just in case. Prego or not, I cna whip out some kick ass... All of the time thinking I'm being a dork, I go to my car and open the Passenger side door (away from the van) to put all of the groceries in. and I'm not looking at the van, but as I put the last bag in and close the door, he gets out and so does the driver. Even BIGGER guy. His face was all scared up like Seal (the singer). So I actually locked the car BACK up and took the cart all the way to the front of the store.
As I start walking toward the store, the driver comes around the back of my car, and the passenger goes over to the other lane, toward the front of my car. They're both talking on cell phones, but walking really slow. So I turn my back to them and take the cart up. When I turn back around the driver is litterally standing AT the back of my car talking on his phone, but obviously watching me. The store is busy, people are going in and out constantly. so I stand at the front door, fold my arms and just stare him straight in the eye. He's a good 10 yards away. At this point I was more pissed than scared. I've got 6 brohters. I'll kick their a$#es!!! Well, no. Better not to try that this time...
The other guy was still standing toward the front of my car, but not as close. They are totally standing there waiting for me to come back. I stood there for a good 60 seconds wating starign straight at him standing by my car. Makignit very clear that I'm not budging till they are gone.
Then 2 cars pull up and park in the parking places on both sides of my car. Tons of college students. I immediately start walking straight to my car while they are all right there next to it. The driver (at the back of my car) looks at the other guy and nods toward the store. They both hang up their phones and walk towards the store. I was in the car with the doors locked before they got inside.I don't know if they wanted my purse, or my car, or something worse. Travis pointed out that I was an easy target, since I can't run as fast being pregnant. JERKS! All I know is that I'm NEVER going Krogering late at night again on Howell Mill.

Do You Really Miss Me?

Someone emailed me and said they 'miss us'. I found it a bit ironic. I saw this person this morning at church, but they didn't say hi.
We went to church this morning. It's become increasingly easy to miss it. I worked 13 hours straight yesterday with only 2 ten minute breaks and had to be back 3-10 today. I dragged myself out of bed at 10 and told Travis we HAD to go. He wasn't so happy with me for it when he realized that we a 'substitute' teaching again. Gareth wasn't bad, but I missed alot sitting in the cafe. SOmeone grabbed me to vent about the woes of singleness. Always greener on the other side...
I just feel very distanced from people.I guess when you go through crap you find out who your friends really are. None of the people that I expected, which i guess should have been predictable. The relationships that were so important a year ago hardly exist now. People that I've tried so hard to get to know, forget who I am. On the otherhand, people who I didn't really know before have made themselves close. It's helpful, but uncomfortable. It takes too much work right now to get to know them. And I hate that they don't know the happy me that's been on vacation for a year.
Maybe my expectations are high. I give 150% to everything I do. It blows me away when I see someone act like a martyr over giving 5%. Like saying 'How are you?' is their act of kindness for the day and they are so proud of themselves for getting it out of the way so early in the morning. On the otherhand, If I guadged how much I put into things, I would be able to prioritize better and not screw my whole life up like I do. But then I have to face the fact that if that's what people are doing, I'm not even worth 5%. I prefer to go with them being lazy. It hurts less.
I'm just not the same person anymore. In some ways it's good. I've grown, I suppose. I just miss feeling free, and useful, and needed, and even wanted.
I mean, come on, really. DO you miss us? What the hell is there to miss? Everything seems to be running much smoother without us there to screw it up. Why would you miss us? You miss obnoxious calls of me complaining, or freaking out, or messing something else up? I find that hard to believe. Sweet, but a little bit like the obligatory " Say hi to someone you don't know" so that you can pat yourself on the back for being 'sociable' . Give me a break.

The Day I Decided to Stand

Seven years ago the family was together at Chilli's for dinner. Everyone was in town, including Sarah, the first grandchild, my first neice. She insisted on sitting next to Grandpa, which my sister let her do. I sat across from them. Being a normal 'almost 2 year old', Sarah hadn't quite masterd the use of crayons. She was working so hard to color, but kept going off the kids menu onto the table. Dad just couldn handle it. You can almost see his eyes turn red as he growls in an almost demonic voice "Don't you dare do that again." I see her fear and confusion. What did I do wrong? Is coloring bad? How did I make Grandpa so mad? What can't I do again? I see it and I feel the shame and devestation in hear little innocent heart. It's the same thing he did to me, to all of us, over and over our whole lives. She timidly goes back to coloring for the fifth time, chosing a different crayon. Maybe it was the color she had used that made grandpa so angry. After a few minutes she feels Ok and gets excited again. She goes off the paper. It starts all over.
I know Melissa sees the way he talked to her baby girl. I see the fire in her eyes, but still she doesn't say a word. She leaves to go to the bathroom. I don't understand.

Sarah is coloring away happily again. Everyone is talking and acting like they don't know that Dad is in a 'mood'. Sarah drops the yellow crayon and crawls down under the table to get it.

That's when it happened. I felt the whole world stop. I saw my father reach down and violently wrench his only precious grandchild up by her tiny little arm and throw her back in the booster seat.
That's when I stood. With my brothers and sisters staring at me in shock, I told my father exactly what would happen. If I ever saw him hurt a child again, he would never see any child of mine. He would never be involved in their lives. I walked away from the table, out the door and got in my car. No one ever said a word. No one ever has. I had just turned 19.

***************************************

Travis and I had to face it this week. There have been a few instances where he hassnapped with Selah, and my stomach just drops to my feet. It's just that he's changed so much. I see him be so much more loving than he ever was before. But the anger is still there. I've never seen him touch her.
A few weeks ago everyone was out of town, leaving my Dad at home alone for the first time in years. We decided to take him with us to a Braves game. Selah was so excited. Like any other 2 year old would, she wanted to climb all over all of us to see better. She wanted to do the wave. She screamed and clapped, sometimes when no one else was. I was dealing with Jacob who was hot and miserable. Travis sat on one side of me and my Dad on the other. Selah decided it was time to climb on Grandpa and jump and scream. I knew he was starting to get irritated.
I wasn't sure what I saw. It was just a flash out of the corner of my eye. His hand moved, she arched her back. She quickly came to me and crawled up on my lap. She rested her head on my shoulder and cuddled. "What happened, Dad?" I asked. "Nothing" he said. I peeked at her back and I wasn't sure if I saw red marks of not. It was kind of dark.
The next morning I saw the proof. I didn't expect it. I was putting a dress on her and thought I should check her back, just in case. There in the middle of her tiny delicate back were 4 big bruises, clearly from large fingertips thrust into her back. I was devestated. The floor fell out from beneath me. I held her and I cried.
We didn't confront them until this week. It was hard. I wanted to cool down. I wanted to be loving. We basically told them that he needed to get counseling and start working on anger management,or they will not be able to see our kids anymore. He took it much more humbly than I've ever seen him before. He cried and asked forforgiveness, which we willingly gave. But forgiveness doesn't mean that we can leave our kids there again. It was really stressfull. Hehas changed so much for the better since I was a child. I hope thatthis helps even more. We are still spending time with the wholefamily, but I am watching very carefully. I'm really just waitingfor the next blowup. If he makes one move that I don't like, we willstop all contact until I have proof from a professional that he hasmade progress. I don't know if we should threaten to report them. Ijsut don;t know how far to go with it. Compared to some of the sickstuff out there, he's pretty mild. I have no doubt that he loves usall. He's just never been taught how to deal with his anger.

Home's Cool, Schools Drool...

Pretty tacky title, huh? This is an email I wrote for a friend regarding Home Schooling. I just want to be able to find it later. Feel free to read...

My mother was a home schooling pioneer. My sister was the first 'Home schooled' to be accepted into college in VA, back in '80-something. My mom has been doing it for over 23 years (the youngest 2 are still at home).
SHOULD YOU- Only if you feel like God has called you to. Don't do it because your friends pressure you. Never because you just miss your kids. Never out of guilt. It is so much work. It's a whole new level of parental responsibility. Every decision you make and every word from your mouth has the potential to 'bless or curse' their education, self-esteem and future. I've seen absolutely amazing things come from it. I’ve also seen some situations that I wish I could forget.
SOCIALIZATION- This is the first thing that people are usually concerned with. When I was home schooled, not even half of what is available now was around. Many times I had to explain to people what home schooled meant! I was better socialized than ANY of my friends because my parents were able to chose healthy situations for me to be in. As adults, we don't get to just 'socialize' all the time. Not many of us see our best friend every day. I feel like letting that be a priority can set up an unrealistic expectation of adulthood. Think about it. Why are so many '20-somethings' hesitant to get a real job, start a family, make a commitment, etc. It's the same thing as a youth group mentality to me. If the youth groups main focus is fun instead of learning about God, then what teen is going to like the transition into sitting in a 1 hour service where you are learning about your Heavenly Father (instead of having candy thrown out into the crowd, or playing games). There is a place for the fun and socialization. Just like in adult life, it should come second.
EDUCATION- I think the hardest thing as a home-schooled mom is keeping your perspective on what your involvement in the education should be. It's your job to show them God’s love, first and foremost. If it's too stressful for you to have them 24/7, they should be in school or you should have other moms to share teaching with. At the very least, have a day when they are in some other classes so you can regroup and refocus. If there is a subject that you cannot give them what they need, FIND A SUB. Find other moms and use each other's strengths. We went to a friend’s house to learn Spanish and they came to our house for hands on chem. lab. Find a coop.

FINANCES- Don't do it if you can't afford unless you have resources already available. It's not cheap. You have to be willing to sacrifice for it, just like if you were paying for private school. They still have to learn, even things you don't have the knowledge to teach. It's your responsibility to get that to them.
My parents made many mistakes teaching us, and they do affect my every day. BUT not anywhere near how much the good has made me who I am.

When I Grow Up

I wanted to be everything. I still do! Maybe that's my problem.
I wanted to be a dancer until I was 11. They my dad lost his job and we couldn't afford the classes. I started my period and gained 30 lbs. The outcome is obvious there..
At 12 I wanted to be a missionary. I lived on books about Gladys Alyward, Amy Charmicael... any single missionary woman that worked with children. I tried to learn Spanish on my own. Then I discovered boys...
AT 13 I wanted to be a Mom. I wanted to not even kiss until my wedding day. I wanted to have 8 kids, all home births. I wanted to homeschool them all. I even named them. Selah, Luci, Keziah, Lydia Jacob, Louis, Charles, Samuel.
At 15 I discovered my passion for writing, and what I THOUGHT was my huge talent for it. It helped me through the bad times. I have pages of pathetic prose dedicated to all my teenage angst.
Three days before my 16th birthday, we moved to Atlanta and I met Travis the next week. The writing lasted until my first year of college at 17. I was the youngest staff writer ever for the school paper. I got a D in English 101 and was devestated. Apparently the new ciriculum confused Englosh 101 with Polictically Correct 101. I quit college over it. What 17 year old should be living on her own working 2 jobs and going to college anyway? I haven't written since.
At 19, after 3 1/2 years dating, he broke up with me on the phone at 7:30 in the morning. I was on the cordless, looking at my wedding dress at the time. I asked him what he expected me to do with the dress and he said he didn't know. It was Friday, June 13th.
A few weeks later I decided that I should park my 74 VW Beetle at the bottom of the Chatahoochee in the Damn wedding dress. My period was late, and I couldn't face my weakness at giving in. An old friend called and I already had the dress on. WHe asked me to come spend the night and go to church with her, which sounded like a better idea. God touched my heart. I found out I wasn't pregnant that week.As a result, I quit my cosmotology apprenticeship and decided to persue the missionary plan. I spent a year waiting tables and working at my church. I told God that my husband had to take me to dinner at this restaurant the night he proposed. I worked hard to immagine it, knowing that Travis was gone.
The next August (1998) I left for Bolivia and my whole life changed. It was a dream come true. I did it! I loved it! I learned to speak Spanish. I was there for 9 amazing months, loving on street kids.I want to go back...
I came back and there was a new sound director at my church. It was 2 years since I hung up the phone and closed the closet so I wouldn't have to see the wedding dress we bought together. I loved my church. I could have left but he WAS my best friend for those 3 1/2 years. Meybe I could have that back.
Then I had to dance. I learned Salsa and Swing, not the original plan of a ballerina, but I loved it! I was thin for the first time since I was 12. A true size 6! Yes, that is WITHOUT the usual '1' in front of it. I went out with a couple of guys. Only the ones who liked to dance. Looking back, I'm pretty sure they were gay. Travis said I was crazy and that would never dance.
In Febuary a year later(2000), we decided to go 'hang out as friends'. I paid for my dinner and we went in MY car with ME driving. It was great. I missed him. On the way back to drop him off Travis said "I have to tell you something." I kinda got a weird feeling about it and told him maybe he shouldn't. Of course, he did anyway. "I've been praying a long time about this, and God has given me permission to persue you as my wife again." I responded immediately. "That's nice, but I didn't so don't". We saw each other every couple of weeks after that. At lunch on Easter Sunday he asked if we could call this one a date, and I finally said yes. I loved it.
In June I panicked and took a job offer in North Carolina, 5 hours away. I knew that God could make it last if it was His idea, but I couldn't survive in Atlanta again if it didn't. I came back every other weekend because I missed him so much.
He proposed on August 26th. We were sitting on 'Our park table' that we had carved our initials in when we were 18. No one knew about the restaurant, but somehow he took me there for dinner. He had gotten on the internet and figured out how to ask in SPanish. How did he know that was the second most important thing to me? I'd never told a soul. Somehow he knew my soul.
On April 28, 2001. I put on the wedding dress that my mom had protected from my destructive depression. I walked down the aisle towards the most amazing man I've ever met...Jesus was there...

If I could only Breath...

I'm spent... I'm tired...I'm sick.. and I just don't know how much longer I can live this way. For every one step towards hope I take, there are 5 more personal or financial disasters to put me back in my place and I find myself ashamed of even having hope.
I can't find the emotional energy to pray, and the words are just stuck somehow. I know that God is out there holding me. I just wish I could feel his arms.
Every time something happens, I think it's the last straw. I think I'm losing my mind. I tell myself that this must be rock bottom and the only way now is up. It's just not working. I struggle to fegain a positive outlook and as soon as I get back up something else happens. I'm actually making some money now, and it's pretty great money. But the car breaks domn and costs $900 and Jacob needs allergy testing at $200.... Everything is gone before we can do anything with it.
I don't have hot water in the kitchen. I can't mow my lawn because the mower was stolen. I can't cook because the gas is turned off. I can't make sales calls because the car broke down again (regardless of damn $900 we spent on it LESS THAN A MONTK AGO!). And that's just the Passat. They timing belt went out on the Rodeo, and it looks like the whole engine is blown. We jsut paid the last payment on in in November..So both cars are dead and we are sharing the Volvo that we had to borrow $2500 to buy last month.
I can't get the physical therapy that I need for my back because it's $25 a visit, I need to go twice a week, I can't get there without a car and I can't take 2 kids with me.
Feeding Jacob with all of his allergies costs as much as our grocery budget to feed the rest of us every week. I nursed him for the last time yesterday. I feel like a failure for not having the strength so 'Suck it up' and contunue breastfeeding with all of the restrictions. I just couldn't handle it. I nevcer claimed to be as amazing as other people who were able to deal with that. Why can't everyone stop comparing me to it? I don't care if it worked for some moms to cut out dairy. Did they cut out wheat, soy, yeast, baking soda, rye and tomoatoes? Everything I eat is like kryptonite to him, and I just couldn't do it.
I spent over a year and a half dedicating the majority of my free time to my church. We even moved from Marietta to live near the church so that I could do this. I was so shure that it was what God wanted. I've always believed that if you give of yourself, and trust the Lord, he will take care of you. But he didn't, and he hasn't and he STILL ISN'T. I feel like every decision that we've made has been a mistake. God has brought good from a lot of it, but I just don't feel like it's enough.
My house is like a war zone. I'm so ashamed. I don't know if I've ever even SEEN a house this messy in my life! It is absolutely unliveable. I just can't seem to win.
I have all these new people in my life who didn't know me before 2 years ago. I feel like a shell of what I used to be. I don't want people to know me like this. I've become unreliable, unpredictable, depressed, negative. I can't seem to have a conversation without it coming back to my pathetic life, and I feel like all I ever do is complain and vent. I'm sick of every conversation, every decision coming back to how rediculously broke we are. I'm sick of explaining that yes, Travis is making good money at his new job and yes, I'm doing better than I ever expected with Arbonne. But somehow, we are worse off than when we started.
It just can't get any worse. I don't think I can take another hit. What do I do? And no one can save me. It's not your job. I think I'm going to be sick. I'm so alone. I keep waiting for God to peek his head in like the Dr in the examining room and at least say, " I know you feel aweful. Just one more minute. I'll be there and we'll figure out how to make you better." Just some sort of hope. I have no idea if this will ever end. I'm still waiting.