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Starting Over Fresh Wednesday October 6, 2010

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It’s been almost a year since I wrote in this Journal.  What a year it’s been too!  The girlies have all grown so much, physically and emotionally.  I’ve gone through so many changes I can’t even name them all off the bat.

I’ve become hopelessly addicted to this awful Zynga game Mafia Wars on Facebook  *laugh*  It’s all about amassing power and “icing” people.  Didn’t take a psych degree to figure out I was trying to gain some power of my own and feel like I had some control over my anger issues.  It seems to be working though, and I’ve made some good, no, great friends.  It’s a nice distraction.

I’ll write more as soon as I get over the shock of finally being allowed BACK on Spaces just in time to move my beloved Gingerbread Man to WordPress.   Heh…something new to learn to use!


Never ending? Wednesday October 21, 2009

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I am beginning to wonder if this up-front pain of the abuse our family has taken from my parents is ever going to end.  Emily is having such a terrible time with it now:  she’s dealing with it in therapy and it’s bringing it out to the surface and all the hurt and anguish she’s been stuffing for the past year and a half is pouring out of her-wave after wave.  It’s just fresh screaming torture for me, seeing and feeling her so hurt, knowing there’s only so much I can do beyond telling her over and over again how much I love her, how none of this is her fault.  Not what he did, not how her Nana has rejected us all to keep her status secure, the new rejection of my brother under the excuse that we’ve upset his mother so much.  Dear Lord.  How do you explain to a girl why anyone would worry about an old woman’s feelings who is protecting a pervert and never stops to ask how the survivor of the abuse is doing?  She feels SO unloved by that family.  All I can do is share that with her, because of course, all of us do here.  We’re all abandoned.  We’ve all been told we’re not the side to pick.  But she was the one who was hurt, and I just want to go and mow them all down and burn their bodies when I think of her crying over their rejection of her.

All I can do is cry with her, cry alone, and promise her her Momma would never, will never stop loving her for anyone, any thing, any reason.  And hope that those people haven’t destroyed her trust and faith so deeply that she believes me.

The End in the Beginning or the other way ’round Tuesday September 22, 2009

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Well, we got the twins 16th birthday celebrations done, finally.  It was kind of our normal bizarre:  twisted note from the Nana who has abdicated saying she treasures her memories of them.  No mention of the word love, no gift.  Just pissed the girls off (really I think they were deeply hurt since they noted aloud there was no L-Word).  So, they asked for and were granted permission to have a little bar-b-q outside with that mess.  They DID get to spend tons of time with their boyfriends, and then they had the traditional, time-honored girls-only sleepover.  Jess is taking them this weekend for a sleepover at her place in BG so she can take them to the big mall and spend some time and money on them.  Driving permits are just a few weeks away. 

They were both accepted into this really great program for high school students, Upward Bound . They offer tutoring if needed, help the students find grants, take the kids on college tours, prep them for ACT and SAT’s, and take them on amazing trips each summer.  Last year the group went to L.A.!  It’s all FREE, so Momma says "Yes, Lawd!" And on top of that, the kids get a stipend each month if they fulfill their requirements so it’s like they’re paying the girls to get tutored and go on trips.  I’m so so grateful.  This is exactly what Katie needs to find the perfect place for her, and just the impetus to get Emmy really motivated and moving…sometimes I worry this relationship with Jeremy has her sidetracked into thinking she’s not really going to finish college.  Silly girl doesn’t believe the threat that I’ll enroll just to drag her ass to class all 4 years.  Like she hasn’t lived with me all this time now?

Libby’s hit 8th grade with a vengeance:  she’s got the look down, has her posse at her back and is ready to make sure she’s got all the best grades going into high school next year.  She even snagged herself a boyfriend who likes kittens as much as she does, which worries me only a wee bit.  She’s full-blown into the Archery club, already shopping for her own bow and bouncing off the wall because Nationals are in California this year.  Last year they placed really well in State and were invited to Nat’ls but we declined because of the cost.  Hopefully this year, with the High School taking the sport up too, we’ll have the funding to send them all on.  It’s great to see her really pumped about something after she lost her love for softball.  It’s sad when adults playing power games screw up a game for the kids so much they don’t even want to play it anymore. 

Laura’s hearing tests came back great, she did much, much better on her last test so we’re so relieved.  She’s still grousing about having to wear earplugs in the tub, but she’ll get used to it, and I know she’ll eventually figure out it’s nice NOT having infections every 3 weeks or so.  She’s doing great in school.  Her conduct reports were all "Exceeds Expectations", so we were a little confused at first of course, La being La, but then I went to lunch with her a few times and now I understand.  She is ensconsed in a class full of first class screeching demons.  They make even my flying monkey look good. 

What’ve I been doing with my free time?  It’s sad, really.  Nothing.  Vegging.  Nothing productive.  Nothing educational.  I’ve managed to become addicted to the television show Bones and I watch a little more CSI: Miami than I used to do.  I spent some time worrying how badly they were going to screw up House this season since they seem determined to tank what used to be the best show on television, but I feel a little better after last night’s premier episode.  I’ve been writing A LITTLE, but only when Mike is out of the house and I’ll know he’s going to be gone for a while, I hate to finally get settled into the groove and hear the door slam and have to jump out of my world.  So that’s going slowly.  Sometimes I think the world is trying to tell me I’m not supposed to write this book after all.  And sometimes I think I’m just lazy.


Laura’s all better =) Friday September 11, 2009

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Amazing what a couple of tiny tubes will do for a child’s hearing, isn’t it?  Her surgery Tuesday went wonderfully-she was jumping on the bed like a trampolinist 5 hours later and making me wish I’d just sent her on to school!  She still had a lot of infection in her left ear even when they went in for the placement, so much so they couldn’t get it all out, so she’s on antibiotic ear drops for a week-and so far that’s been her biggest complaint:  being still long enough for the drops! 

I finally after a few weeks of sitting for Serenity decided I was going to drop that after all.  Her mom was trying to take advantage of me big time in quite a few ways, and I came to realize how over being tied down to the house with a baby I really was.  Wow, what a freeing realization that was!  With most of my illnesses finally behind me I’m really free to decide what I want to do with my time for once, and I just don’t want to go the little baby route again.  Is that awful?

Jessica has dropped the bomb on us that she and Landon are getting married in December.  I think I mentioned this once before maybe…  The kicker is she’s getting married on the 18th…the day after Laura’s birthday.  The day BEFORE Jess graduates from college.  One week before Christmas.  Then she tells me they’ll be getting married at her father’s parents house since his folks have such a hard time getting around.  Ick.  ANNNDDDD  then she and Landon will be leaving for MINNESOTA for the holidays!!!!

I think she’s trying to kill me.  Funny, I always thought La would be the one to off me, didn’t you?

Love and Blessings!

Hello, My Name is Lynn, and I…. Thursday August 27, 2009

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am going to try like the dickens to start posting here regularly again.  No, really….don’t walk away shaking your head in disbelief.  I can do it, I know I can! 

It’s been a whirlwind of confusion and activity ’round here, big surprise, no?   All the kids started school on the fifth of August:  Katie and Emily are Juniors now (EEKKK!!  All I hear from them is "One more year and we’re off to college, Mom!"), Libby has started eighth grade, and Laura has embarked upon her kindergarten adventures.  I can’t believe she’s taking it so well.

Of course, La being La, she’s missed almost as much school as she’s attended due to her ear infections AGAIN.   THREE separate incidents since school started.  She’s got her second ENT appointment on the first of Sept, and I am really hoping he’s just going to decide to tube her.  I know she’ll go through hell dealing with the placement, but 8 ear infections or more a year?  Every year?!  This is just ridiculous!

I’ve started babysitting the eight week old daughter of Laura’s teacher from HeadStart last year.  Little Serenity is a doll, but naming kids things like that always seem to backfire.  This child is anything but Serene.  Or that could be the influence of Mommy, Daddy and Big Brother never letting the kid’s head touch a blanket or surface.  I’m trying to get her on a schedule now, but had forgotten that special hell of "letting them cry it out".  Ugh.

Okay, baby crying and almost time for Laura’s last check-up before she goes back to school for the first time this week.  Poor baby(s).

Love and Blessings!

And I’m back again Monday July 13, 2009

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Lordy be, what a month!  And it’s not even half-over yet, huh?
I just got out of the hospital (yet again) a few days ago, but BOY do I feel better!  Better than in the past year, actually.  All it took was two pints of blood, 3 days on fluids and getting off all the meds I’ve been on for the past 3 years. 
Apparently, there’s something going on with my colon, the large one, that they’re going to pinpoint soon, thank goodness.  I’m ready to be and stay all better physically after all the drama all this time.  They’ve even found a medication I can take for my migraines that actually STOPS the headache within an hour.  Holy moly, but I’ve hit the jackpot at last.
Annie’s doing great, watching over the only pup we kept like a good, overly-attentive mom.  The brat king pup is finally figuring out where to go do his business.  That stress was nice to shed.
I’m working on the mental/emotional disaster that has been my life for the past year with my parents.  It’s amazing how much things change when you can look at the situation and laugh, isn’t it?  I had a couple conversations with my father that had me laughing in relief…he’s so damn sick.  Once I figured that out and stopped looking at it personally, it took so much off me.  Emmy’s healing, and that is what matters most to me.  My mother?  Lost cause.  I’ve accepted that at last, I think.  It takes a great deal to get over the hurt of her rejection of my girls…but once I realized THAT what was driving me hardest and hurting the deepest, it was so much easier to figure out how to heal from it.  I guess I feel sorry for her.  What does she have?  A sick husband who wants to see his daughter’s breasts so much he’s now asking for a drive-by flash ("Who can it hurt, Lynn?)  The situation is so ludicrous I have to laugh.
Turning everything over to a higher power and just letting it all go has helped tremendously.  I have to thank ‘Rett for that, for leading me in the right direction, for offering all his help and resources.  I took your advice, ‘Rett, and it did me wonders.  Thank you so much for caring and helping me.
We even made it to the lake once so far this summer!  Woo Hoo, considering the kind of shape I’ve been in.  The big girls are off on a mini-vacation being spoiled by some relatives, La and I have planned a "Monday Fun-Day", and even Mike isn’t so horribly insufferable now that I’m feeling physically up to par.  Now just to figure out what to do about THAT relationship long-term.
I love you people.  "Ever’ damn one of ya’" as someone I know likes to say. 
Back soon.  Blessings!

Blessings on Dr. Green Monday June 22, 2009

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Annie’s doing better
now.  Thank heavens for Dr. Green!  The part I’d left out because I was
such a wreck Saturday was the problem of having $350.00 in the bank at
the drop of the hat to pay for the surgery.  I had $50 on my bank card
thinking she just needed some phenegran or something simple.  All the
banks were closed already.  The doctor told me I could pay the rest of
the charges for the day ( another $90) Monday but that she needed the

 Mike blew a gasket when I called and told him how much the
surgery was.  I almost understand how he felt…$350 is a lot of money,
and we’d just replaced the transmission in his truck last week AND
bought a used van for me ( a CHEAP van, but nonetheless, money we
didn’t usually put out).  But this was Annie!!! 
I told the vet I would pay the rest of it the first when my SSI comes
in.  He looked me in the eyes and asked me, "WILL you pay it then,
because I’m carrying thousands of dollars on the books from people
who’ve told me that".  I’d been crying and hugging Annie since he’d
drawn blood on her 20 minutes earlier to see just how bad the infection
was, I had almost collapsed in horror when he told me she needed the
surgery NOW because it was so bad.  I choked out how YES YES YES I
would pay him the first, as soon as his doors opened.

I don’t know what made him believe me.  I don’t even know if he did. 
Perhaps he just loves animals so much he couldn’t send one home to die
when someone promised to pay.  But thanks to him, she had her surgery. 
He called me early Sunday morning and asked me if I was ready to pick
up my girl.  I laughed and said I’d be there in 10 minutes.  He called
twice to check on her too.  I hope everyone who has a beloved pet has a vet as wonderful as our Dr. Green.

My Annie is safe and home.  Puts so much in perspective about what is important.

A Prayer for Annie Saturday June 20, 2009

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I know a lot of people really don’t like it when we ask for prayer requests.
It seems even worse to ask for a prayer for a dog.

I don’t care.  This is my dog, and I’m asking for prayers for her.
We just lost Jack a year ago, and I don’t know how we’d go on if we lost Annie now too, especially with her 3 week old puppies to care for.
Really, the heck with the puppies, we’d deal….I just don’t know if I could carry the heartbreak of losing Annie.  She’s my girl.

Woke up this morning to her clear vomitting.  Everywhere.  Over and over again.  She’s had a hard time keeping up with milk production for all those pups, but I figured, who wouldn’t?  We’ve been trying to wean them slowly so she’d have a break, but this constant vomiting had me really worried.  I called the vet and he said to bring her in NOW.

Uterine infection.  He’s doing surgery on her now.  That 30 minutes it took for all the bloodwork to come back took a lot out of me.  I did a lot of praying, a lot of crying, a lot of telling her how much I love her, a lot of wishing I’d had the chance to tell Jack all those things before he died of poisoning, in agony.

Hug your animals today, your kids, someone you love.  You just never know when you’re going to be praying over one of them waiting for a doctor to tell you just how bad it is.  I love you.

“Information Please” Tuesday June 16, 2009

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When James
was quite young, his father had one of the first telephones in our
neighborhood. He remembers the polished, old case fastened to the wall.
The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. He was too little to
reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when his
mother talked to it.

Then I
discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing
person. Her name was ‘Information Please’ and there was nothing she did
not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the
correct time.

My personal experience with
the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a
neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked
my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no
point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house
sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The
telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged
it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor
and held it to my ear. ‘Information, please’ I said into the mouthpiece
just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
‘I hurt my finger…’ I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

‘Isn’t your mother home?’ came the question.

‘Nobody’s home but me,’ I blubbered.

‘Are you bleeding?’ the voice asked.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.’
‘Can you open the icebox?’ she asked.
I said I could.

‘Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,’ said the voice.

After that, I called
‘Information Please’ for everything. I asked her for help with my
geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with
my math.

She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called,
Information Please,’ and
told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups
say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, ‘Why is it
that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families,
only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?’

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ‘James, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.’

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, ‘Information Please.’
‘Information,’ said in the now familiar voice. ‘How do I spell fix?’ I asked.
All this took place in a
small town in the Pacific Northwest .

When I was nine years old, we
moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.
‘Information Please’  belonged in that old wooden box back home and I
somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the
table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those
childhood conversations never really left me..

Often, in moments of doubt
and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then.
I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have
spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my
way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a
half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone
with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was
doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, ‘Information Please.’

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, ‘Could you please tell me how to spell fix?’

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, ‘I guess your finger must have healed by now.’

I laughed, ‘So it’s really you,’ I said. ‘I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?’

”I wonder,’ she said, ”if you know how much your call meant to me.
I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.’
I told her how often I had
thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again
when I came back to visit my sister.

‘Please do’, she said. ‘Just ask for Sally.’

Three months later I was back in Seattle .. A different voice answered,
‘Information.’ I asked for Sally.
‘Are you a friend?’ she said.

‘Yes, a very old friend,’ I answered.

‘I’m sorry to have to tell
you this,’ she said. ‘Sally had been working part-time the last few
years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.’

Before I could hang up she said, ‘Wait a minute, did you say your name was James?’
‘Yes.’ I answered.
‘Well, Sally left a message for you.. She wrote it down in case you called.

Let me read it to you.’
The note said, ‘Tell him there are other worlds to sing in.
He’ll know what I mean.’
I thanked her and hung up.. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today?

I don’t know the author

Love to you all,

Crappy Memory Sunday June 14, 2009

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Some days just shouldn’t go by "anniversary".  Like Friday’s.  A year ago my father, Emily’s Poppa, decided he wanted to check out my naked breasts and feel Emmy up.  He effectively ended a long and loving family relationship I had not only with him, my nuclear family with my parents and my brothers, their wives and my nephews, but my touchstone holiday traditions that meant everything to me.  AND my big family traditions.  It’s almost unbearable to go to the big family gatherings now without squirming and flinching constantly-everyone knows I am no longer in contact with my parents, and they all want to know WHY, and since they sure as heck aren’t talking, they worry me to death about it.

Not to mention the gut-wrenching, core-deep pain.  Pain doesn’t even touch the word for it.  To say my parents are dead to me is to make it ridiculous.  Parents who’ve died, after the grieving process leave good memories behind. You can eventually share good feelings with your siblings and relatives about them.  You can go to a memorial plaque, a headstone.  I have none of that.  I just have all this all encompassing PAIN that Mike doesn’t understand because he didn’t have a real relationship with his mother and hated his step-father.  He says "F*ck ’em and forget ’em, that’s what they deserve."  The girls are bitterly angry at my parents for what they did to us that day, for my mother throwing us under the bus for her husband, for my pain.  Laura asks about her Nana and Poppa, not having a clue what’s happened.  How do you explain to a 5 year old that sometimes parents stop loving their children…..when the last thing you ever want her to believe is that truth?   I’ve lived my adult life solely for the purpose of making sure my children NEVER EVER doubt I love them, no matter what. 

I’m so lost.  I talk to my brothers once in a while.  I’m going to try to throw an end of the summer party in a pool nearer where we all live and get them to come to it, sort of an early birthday present for the twins, I pray my brothers will show up.  It’ll be the first time I’ve seen them since last Thanksgiving.  I miss them.

How do you get over something like this?