Family First.

I think it's safe to say my outlook on life changes a bit when I'm feeling selfish.

Happy Go Lucky.

Ian: Mom, why are you taking this picture?
Me: Just because.....
Ian: You're going to put it on your blog, aren't you??

Um, yes, dear, I am. Party because I am nuts, and party because I feel it is my blogging/motherly duty to show my fellow mother-of-boys what can happen when little ones decided to play "cops" outside, on the drive way. Do I hear an "ouch"?

I can't believe the posts I need to comment on from you fine ladies. My google reader is bursting at the seams. My fantastic week of Spring Break has finally caught up with me, and I've started the game of catch up this week.

The house work hasn't bothered me, and I'm getting bursts of yard work done in between the mundane. My laundry is as caught up as it can be. Initially I had this mountain to fold, yet it's folded now, and I have several loads I'm working through both machines, but I'm keeping right on top of it.

If I can get my rear in gear this week I still have 2 posts from Spring Break to get together.... our zoo trip and also a post about our adventures at the carnival. Testing is upon us now at school, so we've been busily studying in preparation.

I've got dinner planned out for tonight.... pork chops, mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli. We're going to make no-bake cookies for dessert, or bake a cake.

Filling my role as Betty Crocker this week, thus far, has been a pleasure. I'll take these days as they come.... some days that kind of attitude doesn't come around often enough.

On a more serious note, I've appreciated your comments on my last post, in regards to the Dr. Phil special outing a suspected pedophile. While I know there are scads of information out there about sexual abuse, I encourage you to educate yourselves more and more. It is FAR more likely that your child is to be molested by some one you KNOW... a family member or friend of the family. Know the warning signs and the dangers. Admittedly, shows of such content, make me ill and uncomfortable just as they make you, but I find them a good reminder to know that the evil exists, and not only exists, but is extremely prevalent. Surviving sexual abuse myself, it is one of my many missions in life to protect my children from the same harm.

Look forward to catching up on my blog reads later tonight.

Victory!

Look at who's in the bathtub with Ian! It's OLIVIA. This is the first time this child had enjoyed a bubble bath in months. Olivia started out hating bath time as an infant. Then she adored it, hated it again, and now we're back to the loving end of the rope. I hope this time it'll stick. I could not have enjoyed bathing the children more yesterday morning. Watching Olivia splash, play, giggle, and dump water every where couldn't have brought me more joy. Bath time is such a nice "time out" for all of us. The kids can play and get clean at the same time, and it buys me an hour of sitting and catching my breath. I'm loving it.

Did any one catch Dr. Phil yesterday? I never watch him. My "break" is generally earlier in the day when Olivia naps, and by the time 3pm rolls around, the kids will be home from school in a hour, and we're thick in chores, toys, and snacks. Tuesday or Wednesday I saw the preview for the show, and decided to make sure to watch. It was about a woman who's son is acting out sexually, and is suspected of being abused by his grandfather. This woman also was molested by her father. Her father joins the show, and the confrontation begins. Part two is on today.

The woman described her feeling the evilness of her father. It was so interesting how she put her feelings into words, because I, too, have described the man who molested me the very same way. When we are finally able to move out of this man's house, I remember him clutching my little body close to his and saying good bye. I remember feeling evil radiate from his body, and remember wishing to be put down, knowing this man was consumed by the adversary.

I felt literally ill, right along with that woman, through the entire show. And her father was so obviously sick that it was hard for me to watch him. How very sick a person must be to assault a child, molest her/him, take a child's innocence away. Sexual abuse has such severe repercussions in the victim's life, the suffering is indescribable. I feel it deep in my soul, in my worth as a woman. The healing for me, thus far, has been life long.

I'm going to watch part two today, mainly because there is some thing sweet in seeing justice be passed to a victim, and some thing sweet seeing the perpetrator brought to restitution's door.
I wish more then any thing, every victim had their very own sweet taste of victory in their own lives, but sadly, most suffer in silence. Let us all guard ourselves, and our own children just a little bit more.


Update: My feelings after watching part two of the Dr. Phil special:
I am truly horrified. What amazed me what how truly sick that man is, in EVERY sense of the word. Truly, truly sick, as are all pedophiles. I have to admit, I am sitting here numb, with my mind spinning. Words can't express..... mainly because I have felt EVERY thing that was expressed on that show. Some times things just don't fit into a nice tidy box, where I try to keep my emotions. This is exactly why I am, at times, lost in my attempts to keep my children safe or have lost it when I felt like they have been endangered. Because I know, first hand, the suffering that could follow. To imagine my children suffering the same, it brings me to my knees.

Overrated.

Here is my little Olivia, sleeping, yet again at 9:00am. I'm hoping she soon discovers that getting up at 5am is overrated. Very.


I've been thinking, yet again, about blogging, and about the aspect of while posting, it makes me feel vulnerable. I find myself worrying that I may write too much, too little. I worry that some lose interest in reading. I worry if I'm sharing too much of myself. What if I am? It that a smart choice?

And while I was becoming more and more concerned about those of you that read my blog, I stopped myself, reigned myself in, and realized that really..... it's not about the me and you, is it? This is one place where I get to take FULL credit. This is my safe haven to share, where I should throw caution to the wind, and purge with out fear of offending or boring or misunderstanding. This is my safe place to continue on the road to healing, which I fully intend to do.... with a little less worry of the "you and me" and a little more worry about my soul and my recovery. I've been so touched to have you with me, and if you still want to, let's carry on... together.

Love me the same?

I have found over the years that being abused extensively during my childhood has made my relationships complicated. And not so much my relationship with my husband, but more specifically friendships.

There is the fine dance of getting brave enough to trust in some one. The fine dance of balancing my very real fear of abandonment, and learning when the fear requires real action or needs to be balanced with reality.

I have also found it very hard over the years to "love" in the correct balance or in way that another can understand easily. I have a lot of questions, a lot of fears.

It's been a struggle to find understanding in another who can genuinely whole heartedly love me in return.

It feel frustrated much of the time, because all I have wanted me entire life is love. All I've ever wanted is my own mother and father. All I ever wanted was to feel safe and accepted and secure in unconditional love. I wish, more often, that people could appreciate that about me.

When you have no one, it's another that you can love intensely. Friends to me, especially while growing up, I loved with a fierceness that isn't easy to explain. So many people saved from certain grief and turmoil, and I love them for that. Yet I can't expect them to love me the same way in return.

I have struggled with feeling cheated. I can be loved as a friend, but not as another's family, because family comes first. Tell me, then, what happens when you have none or no one else.

It has been humiliating to me in the past to appear needy, misunderstood, and damaged.

I am eternally grateful for my children and husband. But you know what I wanted, too...... was parents. I wanted a mother and a father. I wanted siblings that I was closer to. I wanted an extended family to wrap myself up in. I want what many other's have. I have wanted to be loved the same way other's have been loved, but am excluded from that now because I was less fortunate.

I feel angry because it is those feelings that hold me back now. I'm for the most part, content in myself, letting few in, but the sorrow doesn't change. It angers me to be damaged from some thing that I had no control over, but yet still manages to trickle over in every single aspect of my life.

As a side note (this is from my comment section, but I wanted to throw, this, also, out there....)

I am very willing to give equally in a friendship. I wouldn't at all classify myself as "needy", either. It's an odd play on words, because we ALL are needy to a certain extent, with different needs that require meeting. I whole heartedly believe in the give and take, and I also whole heartedly have learned to rely on myself, alone, more then any thing else. I can honestly admit I don't have a lot of faith in humanity.

I don't make friends easily. It's complicated for me, and what I left out, but was trying to explain, is that I find myself loving some one else more then they love me. An individual is more important to me, then I am to them. Most other people have a larger group of friends and family..... which I lack, their "need" isn't the same as mine. What is hard for me to find is a friend that truly appreciates me for who I am, what I have endured, and despite that sees the good person and capable and loving friend that I can be, that I am.

I've found myself thinking about this more this past week when I had the opportunity to be in touch with some old "friends". I attended a camp, summers, which I thoroughly loved. It was my safe place. Of course this was when I was a teen, and treading the territory with all that comes with that..... People that I loved there, but knew little about my private life, judged me. They, at that time, called me needy, and I felt and still do feel horrible about that. They knew nothing about me, and could only see a teenage girl, looking for love and acceptance a little more then the next. Is that so wrong? Was it so wrong to look for what I had never been given?

While that hurt was re-freshened for me recently, and while I have decided to not "re-connect" with those individuals, it still does make me very frustrated. I am exhausted by trying to defend every thing about myself, over things of which I had no control over.

Some days it truly is easier to retreat and throw in the towel... because this heart, my heart just can't take much more.

Well, Thank You.

Walking in to my bedroom this evening, after getting Olivia to bed:

Ian: Good job on bed time, Mom.

Hannah and Ian: Yeah..... we heard you..... making those silly noises...... (laughing manically).......

Me: Did you hear me through the baby monitor?

Hannah and Ian: Yes we did. Mwwwwaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahahah.


Oh to have the sense of humor of a child. I couldn't help but giggle myself. Glad to know I put on a good show.

Behold Him.

If you have a moment, please click on the below link and watch this incredible slide show depicting the Savior's life. Never have I seen such magnificent photography put together in such away that makes my soul stir so.

While you've got me. Let me bear testimony of the truth there is to be found in the Son Of God. He is real, He lives. He knows each and every one of us. He touches our lives, He leads, He guides, He sooths. He truly cares. From the time I was a young child, I have felt Him by my side. Not always heeding His words and presence, what a powerful reminder of how blessed I am to know, with out a doubt, who the Son Of God is. Let us all feel Him more constantly and purely.

http://mabrystudios.typepad.com/reflections_of_christ/2008/03/reflections-sli.html

Love, Misty

Poop's Ahoy!

I know deep down you wish that on my shoe was mud. But it ain't. It's POOP. Cat poop. A whole lot of kitty crap. I was laying in bed the other night, and out of NO WHERE, the over whelming smell of poop engulfs me. I jumped out of bed, and immediately thought "One of those $%!!@## animals took a sh%t in my house". Little did I know I was about to encounter a crap attack. My freaking cat had managed to leap, bounce, roll, flip around the house with poop flying out of it's butt. There was poop every where. I kid you not. Poop on walls, all over my carpet, kitchen floor, bathroom floor, the doors, hanging coats, my shoes. I about lost it. I grabbed the closest cat, who was hiding in the closet, and found poop all over him. I threw him out the door, thus ending his reign of indoor-cat only. Then. Then, I got to work. I scrubbed, scrubbed, scrubbed, and disinfected, disinfected, disinfected, disinfected, and cleaned the carpets until, alas, there was no more sign of the doo-doo war that just took place in my house.

What about the cat, you ask? I wasn't kidding when I said he lost house privileges. He's out-ward bound now. Adjusting slowly, he is. Except he had a run in with the stray toms that run the neighborhood at night. Which nicely brings me to my next picture, which is a bottle of penicillin and a syringe/needle.

A while back, our other outdoor cat got into a cat fight and ended up with a HUGE abscess on her head. An abscess is a large pus filled lump. I took the kitty into the vets, and they quoted me TWO HUNDRED dollars to shave, drain, clean the abscess - plus a round of meds. Well, to make a long story short, I decided I would moonlight as a vet tech and take care of the damn cat myself. With a little research and a great farmers store (IFA) I rounded up the supplies and got to work. Betweens fits of gagging I managed to get the job done and taught myself how to inject a cat with antibiotics. A few days and eight bucks later, the cat was good to go.

Now, with Jake, the crap flinging cat, I'm able to treat his small cut now, which will prevent him from getting an abscess in the future. So 5 shots in 5 days, and another saved TWO HUNDRED dollars.

If that isn't being resourceful, I don't know what is. And I might add, I give a pretty mean shot.

Mmmmwwwwaaaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!



* I am still sane with all three children at home. We are still spring-breakin-it up. We managed to feed the ducks, yesterday, during a storm, and enjoyed being pelted in the face with flying bread. We'll pick a more suitable weather day next time. Our shopping trip was a delightful (gasp) success, and tomorrow.... tomorrow we are going to the CARNIVAL (can you believe my luck, it's a mile from my house) and Friday.... Friday we go to the zoo. Bring it on, people..... Bring.It.On.

Woot!

Splash on.

Today was our "fun in the sun day". Tomorrow, Tuesday, is supposed to be 50 degrees outside - a far cry from today's 80! I figured I had better get this post up tonight. Editing pictures and video clips can be very time consuming, so better this way tonight, instead of boring the kids to tears in the morning. I'm trying to get this post up before 11:30pm. Think I can beat the clock? I'm supposed to be making sure I get more sleep, but it's these nights when every one is sleeping but me... they are SO inviting. Nothing sooths the soul like a little me time.

Here is my little Olivia Mae. This tennis ball happens to be her latest treasure.

Ian - growling. I have no idea why... it's a boy thing.

Could my Hannah be more darling?

This was Olivia's get up today. She would NOT drop her towel off, and the helmet... well, I suppose it protected her from the shooting water!

And below, is another of my sweet, far too grown up, Hannah.

This picture below just tickled me. The kids walking up the drive way, hand in hand. Love them, I do.


And of course, another clip.... because really..... there are no words that can describe the fun we had with our water rocket today.


Now.... tomorrow..... Tomorrow could prove otherwise. I plan on dragging the kids out to get groceries with me. That could be dangerous, or boring, or thrilling, or maybe all three in one.

SPRING Break, BABY!

As a child I HATED when ever school was out. I hated being home, knowing that I would be shut in my bedroom the entire time. My parents didn't let us play outside. We couldn't watch tv, watch movies, listen to music, talk on the phone, have friends over, we had little or no toys. We hated school vacations and we hated when school ended for the year. Thankfully we were shipped off to camp summers, which we loved. It was such a blessing, to say the least, to be able to escape.

Now, my kids..... my kids BEG to stay home. From time to time I let them skip school, but this week is SPRING break. A whole stinkin week that we get to P-A-R-T-Y. We stay up late. We play, we giggle, we have fun, we watch movies, we snuggle, and bake, and play out side for hours.
Today is supposed to be EIGHTY degrees, baby! We are breaking out the sprinklers and we are going to have a blast.

Friday it was chilly and windy, so we did some thing I can't re-call that I have ever experienced. We FLEW kites. I should correct myself - Hannah and Ian flew kites, I had no idea what I was doing, but we managed. Below are some pictures and a short clip of our mini-adventure. I love nothing more then being able to be a big kid with my own "little-kid" children. I claim back, each time, a little some thing that I lost during my own forsaken childhood.






I edited this video so that it would be facing correctly, but it didn't work. Tilt your head, maybe? Crap. And I still have a cough.... not asthma.... although by my breathing one might wonder....

Take one for the team.

Elder Richard G. Scott

This beloved man, one of our church leaders gave a beautiful talk (lesson or sermon, if you will) on surviving abuse. While I know many of you are not Mormon (LDS), please take a minute of your time to read along. As many of you know, this most assuredly applies to me. I've only copy and pasted the words that touched me the very most. If you would like a copy of this talk in it's entirety, email me at abnmln@gmail.com, and I will happily send you a copy.

To Heal the Shattering Consequences of Abuse.

Faith in Jesus Christ and in His power to heal provides the abused with the means to overcome the terrible consequences of another’s unrighteous acts.

To the Victim

As you conscientiously study the Atonement and exercise your faith that Jesus Christ has the power to heal, you can receive the same blessed relief. During your journey of recovery, accept His invitation to let Him share your burden until you have sufficient time and strength to be healed.

To find relief from the consequences of abuse, it is helpful to understand their source. Satan is the author of all of the destructive outcomes of abuse. He has extraordinary capacity to lead an individual into blind alleys where the solution to extremely challenging problems cannot be found. His strategy is to separate the suffering soul from the healing attainable from a compassionate Heavenly Father and a loving Redeemer.

If you have been abused, Satan will strive to convince you that there is no solution. Yet he knows perfectly well that there is. Satan recognizes that healing comes through the unwavering love of Heavenly Father for each of His children. He also understands that the power of healing is inherent in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Therefore, his strategy is to do all possible to separate you from your Father and His Son. Do not let Satan convince you that you are beyond help.

Satan uses your abuse to undermine your self-confidence, destroy trust in authority, create fear, and generate feelings of despair. Abuse can damage your ability to form healthy human relationships. You must have faith that all of these negative consequences can be resolved; otherwise they will keep you from full recovery. While these outcomes have powerful influence in your life, they do not define the real you.

Satan will strive to alienate you from your Father in Heaven with the thought that if He loved you He would have prevented the tragedy. Do not be kept from the very source of true healing by the craftiness of the prince of evil and his wicked lies. Recognize that if you have feelings that you are not loved by your Father in Heaven, you are being manipulated by Satan. Even when it may seem very difficult to pray, kneel and ask Father in Heaven to give you the capacity to trust Him and to feel His love for you. Ask to come to know that His Son can heal you through His merciful Atonement.

The beginning of healing requires childlike faith in the unalterable fact that Father in Heaven loves you and has supplied a way to heal. His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, laid down His life to provide that healing. But there is no magic solution, no simple balm to provide healing, nor is there an easy path to the complete remedy. The cure requires profound faith in Jesus Christ and in His infinite capacity to heal. It is rooted in an understanding of doctrine and a resolute determination to follow it.

If you are currently being abused or have been in the past, find the courage to seek help. You may have been severely threatened or caused to fear so that you would not reveal the abuse. Have the courage to act now. Seek the support of someone you can trust. Your bishop or stake president can give you valuable counsel and help you with the civil authorities. Explain how you have been abused and identify who has done it. Ask for protection. Your action may help others avoid becoming innocent victims, with the consequent suffering. Get help now. Do not fear—for fear is a tool Satan will use to keep you suffering. The Lord will help you, but you must reach out for that help.

To Parents:

Parents, in appropriate, sensitive ways, teach your children of the potential danger of abuse and how to avoid it. Be aware of warning signs, such as an abrupt change in a child’s behavior, that may signal a problem. Be alert to a child’s unsettled feelings and identify their origin.

Perks.

I had the joy of picking up these beauties today for Hannah's "un-birthday" tomorrow at school.
While I was at the store, I also picked up these mini treats as well - - all for me - - don't tell. Just one of the many perks to being a mother, don't you think?

I am fully aware that this picture is out of focus. I'll admit, I think it's from my current, but lovely, sugar high.

(wink)

Peek into the past.

I've been meaning to dig these out to share, and I finally got around to it yesterday. Ian wanted to look out in storage for his father's old school GI Joes, which we found, and I also grabbed my bin of keep-sakes.

So above. Above is my report card, the comments section of my Kindergarten year. This was right around the time my mother had left my brother, sister, and I. You'll have to click on the photo to read the comments. I think it speaks for itself.



Here is map my grandfather drew out in this (dumb) "All About Me" book from a therapist I had. I was supposed to be able to look at if after I was adopted, which never happened. Still, when I look at this book now it pains me. I think I'll quickly tuck all this stuff away again. I got bounced around a lot, don't you think?


And last, here's a page in a book I made in Kindergarten. It says, "Do you want to know why I am getting adopted? Because my Mom ran away.". Complete with tears. Kind of sad, don't you think?

So - there's a little bit more of me, I'm sharing with you. Pictures make it seem more real for me. Does it for you, too?

Picture Perfect.

I took these first two pictures of my girls last night. The lighting was warm in the kitchen, so I thought I'd give it a shot. I am amazed that Olivia is looking at the camera..... usually she immediately puts her head down when she sees the camera come out. My Hannah is growing so quickly. I can hardly stand it that she is going to be turning 8 in June. Talk about wanting to get time back........

Sunday afternoon we decided to take the kids to the duck pond. The light activity of feeding the hungry quackers ended - gosh - maybe 2 minutes in - when I heard "splash" and "Mom heeeelllllpppppp me!". I'll let you guess who fell in. The funniest part of the whole duck-pond-diving was immediately when he fell in, I yelled "Well, SH*T, Ian.....". Much to my dismay and other passer-by-ers, I realized some habits dies really hard. We fled the scene of the crime FAST.


Now this last one is cracking me up. We are at war with one of the neighborhood dogs. Murphy belongs to a 77 year old, nicotine addicted, savvy grandma. I like the lady, really I do. I look out for her, tend her when she is ill, we chat often.... but her dog..... THAT DOG!! That dog pees and craps in every one's yard and I CANNOT stand it. We even have a dog, except she uses a designated kennel for her eliminating needs. Hannah apparently has been listening to me moan about the problem, because when I was cleaning up her art work, I found this: "Murphy, dumb-d0g-shitzu, WANTED, Pees in people's yards.". Am I a good mom or what!

Fighting the good fight.

I was privileged to be able to listen to some beautiful messages from our church leadership this weekend. Two in particular stood out to me - One on motherhood given by Elder Ballard and one on overcoming abuse, given by Elder Scott.

I've been reflecting on those words over the weekend, and I thought I would share. Once these talks are available online, I'm going to post them on my blog so you can read the full scoop.

Elder Scott spoke of abuse, all kinds, but mainly sexual abuse. His comments were directed mainly towards the ability to heal fully, through the power of the Atonement, provided to each of us in Christ. This...... This I fully agree with. I also felt satisfied in his realization in how mountainous this burden is to many, including myself. While I realize that full healing is attainable, the amount of work that it will take to achieve that goal is such a large task, I cannot even begin to express. I can only speak for myself, but it is some thing I have been working towards for years - and would imagine that I will continue to work on for years to come. I know the Lord is capable of stirring with in me a healing that in unimaginable, and I have felt that process in my life for years.

What struck me also about Elder Scott's words, was how clearly and beautifully he was able to describe the war with the adversary that takes place with in my soul. Never have I EVER felt such a war waged with in myself concerning breaking the cycle of abuse in my home, in my own life. I can truly say that it is the fight of my life. Not a single moment passes that I am not thinking about the choices I am making. Not a moment passes that I am not aware of my triumphs and failures. I cannot express the amount of self awareness and self control it takes to constantly be reminding myself of the woman I should be, the mother I want to be. The task is daunting, the task limitless.

The strongest words of encouragement I can give to any one in my shoes, and to myself, is to continue on to wage the war. Continue on to fight the good fight. Repent, and repent often. Mess up? Try again? Fall short? Stand back up, make it right, and keeping fighting. I often wonder if during this life time will I be able to mother in such a way that causes little distress to my children? Often times I find myself quick to anger, sharp in my words, hurtful or unrealistic in my approach to parenting, yet my mind is quick to remind me of the truth that lies deep with in me. I am fortunate to being able to speak to my children about my struggle with in. We have sobbed together, held each other, and promised to keep on towards the goal of a better tomorrow. They are loved. They are content. They are happy, excited, and valued in and for their lives. I truly wish that my children should never fear me, yet they see me fight often to stay in control, watch me hold my tongue, force myself to not yell, watch me walk away. They are witness to the battle that lies with in, and how hard I fight to make their lives safe and secure, some thing I never had, yet still long for. Some days I'm proud of my progress, some days I am miserable when I regress. Nothing has exhausted me more.

I wish with my whole heart that my effort is good enough. I truly can say that I cannot do more. I plead that my effort is worthy, that my children forgive me for my short comings, yet I am quick to make any wrong right. There is promise of a bright future ahead, and with the reminder that I am progressing with all that I am, I have to believe my family will triumph in the end. We will beat down the adversary with every chain we break, ever step of progress that is stepped, some times crawled in my home. The war wages on, and this one... this war, I am assured I will win.

Blabbing it out.

I got a phone call yesterday, and enjoyed catching up with this old friend. This friend, actually is one of my sister in laws that I have always admired and loved. The woman will tell you like it is. She gives advice which holds her honest opinion, and I always feel uplifted after each and every time I speak with her. She touched on some parts of my life that I needed reminding of.

She brought up the point that it must make me so proud to look around me and see this beautiful family I've created. I thought about that a lot yesterday. I can honestly say that I am proud and not only proud, but over joyed. I have three beautiful children, a treasured husband, and when I think about it - - all my dreams have come true. I have been so blessed and fortunate to have been created by Heavenly Father in a way that I am able to press on, and have been able to survive, and not only survive, but flourish. What a solid reminder to keep renewing my commitment to become this woman that I know that I can be.

We chatted about how hard the last year has been for me. And I explained some thing to her, which I think I've explain to you before, but I think I'll re-visit the subject. My children are growing.... happy in themselves and in our home. My children are currently ALL at ages that I have very vivid memories of. It stirs with in me my accounts of my life that cause me a lot of grief.

My little Olivia is two now. When my biological father decided to run off with some woman, he ditched us in a home of such filth, it almost makes me ill to recall. The adults of the home were nasty. Nasty in every since of the word. I was three, my brother was two, my sister four or five. I remember sleeping on the floor at night, huddled by my brother, over a heating vent because we were made to share a bed with a young child that peed the bed every night. The floor was better then being wet. I remember being hungry and cold. I remember wishing some one would come rescue me. I remember being molested. I remember being afraid and I remember my brother and I wishing to escape. I remember that when my grandparents immediately came to our aide, when they heard of the situation, I remember this man scooping me up to bid me fare well, and I remember very clearly thinking that I didn't want his hands on me, that he was a fraud, and that he was sick. I have never enjoyed a car ride more in my life, then that day when we drove away from that house.

My Ian is nearly six now. This is the age I was when my mother left in the middle of the night. It was around Easter, and also my birthday. And do you know it was only THIS year that I figured out why I hated my birthday so much?? Gosh, ya think? That time of year is tied around a lot of pain. I remember when she left us, I wished so for her to return. My heart ached. I remember being a young child at school and for the next couple years when ever I was asked to write about myself, I always wrote about how my mother ran away. I actually have some of those class assignments saved. I'm going to scan and post them at a later date.

And last, my Hannah is almost 8. At that age I found myself adopted into a family where I knew my new mother completely hated me. I remember that she was cold, and I remember crying often at night. I remember fear, yet of a different nature, and I remember feeling anguish because I missed my biological family so. I remember the first time my mother ever put her hands on me. We have lived in her home a year or more, and I had run outside to see who was driving down the drive way. For some reason that angered her, and I remember her coming into my bed room while I sat on the bed, and she grabbed the skin under my chin and the hair on top of my head and she pulled in opposite directions as hard as she could. Little did I know what I was to live for the next 10 years.

I look at my own children and I am more then grateful to realize that their life will not be as mine. I feel victorious that their childhood is happy, peaceful, and safe. Seeing how happy they are, reminds of that time, when I was a child, and was not. It makes me grieve for those lost years, it makes me angry of the unfairness of it all, and it makes my heartache being aware of how truly much I must have hurt. I am so thankful for the winds of change in my own life, that my children know not what I knew at such a young age.

I understand today how important it still is for me to continue sharing and healing. I realize how far I've come and how far I have yet to travel. And I will. I'll continue on, for days to come, down my less traveled road. Thank you for walking it with me.

Need Proof?

Need proof that I have a two year old with an obsession with markers? If it's not permanent marker on her face at Easter, it's what I found yesterday: "art work" on my BED SKIRT just for Mom, from Olivia. I have no idea if it will even wash out.



Here's my Hannah. I'm posting a clip today of Ian and Olivia, and it didn't seem fair that Hannah missed out again, so here are my 2 latest favorites of her. I think I took these a month or so ago. But since I get NO sleep at night, I can't really even remember. I'm throwing one of me on here also, from today. And yes, I am headed for the shower. It's on my list of "things to do" today.




Below is the clip of the kids from this morning, fresh from baths. 2 down, Hannah is next when she gets home from school. That's my plan of attack.

Have a GREAT Wednesday.

Walk with me.

It's a comfortable place in my life when I am able to truly be at ease in my own skin. This blog represents my true self, and true journey in life. Although I do not define myself by being abused for years in the past, I am learning to embrace those experiences as part of my authentic self. Those experiences have led me to this road I am traveling now, and the more true I am to the very real trials I face, my healing will multiply, and I will be able to over come all of the obstacles in my path.

Did you notice I'm not set to private? I'm not crazy, I swear, although you might be wondering after all of the fuss and talk. In my hopes to "cut off" my "parents" I realized that no matter how hard I try to remove my life for theirs, they are going to hear news of my family. They will see photographs that other family possess, they are bound to hear if I have more children, they are bound to hear my family news. I have decided that if they find this blog, then let this blog stand as a witness that I have chosen to not be silenced. A witness that I am happy, that I have over come, that I am not bound my their chains. Let this blog be a witness of how proud I am to claim my past as my truth, and let this blog witness that I am every thing with out them.

I also decided that there is immense power in sharing. Not only for myself, but for other women whom may become bonded to myelf by my story. Sharing allows the truth to be known so that others may unit to journey through this life together. Unit in a way that will remind us that we are not alone. I do not want to close that door for myself, dis-allow myself to continue to meet and know other women I admire and love. There is true strength to be drawn from you and others that I hope to meet.

Welcome to my new home, let's walk.