Stop the Abuse

From the original email:

On Thursday, September 27th, post about any abuse topic you care about - child abuse, domestic abuse, animal abuse, drug abuse, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, political abuse - and let the world know you stand united with thousands of bloggers as part of the Bloggers Unite “Blog Against Abuse” campaign. Depending on your topic, you can even link to local, regional, national, or international organizations that you care about or support. Every post will count!

This is very timely. Though it’s not exactly a case of abuse, she was apparently killed by someone who knows her. I’ve written before about my own brush with domestic violence. I never really thought of it as domestic violence while it was going on. That was something that happened to other people. It happened to women who had no sense of self, no education, no self-esteem, no idea that there was any other way. It did not happen to me.

I was wrong. It happened to me. And it could happen to anyone. I thought I had too much respect for myself to ever be in such a situation. Again, I was wrong. It happens so quickly – one moment you are in a new relationship and giddy, a few weeks later you are sobbing in a corner and wondering how it came to this. Or it happens slowly, over time, with name-calling and isolation and then actual physical abuse.

I wish I had known several things before I met him. I wish I had known that I am a likable person, that I don’t need a man to define me and that the world won’t end if I leave. I wish every woman in the world knew that. But for now, I pray for Nailah Franklin’s family, and for the thousands of women out there like her. Like me.

Thanks to Rura and Missa for letting us know about this day. If you need help, please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or visit this site for more resources.

 

With apologies to the animal activists

Sorry, PETA, Angel Face hearts the circus.

Clarification: She loved the hell out of the circus. And her favorite acts were those involving elephants, horses or tigers. The little housecats in multi-colored vests she couldn’t care less about. But show her a llama dressed up in sequins, and the girl becomes a spastic mess.

Hubby got free tickets through work last week, and even though it was an evening affair, we decided to take her anyway because we had the next day off. At first, she wasn’t sure what to think of the whole thing. And the clowns definitely scared her a little bit (like father, like daughter).

But as soon as that circus band struck up some music for the opening number, she started pointing and gyrating and jumping up and down and squealing as though I had slipped some meth in her sippy cup. People around us turned to look at her as she screamed her delight: roaring at the tigers, clapping at appropriate times, calling out to the aerialists as though they could see and talk to her.

She wanted to be sure everyone around us could see everything she was, so she would occasionally look around at our fellow audience members and point, “See! See!”

Halfway through the first act, Hubby pulled her to his lap for a moment to rest – she had worked up a sweat. When the confetti blast signaled the end of the first half, she was a little nervous about all the tissue paper raining down on us. But once she saw the other kids running around picking up handfuls of the stuff, she wasn’t too far behind.

She was so enthusiastic throughout the entire thing, I almost felt a little bad for the people around us – she was loud and possibly disruptive to their circus-watching experience. But I decided I needed to get over it – it was a kids’ event, right?

When we finally got her out of the arena, she pointed at every elephant or horse sign she saw on the way to the car. I was a little nervous about taking her to the circus so young, but it was definitely a good decision. When I saw how happy she was, I can’t even really describe it. It’s exactly the kind of experience I want my kids to have.

Back to the future circa 1992

Dear Teenaged Me,

You really shouldn’t worry so much. I know you worry all the time about everything from grades to friends to boys, but it really takes up way too much of your time and you should relax because you end up with a high ACT score, have an awesome college experience and marry a great guy who actually changes his speech patterns because you once said you were annoyed by a particular phrase.

Spend more time with Dad, because in your mid-20s he’s going to move to Florida and you’re going to miss him a lot. Also, tell your sister to snap the hell out of it in 2000-2001. You wanted to, but you were scared of her. I think she’d probably have thanked you. And try to get to know your brother as an adult because after he gets married he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.

Stop trying to be in the popular group. Claire and Betsy don’t care about you and won’t be your friend 10 years from now. Kari and Peri and Angie will still be in your life, though it is peripherally because let’s face it, it’s hard to be hundreds of miles apart and all moms on top of the distance. Also, it is highly probable that Erin Davidson called the cops on you once in college, though you have no proof.

You get nominated for Homecoming Queen, but you don’t win. Remember that it is a huge honor, especially for you, to be nominated.

Stand your ground on the no-alcohol-and-drugs thing, at least until college. You will be very proud of that one day. Also, don’t take that extra nitrous balloon hit at The Pit in 1995. You will regret it.

Cheers!

The Future You

PS Scott, Nick, Dave K., and Dave T. all turn out to be assholes who break your heart. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Also, Chris is a great guy and don’t be so mean to him.

This post is brought to you by the Mom’s Daily Dose Secret Awesome Group of Awesome Blogging Power writer’s challenge. You should totally join. All the kids are doing it.

10 reasons I am totally awesome and for once not sarcastic

Erin totally tagged me for this meme. She is the one and only person who has ever tagged me, and seeing as how we are also related, I thought I would comply. Also, she seemed to have good self-esteem results from it, so I think we could always use a boost, right? 

1.     I am a good mom – At least, I think I am. And my husband says that I am. I still have all the normal OMG-I-am-ruining-her-life moments, but overall, I think I am raising a happy, secure, adventurous little girl.

2.     I am loyal – to my job, my employer, my (few) friends, my family. I won’t be walked all over, but I am not the kind of person who will stab you in the back while giving you a hug.

3.     I have a strong work ethic – Like Erin, I work hard, harder than most, and I really care about my job. I often go the extra mile for my Workplace, even when it goes unnoticed. Hubby sometimes thinks I’m crazy for all I do, but I think it’s been noticed and appreciated.

4.     I like taking care of my family – The fact that I bring home a paycheck and still manage to make dinner 90 percent of the time, do the laundry and the ironing and parenting and (some) cleaning makes me very proud. Sometimes it makes me very tired and crabby, but mostly it’s the proud thing.

5.     I am open – to trying new things, hearing new ideas, tasting new food, different schools of thought, different religions, different politics, different ways of doing things. Now, this comes with the caveat that I do have my own strong beliefs that I generally won’t compromise, but I am not going to write you off simply because we disagree.

6.     I am easy to get along with – I get along with 42 of the 43 people in our “group” at work. And the 43^rd person doesn’t know I don’t care for her, so I must be doing something right. I’ve always found that it’s easier to get your work done if you don’t make enemies. Even if you really don’t like someone.

7.     I took piano lessons for 14 years – Granted, this is a reach, but I like this about myself on several levels: it shows I can commit to something and continue to improve myself. Also, I like being able to play because it can be a great stress reliever and it impresses people who had no idea I had the skill.

8.     I put my family before myself – I’d rather my daughter or my husband get something new or go someplace cool than me. I’ve got an ulterior motive, really – I just want them to be happy so they will love me and each other more. Does that even make any sense?

9.     I am dependable – If I say I’m going to do something, I do it. I am accountable to myself and my word.

10.  I am kind – at least, I try to be. I have to be pushed pretty hard to be rude or mean or impolite. I always try to make other people feel comfortable, and I like to do nice, anonymous things. 

This was a lot harder than I thought it would be. It took me about 50 minutes to complete (with one bathroom break). I got stumped after #3 and took a long break after #4, then after #6 I started thinking about all the things I don’t like about myself and got depressed. For example: I can be snobby and judgmental. I like things done my way. I tend to get snappy when I’m tired.  See, much easier to go the other way.

 I’m still too shy to tag anyone. But I’d encourage you to try it. You might be surprised.

wood, clocks or baseball tickets

This weekend, Hubby and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary at (where else?) the ballpark. We also celebrated our third anniversary at the ballpark. I’m thinking we should make this an every-odd-year excursion.

It was awesome – we were at Wrigley Field in the last weeks of a division race. For once, we had beautiful weather. We were in the bleachers, and the national anthem was awesome, followed by an F-18 flyover and, a few hours later, Cubs Win! Cubs Win! And the party was on at the Cubby Bear.

Disclaimer: Hubby is a St. Louis Cardinals fan. Yes, it causes some strain in the marriage, but we have learned to deal with it in the last five years. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you thinking he cheered for the Cubs.

While all that was fun, the best part was that I got to share it with the greatest guy in the world. He has made me a better person. Where I am tightly-wound, he is laid back. Where I sometimes let my worries get in the way of a good time, he convinces me to relax and have a good time. Without him, I fear I would be a tangled mess of nerves 24-7.

He is willing to take charge when I am afraid of confrontation. He is smart and sexy and caring. He (mostly) has patience for me when I am being difficult or argumentative or just plain mean. He helps me keep life in perspective.

Watching him with our daughter sometimes brings a tear to my eye. He didn’t have the best childhood, and he so wants to give Angel Face everything that he did not have.  

Without this man, I would clearly be a mess. But more important, without this man, I would not be the person that I am. He is my partner, my friend, my all. I love him. 

Momma said knock me out

When I was a kid, I was generally very meek and obedient and did as I was told. At least that’s what I hear. I was quiet and shy and desperately wanted to please my parents. I got good grades, didn’t get in trouble and worried about everything from Cold Facts in first grade to the ACT in 11^th grade (some things never change). All in all, I was a very well-behaved child. 

So why is it that my child is… not?  Why is she (gulp…. pause… sigh) a hitter? 

Yesterday, when I picked Angel Face up at day care, our babysitter informed me that yes, another little girl used to be the most aggressive and, dare she say it, bratty, but now, my little Angel Face was the queen bee in the brat category. I can’t say I’m surprised. Whenever anything at home displeases her more than a smidgen, her first instinct seems to be to lash out, generally with an open hand, and generally at the face of the person who has caused her displeasure (me). 

This has led to more “time-outs” in our household than I can count (including one that occurred before 6:30 a.m. today). Some people say that time-outs start working at 18 months, other schools of thought say 2 ½ years. I can’t tell if they are having any impact. Sometimes she cries and screams throughout, but the last two times she has sat peacefully until I released her, giving me a smile and a big hug when she was done. 

What exactly does that mean? Does it mean ‘I’m sorry mommy’? Or does it mean, that was fun, I like sitting quietly sometimes and I’m not thinking about the fact that I hit you at all and I’ll probably do it again in 20 minutes? Because that? Would not be cool.

On behalf of those who suffer from morning sickness

I had terrible morning sickness. Anyone who lived/worked/talked with me during the first 24 weeks of my pregnancy knows that. But saying that to someone who either didn’t have the same caliber of morning sickness (or any at all) or doesn’t know anyone who did doesn’t seem to convey much meaning. 

Take, for example, my mother. Now, I love my mother, but when I was throwing up in my trash can at work multiple times a day, she actually said to me, “Mind over matter, Michelle.” 

Mind over matter? Mind over matter? Seriously? Mom must not have actually LAID DOWN ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR WHILE BLOW-DRYING HER HAIR as I did, more than once, during the early stages of pregnancy. You know, before I started to show and couldn’t get down there (or up again) without help. Then I stopped blow drying my hair altogether. Besides, who cares if a hugely pregnant woman has frizzy hair or not? (I also stopped wearing contacts because my eyes got so dried out, but I don’t think that was related to the morning sickness…) 

A former co-worker told me that all that ‘mind over matter’ crap was just that: crap, and I should just let myself throw up if I felt like it. She said that when she was pregnant she kept a bag in her car for puking emergencies during her commute to work. Of course, she told me that after I had vomited out my car window at a stoplight. Thank God the urge didn’t come while I was on the interstate. 

Apparently little-known morning sickness facts: 1. It is not confined to the morning hours. That is the cruelest joke of all. 2. It is not confined to the first trimester of pregnancy. Some women (thankfully not me) have it the entire pregnancy. 3. You can not wish, think, will it away. If we could, don’t you think we would? 4. If you eat a little something first thing in the morning and get moving, it does not always help. 5. Ginger, sea-sickness bands, flat soda, crackers, eating small meals and snacks, naps, getting out of bed slowly, and mind over matter MAY NOT WORK. 6. Generally, every woman will know what eases the nausea a little bit for her. For me it was milk. We are willing to take suggestions, but don’t be hurt if it doesn’t work for us. 

I eventually got a super-strong anti-nausea medication from my obstetrician. And it worked pretty well, though there was a terrible stretch in July that the queasiness was overwhelming. But at least I got to find out that if you ever feel sick on an airplane and you think the regular air-sickness bag won’t be enough, they do, in fact, have super-size puke bags. And the flight attendants will also get you ginger ale even if they are not serving beverages to anyone else because you are flying over the remnants of Hurricane Dennis (Delta Airlines). 

Now, for as clearly as I remember all of this, and as clearly as I’m sure my husband remembers the ONE TIME he had to clean up my vomit (of all the literally scores of times I threw up from May 15-September 26, 2005, I think the fact that he had to clean it only once is pretty good on my part), I would not hesitate to do it all again. Not even a little bit.

Learned fears

Yesterday afternoon, I was at work and in the office of one of my friends. She was telling me a story about how she got this awesome deal on peanut butter cups at Meijer that morning when she opened up her drawer to show me…. 

A mouse was hanging precariously on the back side of her desk drawer. 

A mouse, people. 

A real, living, breathing mouse. 

Of course, we screamed and ran. A woman down the hall hurtled out of her office as well, asking if it was a mouse. That kind of makes me wonder if they’ve had this problem before. 

My friend and I decided that it was a cute little mouse, small and grey and shiny, and had we not encountered it in such an unexpected place we might have liked to pet it. Except for the fact that I’m afraid of rabid mouse bites.  

I’m sure the mouse would have delighted Angel Face. The other day, a locust or a cicada or whatever was perched to our fence, and Hubby called Angel Face over and she immediately reached out to touch it, and shrieked with laughter when it moved and eventually flew away. 

It makes me wonder where we pick up this fear of creepy-crawlies. Because that kid, she’s ain’t afraid of anything (except maybe the music that plays when she goes #2 in her potty).

Thanks and new crisis intervention needed

I am happy to report that I had a wonderful weekend with Angel Face. Daddy went camping, so it was just the two of us from Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon.

We went to the Children’s Museum and played with the other kids and participated in story time and stared at this huge taxidermy polar bear for at least 15 minutes. She loved that bear. She loved it so much that when Mommy told her she could have anything in the entire museum gift shop, she chose a 50-cent postcard depicting the bear and kissed it repeatedly on the way to the car, all whilst repeating “beah” and holding up the card for Mommy to kiss also. (The card is currently on my back floorboard and when I showed it to her yesterday, she threw it on the ground. So fickle is child!)

We ordered pizza and ate it on her princess table and chairs in front of the television. She helped make pancakes for breakfast and meatballs for dinner. We went for long walks and to the park and to the Zionsville Fall Festival. It was totally awesome.

She has learned to say “Sit down” and “Get up,” both very useful when your Mommy is either a). Busy doing something and unable to sit down on the floor to play with you or b). Very tired and just wants to rest for minute before dancing to Skip to My Lou for the eighty billionth time. Thanks so much.

I’ve tried the transition time that you all suggested, and it’s mostly worked. Sometimes she still doesn’t want to leave. And yesterday it about broke my heart when her two little “friends” waved to her from the door, calling out after her, “bye! Bye!” and she turned around, waved at them and plaintively said, “Bye.” Poor kiddo.  

Since then, I’ve had a very difficult time at work, which I shall not talk about because of the Golden Blog Rule and also the thing called Company Blogging Policy for Employees that is posted on our intranet site. Suffice it to say that at one point I crazily thought my job was in jeopardy, and I have needed copious amounts of a.) vodka b.) Lunestra c.) pain relievers left over from my C-section and d.) All of the above, in order to get even five hours of sleep a night. This situation should be resolved on Monday, which still leaves four sleepless nights, but I think I can handle it.

Anyway – I need some advice on something, and if any of you out there have not completely given up on me for not updating for a week, can you help? We are looking to switch our child care situation. Right now, we go to a home day care and we LOVE our babysitter very much. However, at our last doctor’s appointment, the pediatrician indicated that Angel Face is VERY FAR AHEAD developmentally (making up for the slowness in physical development, I suppose), and we’d like to get her into a program that includes some teaching element.

Now I have some angst over this, for a number of reasons:

1.     How do we make the switch? Do we just drop her off at the new place one day, cold turkey?

2.     How do I tell our babysitter, who is like a part of our family? She suspects already, I think, so this wouldn’t be as traumatic as I once thought, but still…

3.     What about her friends at the old day care? Should I give my contact information to our babysitter so she can pass it along to the other mothers to see if they want to get together?

4.     Also, we plan to move at some point in the next two-three years. Is it crazy to change her day care now and then have to change later?5.     If you were looking at two day cares, and one was a lot nicer than the other, but they are the two best you’ve seen and you’d be comfortable with your kid at either one, would you wait until spring for the much-nicer one (with a waiting list) or go to the other one right away? And if you went to the other one right away, would you then switch again in the spring? This seems unnecessary to me…

Help!

it’s not all hugs and kisses

Every day for the last, oh, ten days or so, I have arrived at day care to swoop Angel Face up in my motherly affection and whisk her away to the joyful dwelling that is our homestead only to be met with Unmitigated Grief and Absolute Despair that slowly devolves into All-Encompassing Anger and, eventually, the Temper Tantrum From Hell. 

And I’m not saying it’s happened once, or even twice. It’s Every. Damn. Day. Mommy’s here? Oh Woe and Affliction. Yesterday, I thought I was going to get out of there unscathed, but the crying (eventually morphing into red-faced screaming accompanied by Real Tears and Rivers of Snot) started when we got to the car. And I even let her walk herself. 

I know it’s probably just a phase. But it’s really starting to depress me. I used to look forward to that moment of reunification all day. Now, it’s like the time goes so quickly at work I don’t even have a chance to savor the ability to hear myself think. And then I feel guilty for dreading it, because I’m her MOTHER and MY GOD, I shouldn’t hate spending time with her. I get so little of it as it is. 

Two days ago, when the tantrum was peppered by Exorcist-like screams of “No!” at no one and nothing in particular, I couldn’t help it – I started to cry myself. I sat in the front seat of the car, clutching my steering wheel and let go. I felt like the biggest failure – I didn’t make my kid happy anymore. She’s not glad to see me. She wishes I would leave her with the babysitter. She hits me in the face and then bites me when I try to punish her with a time-out. Is this the terrible twos? Aren’t we a little early for that? 

Later on, in the bath tub, Angel face held out her palm for me to kiss – she has an “owie” and she likes for Mommy to kiss it. Then, as I spread the Baby Magic bubbles over her arm, she noticed I had an “owie” on the back of my hand – and leaned down to kiss it. 

It almost made the last two hours worth it. Almost.