I don't know where to begin, this isn't easy. One of my fav reads is a blog written by velvetsacks. She wrote a blog the other day about a program called challenge day. In my life I am all too familiar with programs designed to help our youth deal with bullying. Velvet's blog resurrected feelings and memories for me, ones I really choose not to revisit. As I look back , it started for my daughters in 4th grade, it was subtle.....but the bullying, relational aggression, whatever you want to call it was beginning to rear it's ugly head. It began to manifest itself into their lack of sleeping, appetite, confidence, in a nut shell, they began to feel worthless. I, as a mom, felt as if I was struggling to save my daughters from a rare, incurable, and fatal disease. Two of those previous descriptions, rare and incurable are far from the truth, fatal it CAN be. We struggled for the next two years, 6th grade came along, and I actually felt as if my daughters spirits had been broken. One week during 6th grade, it was becoming extremely intense in our home, and I literally felt myself choking on my heart. I decided to leave work at lunch to drop in on my daughters school. I arrived about 5 minutes into their lunch. When I entered the cafeteria through the side door, the only part of my body that saw, felt, and listened was my heart, the heart of a mother, the heart of a human being that has felt this in her life as a child, and at times as an adult. As I panned the room I noticed NO ONE was aware of what was happening, but me, the givers and the receivers. My girls happened to be the receivers that day, again. Now let me tell you, they don't have the "thick skin" that I have, and they may never have. Their sensitivity is a gift, and they shouldn't HAVE to change, it's who they are. That day, the looks I saw darting back and forth across that cafeteria were enough to frighten me, even I felt intimidated. Girls are silent daunters. My girls were sitting alone, right where those "other" girls wanted them. As I looked at my daughters faces, I could see it took every shred of power within them to keep from crying, until they spotted me. I backed off until after lunch, because I think I wanted to kill someone. I went to the principles office and told him I was taking the girls out of school for the rest of the day, and that we had plans.

When my daughters and I moved to this community, I was going through a divorce, we all were going through our own difficult times. But without a doubt, I knew we were the bastards of the community. The school I chose to send them to was a small Christian school. The background of their fellow students went back 3 to 4 generations. We were for the most part happy with our move, and we did love the school. After 6th grade, I for the most part had gotten fed up with the atmosphere there. The cruelty had been fostered by some of the teachers if you can believe it. When they reached 7th grade I went to a parent teacher conference and begged the teacher to do something about these issues, I had already spent 3 years online researching bullying, and you couldn't tell me it wasn't real. I purchased the teacher books on the subject, brought her information on where to look for help, contacted a Judge in a neighboring town who writes material on the subject. I had given this teacher an arsenal, and all she could say to me was,"Sandy, I DON'T have time for this". I felt like someone knocked the wind out of me. I told her that she was loosing productive time in class with all of this bullying going on, I mean what child can concentrate in class thinking "who is whispering about me, who is making fun of me, and why didn't I get an invitation to that party?" The Judge I obtained the material from, KNEW how important it was that these issues be addressed, because many of the youth he encountered in court had been the victims of such cruelty, they just chose to handle it with drugs, knifes, guns. I did continue to pursue the issue with the principle, pastor, anyone who would listen, and finally they implemented a program, but it wasn't strong enough, they didn't make it known that they are zero tolerance. And it was hard for them to admit they had a problem.

When 8th grade rolled around, we chose to home school. The teacher that told me she didn't have time for this, sat down on her porch and cried when I told her the girls wouldn't be returning, she also told me she didn't want to deal with it, because it brought back too many painful memories for her. She figured she survived, so will her students. This torture that happens in schools stays with us for a life time, some of us are able to put it on it's proper shelf in our minds, for others it never goes away, and causes us to bully others the rest of our lives. We all carry pain of some sort in our lives, most of us handle it fairly well, but for children and teenagers who can't handle it, they use drugs, kill fellow students, or commit suicide. EVERY student deserves to be respected for who they are, they deserve to attend school without fear, they deserve to feel accepted and loved. Diversity training is a place to start.


High school is now here, and talk about preconceived notions...my girls think all of the pretty girls have perfect lives, and have suffered no pain. WRONG!! I told my daughters, you all share the trauma of pain, no one is exempt from life, so don't think for a moment you don't have anything in common with the wealthy, or pretty, or popular girls, and also those on the opposite end of the economic scale, because you do, we have all been hurt. While driving one of my daughters home from a football game a month ago, her friend happened to hitch a ride with us, she, as my daughter put it, is one of the most popular girls in 9th grade, cute as can be, her parents have a showcase home, and drive beautiful new vehicles. I was listening to them talk about scary movies and the girl said to my daughter, "I get scared really easy, I can't watch those movies". My daughter asked why, and the girl told her it's because she had been raped as a child, in the dark, by a man her family trusted. My daughter told her she was so sorry. I asked the girl if he is still in prison, she said no, so I then asked his name (so I could check this out for myself), I went on Michigans sex offender web site, and sure enough I saw his face and what he did time for, he now lives in a lovely home in my neighboring community. My daughter learned first hand a valuable lesson that evening, don't judge people. She kept saying to me after we dropped that girl off, "mom, I would have never guessed that could have happened to her" I could actually see my daughters mind and heart grow as she thought about what she just heard. I reminded her why we all deserve acceptance and love, no matter where we come from. This Challenge Day workshop is a program I will look into further, I wish it would be a part of the curriculum. I don't think the day is far off where that will happen, because we won't have a choice, I don't see that we have one right now.

But by the grace of God, they made it off to highschool.

I haven't choked them yet. Last night I said it, words my mother said to me, but I don't think she meant them as much as I did. ANGELA, I can only hope you have 5 daughters....no wait, 8. I told her when she comes crying to me one day, I'm going to laugh, but only on the inside. Then I proceded to tell her I'm going to become senile one day, and visit her at her home, and shit in her best chair. She said to me, "I'll leave you there mom, you will die in that chair". Then I in turn told her, "someone would miss me", she said "yea, you're right, but they'll plan a party because YOU'RE DEAD!!!" You may wonder how people that love each other so much can speak that way to each other, I wonder that also. The word bitch as never entered my mind as much as it has these past 3 months. My lovely family (it took a lot to type that) believes in passive parenting, if you don't know what that is, look it up. Passive parenting is sort of like passive living, lay your ass down in the center lane of a highway, and let several wheels run over you. My family has this belief that no matter what my girls do, or what awful things happen to them, somehow I'm responsible, sounds screwy to me, whatever happened to personal responsibilty, it's called "the choices they make" I know now, after raising my daughters for 14 short years, you work strictly by your gut. Now boys are entering the picture (those bastards). My father told me many, many years ago, the one and only thing boys want....I listened to him, I remained a virgin up until I was almost 18, and then I shouldn't have given it away. So I tell my daughters the same thing. Thank God they can talk to me most of the time about sex, but I'm sure there are many things they don't tell me. Like the other evening, I was driving Amanda to get her hair cut, she turned to me and said, "mom, the other day, so and so (so and so is 13) gave Tommy a boner", I looked at Amanda and said," Why do you tell me this stuff when I'm driving 55 MPH?? Do you know what a boner is???? It's an erection, a hard on, the boy is excited...do you really know what that is?" She said," I do now". She also let me know she really doesn't want to hang with so and so to much anymore, because ALL she wants to talk about is boys. (Great sense of relief from my body came out!) In my heart I know it will turn out alright, part of the reason is because I'm involved emotionally with them, but it can be so draining. Our heads are in two completely different places, they would tell you mine is up my ass, and I'd tell you that is where they keep theirs. So fooey, phooy, or phoey, however you spell it, on that passive parenting shit, I'm choosing to stay involved, and right up their rectum till their minds mature. I love them enough to let them hate me right now. When the day comes, and they are wearing their caps and gowns, hopefully drug free, top of their class, unpregnant, and two responsible members of society, my lovely family can pat themselves on the back for the great job they have done. I for one will be thanking God for all of His help, I couldn't do it without Him.

Turn the heat DOWN..please!

First blah, blah, blah from me: Is it only Michigan...or is it Flippin hot everywhere?? My dogs (I don't know how they do it) hold there urine all day after the first morning pee, even they don't want to step outside!
Second: At least I have had great entertainment on ebay these past few days, since it's too hot to venture out.
Third: My dear husband is working night shift till he retires at the end of the year, I miss him terribly at night. Max and Gabbie now feel they can replace him by sharing the bed with me..mmhh..I'll have to think about that. Anyhow this entire switch of his hours has sort of turned the rest of us around. My Jim is the best guy, never complains, just does what he has to do, he is very devoted. I am blessed.
Fourth: I was listening to a Christian radio station the other day, and it was a talk program. This woman was describing a time when she lost her voice for months...begging God to give it back, cripes sakes, after listening to her for 10 minutes, I wish God hadn't listened to her. I would be the perfect mute...I was thinking she was lucky to loose her voice..I could handle that..I think I'm a closet recluse. When I do open my mouth, it's usually directed at Amanda and Angela, and is very loud, AND words have rolled off my tongue that would make a sailor blush. I gotta work on that.
Fifth: Life seems very busy this summer, where is it going? My mind seems so absorbed with "stuff", but important stuff. I need to make decisions about the future, like should I return to work as a pipefitter, or do I take the buy out? My husband doesn't want me to return, he always said he wanted us to go out of there together, I'm thinking he is right. But it's scary. I'll be forced..and that's a good thing...to dive into what I've always wanted to do, and it's not a geologist (not yet anyway) it is pursuing my love of art, no it's my passion. I have no need to be famous, then I'd have to talk to people. I just want to create beautiful things from my heart and soul. I would love to be a "behind the scenes artist" and have no one know who I am, because I'm rather boring if you ask me, I'm not a bitch, I just don't have much to say...but I have lots to write!
Sixth: Evil things and people. I won, yep I won...It was a battle to keep my mouth closed about a certain person that I only know of via their web page. I so wanted to dive into a forum and join in. This person is not very kind, she says mean and hurtful things, I think she is more alone then anyone I know. I hate to wish ill on anybody, so I won't. This person has so much spiritual cancer, I'm surprised she hasn't fallen over and died. If the truth be known, she is in more pain then any of the people that she hurt. Now, that statement can either make you say aawww, poor so and so, or it may put a smile on your face, choose for yourself. I'm not saying what I choose, cause I'm doing the writing here, it's my blog.
Seventh: I must get ready for church, I'm thanking God for the miracle He showed to the lady and her son. The benefit auction was a total success (see # 2 ^ there). I witnessed some beautiful things happen...the world indeed is a better place because of it, to think otherwise, is lunacy.

Independence Day 2006

The town I live in, is in Michigan. We hold the most awesome July fourth celebration, it lasts a total of 5 days, beginning with a fair, and wrapping up with 3 days of fireworks. The final night of fireworks lasts around 45 minutes, it surpasses Detroit by a long shot. We are very blessed in my community to have so many people give their time and money to make all of this happen. You can view the sky from as far as 10 miles, words cannot describe the explosions in the night sky. I love to go with my family and sit as close as possible, I want to feel the rumbles, and smell the gun powder, and feel the energy of the crowd. The water-way is jam packed with boats, the entire city is so full of life. Around 250,000 people come to our town to witness this grand show. The final song they play during the grand finale is "God Bless America" the words bring tears to my eyes, "God bless America, my home sweet home". I could not imagine living elsewhere, this country is not perfect, but by God, it doesn't get any better than this.

A "new" bike for Jonathon

Last night while my husband and I were sitting in our backyard enjoying the beautiful evening, we heard the doorbell ring. At the door stood an elderly man I recognized, one year ago I used to live a 1/4 mile down the road from him. He asked me about an old innertube I had put out for pickup, he said he would like it for his grandson to use in his pool. I told him I would throw it in the pickup truck and deliver it to his home...we only moved a 1/2 mile from our old home. I told him I had been waiting for him and his grandson to ride their bikes by my home again because I had a bike they might be interested in. I had noticed the past few months that his grandson Jonathon had been riding a broken down bike, and it was a girls bike...kids get teased about those kind of things. I asked the grandpa if it was alright if I offered Jonathon a bike that my daughter had out grown, she maybe had 5 miles on it at most, and it was a boys bike. Grandpa said it was o.k., so I wiped the dust off from it, and wheeled it out of the garage. Jonathon jumped right on and took it for a spin. I may not have a picture on my camera of a seven year old boy, with black hair, stunning blue eyes, and a face covered with freckles, proud as could be riding his "new" bike, but my minds eye will hold that picture forever. I told the grandpa I would put it in the truck also, and deliver it to him. After I reached their home I unloaded the tube and bike and stayed for a visit. It was apparent to me that Jonathon had some problems, his grandpa told me he is ADHD, and that he is on medication. I spent some time with Jonathon explaining how to operate the gears on his new bike , and out of the blue he told me that he has a mom and dad, they just don't want him. I struggled to continue our lesson about gears, as I'm looking into his beautiful eyes wondering "HOW???", how could he NOT be wanted? I knew when I left their home last night it wouldn't be the last visit I will have with them. This morning about 11:00 (I'm being lazy in my jammies) the doorbell rang, it was Jonathon, he had a envelope for me, I opened it and read it, I laughed, and felt so overwhelmed with joy...the note had a picture of a monkey with wings holding a bananna, the note read, "Thankyou for the bike! I'll be flying around the neighborhood with my new bike! Keep cats, dogs, and cars out of the way. And don't step on a bananna peel. "signed" Your friend Jonathon" I let Jonathon know that this letter is going to hang on my refridgerator for a long time to come, we shook hands and said we will be seeing each other soon. I must say, I was honored that a 7 year old boy wants me to be his friend. If I can give him anything of importance, it will be hope. I have a feeling I will be involved in this childs life for a while, nothing I chose to do, rather it was chosen for me.

Max & Gabbie

We went without living with a dog for 10 years, the time just wasn't right. Having a dog, to me, is a huge commitment, for I know when I take one on, it's part of our family till it's time for them to cross over that rainbow bridge. That is another reason why it was a hard decision, it's always been difficult for me to loose an pet. After much prodding by one of my daughters, we started checking out the animal shelter the end of August 2005. I had never been to one of those places, animals had always found me, I never went looking for one. This particular animal shelter is divided into good doggies, and bad doggies....although I don't think there are any bad doggies, only bad owners. Max was in a cold cement room with 65 cages, they were filled with the undesirable dogs. He was just dropped off that morning, and I suppose because of his breed, (chow, german shepard, retriever), and not knowing if he had any of those dog diseases, he was placed with the quarantined dogs. He looked so frightened, so mangy, and just so out of place. I remember after seeing him, I high-tailed it out of that room, holding my breath so my flood gates didn't break loose. My senses were reeling, I felt like I had just walked through a prison, like you see in a movie with the prisoners begging you to acknowledge them. I placed my name on the list for Max, grabbed my girls, ran to the car, and sat there and cried like a baby. We had to wait 5 days to see if someone would claim him, I didn't think that was going to be a problem. We returned the following week when the doors opened to take our new baby home...I asked the people at the desk (a county run shelter...paid for by taxpayers) if they would like vet references from me, they said with a puzzled look, "no, but we need $25.00 in CASH"....obviously they don't give a shit who takes these animals home. The only thing that curbed my "evil tongue", and "my wanting to bitch-slap-em hand" was Max's beautiful thankful eyes, and my daughters smiles.
Max has been everything I could have ever dreamed of in a dog, he knows his place in our home, and learns rather quickly, he only wants to please us (most of the time). I love him so much that this past Christmas we got him a "toy" named Gabbie.....she is another story, but for now I have to return to the book I'm reading titled "Cesar's Way" by Cesar Millan, he has the TV show "The Dog Whisperer", it's really a neat informative book.

The pool is up!!

I must have hauled about 5,259,467 loads of soil and sand in the wheel barrow, just preparing the ground for a pool..my dear husband hauled about 325,000 more loads then I. I was elated Thursday night when he told me he was going to take Friday off from work so we could erect this pool. I love working along side of him...it's so natural, we work so well together. Every time we embark on a project for my girls, I am forever amazed at how he just goes at it. My Jim, is one of the finest men I have ever known, his mom and dad raised him well. My husband tells me my x-husband made it easy for him, anything he could do for me, surely surpassed what my EX did (or didn't do), and he is right. My sweet husband informed my daughters that the doggies can also share the pool with us.......half of me says, what the hell are you thinking??? The other half of me thinks, maybe I should not worry about the little stuff so much. I so wish I could relax more about things, guys are different for sure. Now if Michigan would only cooperate and give me some sunshine to warm this pool up...I need a tan, because as most people know, tanned fat looks better then white fat.

Today would have been my Dad's 73rd birthday. It is really a shame (for the family) that he died at the age of 71. Dad was a child at heart, and just as curious also. Growing up, I knew my Dad worked hard for his family. He was 18 when he married my Mom, she was 17. The odds today of a marriage starting out so young, and lasting, aren't very good, hey, the odds of marriages lasting at all are still at 50%, right? In the fifties, it seemed there were an entirely different set of values, or maybe values were valued more. I am sure their marriage endured rough times, but they were so busy raising 5 children there wasn't much time to dwell on their differences. I found my Dad the most enjoyable when he finally retired, it gave him the time to be a substitute Dad for my girls, and to set an example of what Dads are suppose to be like. He seemed like the glue that held our family together, because after he passed away, (and it WAS sudden, damned Michigan snow anyway) the family seemed to break apart, I just think some people need to grow up at some point in their lives. I know in my heart my Dad lives on in all of us, and the best way to honor him is to try and get along, it's what he would have expected. So in honor of his Birthday, I'm going to work hard, take Mom to get a new set of tires, lend an ear to someone who needs it, and have an ice cold beer. Rest in peace my dear Dad, you have earned it! I'll see ya someday when my work is done.

My eldest sister

I suppose I write everything as though I'm having a one-sided conversation...which I am. I have too many thoughts and feelings, not, to put them down somewhere. This Blog helps me to maybe answer questions I have, and also remember my feelings, and thoughts, about a day. Hopefully this virtual space will always remain, so one day my children can read my thoughts, and know the me, outside of the Mom. At their age, they don't fully comprehend that I am a person (singular) , and that I feel (verb). For some reason that is the layout of life.
I had a wonderful...no, better then wonderful day yesterday. My mom dropped my eldest sister off to my home in the early afternoon, it has been way too long since she and I shared time alone, (the girls are in day camp this week and almost hate it). Most of the day consisted of each other co-existing in each others space...with perfect harmony I might add. I was born on Cindys birthday, which is November 23...she is 7 years my senior, (I always say to her, I was her best birthday present)...she only glares at me, I do it to get a rise out of her (smiling).

When I was a young child, Cindy is what people labeled as "mentally retarded", I prefer to use that label for some people, such as my X boss..(smiling again). Now we refer to people like her as developmentally disabled, or slow, or mentally challenged. Couldn't we all fall into those categories at one time or another? Cindy is 53 years old, but in this world I would place her at around 10 or 11 years of age. When I am with her, I have a degree of patience that surpasses MY comprehension, (patience is not my long suit by any means). I have always learned from her, and continue to do so, I, for as long as I can remember have referred to her as a gift. Because of who she is, I personally, have learned tolerance for those whom don't respond physically or mentally as quick as most. She tires very easily, so I made a comfy sleeping area for her, and turned on one of her favorite shows, layed one of my pups next to her, while the big pup layed on the floor, perfect harmony. When she awoke, she said, "Sandy, I had a deep nap". I only smiled, (my heart was bursting with joy), she felt so safe with me and my dogs. My dogs gave her much love and attention, they are wonderful creatures. In the evening, we sat outdoors and soaked in the beautiful warm summer air, she decided to get up and take a walk alone, as I sat back and watched her walk away from me, I couldn't help but notice how she walks a little slower, or how her hair is graying, or how she walked in a way that she knows she is aging. It is difficult to view Cindy as getting older, because she socially acts as if she is a young child. By the grace of God, (and a lot of training by our mother) Cindy is able to manage in her own home, she enjoys her independence (don't most of us?). As I was driving her home in the late evening, I asked her what she will be doing the rest of the night, she mentioned a few T.V. programs, one of them being Power Rangers, and I am reminded again of how vunerable she is in this crazy world. We as a family, (separately, but that's another story) will forever have to watch over Cindy and keep her safe and healthy, it is not a burden in any way to me, for the little I give to her, I receive back ten-fold. Not that a message is needed here, but if there were to be one, it's all in your perspective, (kind of the half empty or half full way of thinking). But with Cindy, I don't completely choose my perspective, it's almost like it's inevitable. So, here's to you sis, (that's her nickname for me) you fill my heart with such joy! I love you.

Cracked pot

My daughters and I attended a contemporary service at our church last night, I felt an overwhelming need to go. Funny, when that happens, it seems as though the sermon is directed towards me. Our Pastor spoke of a water bearer who would tote two clay pots to the river for water for his master. One of the pots was totally intact, the other bore a crack. After about a year the cracked pot apologized to the water bearer saying, "I am so sorry, by the time you return, half of the water that I hold is gone". The water bearer told the pot, "even though you are flawed, you still have been useful, you see I have planted flower seeds along our path, and as we walked you have managed to water those seeds so I could provide fresh cut flowers to my master". (I hate it when I cry in church) Lately I have been feeling broken and not of much use. Through that message I find God loves us no matter where we are in life, no matter how broken we are, He will use us for His benefit. The Pastor had two clay pots on the altar, one flawless, the other cracked. He placed a candle in each one to demonstrate that in some of the most broken people, you can see Gods light shine through the most. The sermon also reminded me of Gods perfection, how He can love the most unloveable people, even I can't do that....a few names come to mind. ;) After the sermon ended people stood around and chatted, and talked about the cracked pot, many saying how they feel broken also, so I proceeded
to say, "I have a BIG crack"...after my daughter poked me in the back I realized what I had just said..I.COULD.HAVE.DIED!! On the bright side I know my daughter will have some of her mothers raunchy sense of humor, that sense of humor was my saving grace when I worked in a world of all men, it helped to break the ice, and to keep them on their toes. By the time the work day ended, I was sure they would go home and treat their wifes with the respect they so deserved...because I let them know in no uncertain terms that they weren't easy to work with...how in Gods name did their wifes put up with them??? May you find the peace of God in your day..no matter how perfect you feel, or how broken you are.

My Maypole of life

To me a Maypole is "something" to dance around, something that brings great joy. For me, it was, and remains my father. This has been my second year without my father here with me on Fathers Day. He set a wonderful example for my daughters and I......and many others also. I eventually will figure out this entire blog thing, and post a picture of him. My dad was truly a gift from God, I believe sent to spread joy, and to keep his children safe and warm. I only hope that he knew how much he gave to his family, he deserved that much. He visits me in my dreams when I call out to him, I do know, he is not gone. I do hope I thanked him enough for all that he did for us and for all of the times he was there for me, and I hope I told him enough times how much I loved him. Dad was my Maypole in life, I so enjoyed dancing around him, he surely was a sight to behold!
I love you Dad, for you were my favorite person in the entire world.