Those of my readers who know me know that a years-long pet peeve of mine is how prisoners get treated. In prison and out of prison. I am not proposing working with this population-- I'd be destroyed. There is not only a lot of need but people who manipulate. I do not laugh at treatment of prisoners; I knew a guy who was a guard and he was a calloused person and a terrible, distrustful father and I know that his personality allowed him to survive his environment.
One of my long-time high school friends came out of federal prison a while back and we have since renewed our friendship. He is anything but bitter-- he tells me what happened to him and it hurts to hear, but he maintains that those who had power who were jerks were not jerks because of him but jerks because they had to survive, too.
I found a new blog called The Rabbit Hole. Bill Baily has written it. He's been in what I think would be Hell. Prisoners get out of jail or prison. They cannot help each other. They have nothing yet he is philosophical about it. I have nothing deep to write-- but here is my blurb for his work. He may have been down but he's never been out. Go to his blog.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Family Violence becomes an Art Form ;)
Last night I went to my first wrestling match. It was like combat ballet. All I can say is, "Wow."
For several years my eldest daughters were telling me to get their brothers into wrestling. I was thinking of guys roughhousing on a mat and said no way. Last night my eldest at home was given extra credit points for bringing a family member to a tournament as one of her teachers is a coach. I dropped them off and went to class. I knew they'd not be out for a while so I went to the school when I got out and paid to go in. My daughter was up in the stands. Now initially I was going to ask them if they could leave early, but the band was playing a catchy tune and I decided to stay.
First, I found myself cheering for the guy on the bottom, just hoping he'd get back on top. (Isn't that humiliating to lose?) Well, one of Peaches friends, The Vivacious Redhead said, "Don't cheer for them! We're winning! That's bad if their guy gets on top!" I guess the guy who was winning was in her first hour class and was a sweetheart so I started yelling for whomever they told me to yell for. I was glad for the other school-- they got two wins. It would have been humiliating to have left with no wins and the score was like 70-6. They canceled the JV tournament which made me sad as I'd have stayed for it. (If you have ever been on a JV team, you know what I am talking about. It is devastating to watch nine tenths of the crowd leave when Varsity gets over. For me, seeing two equally matched teams of athletes face off is great and I don't care WHAT level they are.)
My son who went with his big sister found some friends and was playing Pokemon cards and hanging out. Peaches thought he didn't like it since he wanted to play, but I asked if he wanted to wrestle and he looked at his sister and hugged her-- he'd asked her to work on me so he could wrestle. It was important that he saw it and then saw his friends who wrestle and they just did their thing.
In the car, I drove home then had to run to the store. I got the three middle boys in the car and looked in my rear view mirror to see LEGS in the air. I pulled over, "WTF are you idiots doing?" In the brief time I ran inside to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, my one son had taught his other brothers some moves and they were practicing. (They kept trying to wrestle in the supermarket aisles. What have I created?) New rule in the Crumpetmobile: both butt cheeks have to be on the car seat while Mom is driving!
I'm excited. I always thought my boys would either cripple of kill each other, but with wrestling, they can do it in a controlled, gentlemanly manner. . . I am really excited to get them doing this and I regret that I waited so long. They won't really kill each other-- although that's only because I put an end to their roughhousing before it gets out of hand.
For several years my eldest daughters were telling me to get their brothers into wrestling. I was thinking of guys roughhousing on a mat and said no way. Last night my eldest at home was given extra credit points for bringing a family member to a tournament as one of her teachers is a coach. I dropped them off and went to class. I knew they'd not be out for a while so I went to the school when I got out and paid to go in. My daughter was up in the stands. Now initially I was going to ask them if they could leave early, but the band was playing a catchy tune and I decided to stay.
First, I found myself cheering for the guy on the bottom, just hoping he'd get back on top. (Isn't that humiliating to lose?) Well, one of Peaches friends, The Vivacious Redhead said, "Don't cheer for them! We're winning! That's bad if their guy gets on top!" I guess the guy who was winning was in her first hour class and was a sweetheart so I started yelling for whomever they told me to yell for. I was glad for the other school-- they got two wins. It would have been humiliating to have left with no wins and the score was like 70-6. They canceled the JV tournament which made me sad as I'd have stayed for it. (If you have ever been on a JV team, you know what I am talking about. It is devastating to watch nine tenths of the crowd leave when Varsity gets over. For me, seeing two equally matched teams of athletes face off is great and I don't care WHAT level they are.)
My son who went with his big sister found some friends and was playing Pokemon cards and hanging out. Peaches thought he didn't like it since he wanted to play, but I asked if he wanted to wrestle and he looked at his sister and hugged her-- he'd asked her to work on me so he could wrestle. It was important that he saw it and then saw his friends who wrestle and they just did their thing.
In the car, I drove home then had to run to the store. I got the three middle boys in the car and looked in my rear view mirror to see LEGS in the air. I pulled over, "WTF are you idiots doing?" In the brief time I ran inside to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, my one son had taught his other brothers some moves and they were practicing. (They kept trying to wrestle in the supermarket aisles. What have I created?) New rule in the Crumpetmobile: both butt cheeks have to be on the car seat while Mom is driving!
I'm excited. I always thought my boys would either cripple of kill each other, but with wrestling, they can do it in a controlled, gentlemanly manner. . . I am really excited to get them doing this and I regret that I waited so long. They won't really kill each other-- although that's only because I put an end to their roughhousing before it gets out of hand.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Miss Kaydence
A six month old baby was killed by her biological father about a week and a half ago. In her picture, she looks like any other six month old baby. Her father apparently lost his temper. Big guy, beating up on a baby like that-- she would have survived and he'd have not gotten the longer sentence that he'll get had he just taken her to the hospital. I will think of something to say about this, but I keep looking at her picture. She looks like any of my own children. Her mother buried her the day after Thanksgiving.
I temporarily lost my two eldest in a custody battle a few years ago. It's hard to disprove things that never happened. The judges never investigated anything my ex said which would have helped me and my daughters and proven my ex a liar. Instead, the battle solidified our relationship and they came home as soon as they could on their own which I took as having a bigger blow to my ex and a higher honor to me, but I'd have rather not fought the battle. The ex hired a mock counselor who blabbed to him and his wife everything my daughters said and they had school teachers thinking they were saviors. (Their bio father criticized them for learning foreign languages and tried to convince them that they had his learning disabilities! His wife had eating issues and she accused my daughters of getting fat at her house and making themselves throw up when it was her doing that! They did gain weight-- and she made a huge issue of being smaller than them. She has ISSUES.) The ex's wife had all sorts of issues that are finally coming to a fore. My ex husband was violent and broke my bed, he shoved me and destroyed things and I got out-- no paper trail, no cop calling,I just got the hell out when the kids were little.
Did this young lady's mother tell the courts that the father of this sweet baby was violent and did they not believe her? Of course I am putting my own issues on her. Maybe she had no clue that he'd be mean. It doesn't matter.
Anyway, my heart is broken-- the baby is safe in Heaven-- but she should be here, getting ready to celebrate her first Christmas. How does one's mother survive such grief? (How will her biological father come to terms with this? Was this uncharacteristic of him to be violent? Was he having a crappy day and a crying baby just hit the wrong chord with him? Did he think less of her because of her mother seeing someone else or not being in love with him? We will never know and it doesn't matter.) I still cry for my miscarriages. How do you get over such a loss and not being able to help your child?
I temporarily lost my two eldest in a custody battle a few years ago. It's hard to disprove things that never happened. The judges never investigated anything my ex said which would have helped me and my daughters and proven my ex a liar. Instead, the battle solidified our relationship and they came home as soon as they could on their own which I took as having a bigger blow to my ex and a higher honor to me, but I'd have rather not fought the battle. The ex hired a mock counselor who blabbed to him and his wife everything my daughters said and they had school teachers thinking they were saviors. (Their bio father criticized them for learning foreign languages and tried to convince them that they had his learning disabilities! His wife had eating issues and she accused my daughters of getting fat at her house and making themselves throw up when it was her doing that! They did gain weight-- and she made a huge issue of being smaller than them. She has ISSUES.) The ex's wife had all sorts of issues that are finally coming to a fore. My ex husband was violent and broke my bed, he shoved me and destroyed things and I got out-- no paper trail, no cop calling,I just got the hell out when the kids were little.
Did this young lady's mother tell the courts that the father of this sweet baby was violent and did they not believe her? Of course I am putting my own issues on her. Maybe she had no clue that he'd be mean. It doesn't matter.
Anyway, my heart is broken-- the baby is safe in Heaven-- but she should be here, getting ready to celebrate her first Christmas. How does one's mother survive such grief? (How will her biological father come to terms with this? Was this uncharacteristic of him to be violent? Was he having a crappy day and a crying baby just hit the wrong chord with him? Did he think less of her because of her mother seeing someone else or not being in love with him? We will never know and it doesn't matter.) I still cry for my miscarriages. How do you get over such a loss and not being able to help your child?
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
I Canceled the Surgery
I cannot go through with it. This isn't the right time. Do I need to be in a real fix?
I called the doctor this morning and told his nurse I'd schedule the pre-operation stuff. She'd told me that it was just a bunch of paperwork and would last fifteen minutes. She knew that I had a class the night before my surgery and said to come in right before since I was doing stuff that day.
I was like, "Cool-- I can come in today and take it home, sign it and take it back in a week."
Oh-- this had to be done 48 hours before. Then she told me the rest of the story-- I needed an EKG, a blood count, etc. I flipped out! What's all this other crap that she wanted?
I started asking more questions. She knows that I attend school two days a week in the next city and intend to continue in the spring. "How long will I be recovering?" Oh-- all of Christmas break and then right before I can see the doctor and he may approve me to return to classes, but I need to not be upright too much. WTF! I have a 90 minute drive each way those days!!! "Can't you lay down and put the seat back?" She thought my husband would just. . . drive me to and from school! ARGH!
I was freaked out by the EKG anyway.
When I asked her what would have happened when I went in to get my paperwork before class where i have a monster final, She casually said that she didn't know-- she hoped that I'd respect the doctor not being able to get another patient in and go through with it and tell my prof that I needed to take it later! She is a nursing school graduate. She knows that you don't skip out on finals unless you are dying!
Anyway, I had a test in toay. For the past few days I have been frazzled about this operation and didn't think I was learning anything. I think I did well on it. The operation is a HUGE deal. I'm glad I decided to not do it, but the doctor's nurse tried to talk me into getting it done. For whatever reason, I am simply not ready. Next time this comes up I will know what is happening and not be so thrown off.
For now. . . I am forgetting about this and worrying about school. Fiddle-dee-dee.
I called the doctor this morning and told his nurse I'd schedule the pre-operation stuff. She'd told me that it was just a bunch of paperwork and would last fifteen minutes. She knew that I had a class the night before my surgery and said to come in right before since I was doing stuff that day.
I was like, "Cool-- I can come in today and take it home, sign it and take it back in a week."
Oh-- this had to be done 48 hours before. Then she told me the rest of the story-- I needed an EKG, a blood count, etc. I flipped out! What's all this other crap that she wanted?
I started asking more questions. She knows that I attend school two days a week in the next city and intend to continue in the spring. "How long will I be recovering?" Oh-- all of Christmas break and then right before I can see the doctor and he may approve me to return to classes, but I need to not be upright too much. WTF! I have a 90 minute drive each way those days!!! "Can't you lay down and put the seat back?" She thought my husband would just. . . drive me to and from school! ARGH!
I was freaked out by the EKG anyway.
When I asked her what would have happened when I went in to get my paperwork before class where i have a monster final, She casually said that she didn't know-- she hoped that I'd respect the doctor not being able to get another patient in and go through with it and tell my prof that I needed to take it later! She is a nursing school graduate. She knows that you don't skip out on finals unless you are dying!
Anyway, I had a test in toay. For the past few days I have been frazzled about this operation and didn't think I was learning anything. I think I did well on it. The operation is a HUGE deal. I'm glad I decided to not do it, but the doctor's nurse tried to talk me into getting it done. For whatever reason, I am simply not ready. Next time this comes up I will know what is happening and not be so thrown off.
For now. . . I am forgetting about this and worrying about school. Fiddle-dee-dee.
Surgery and Reading
My hysterectomy is scheduled in three weeks. I am up at 3AM worrying. I can't sleep. It will cost quite a bit of money. Do I want this? If I don't do it, my doctor wants tests done that will be as annoying as the surgery prep itself on an organ (my uterus) that I do not need.
Recovery is six weeks long. There may not be this much time as I will have again for a long time. One of my friends, a local politician, is coming with me to the hospital. I don't want my husband there-- I'd rather have him with the kids at the house. Or to take time out to be with me later on. They don't want you moving around because they do so many internal stitches. For the first three weeks I will be out for the count on bed rest, then school resumes and he said that as long as I heal properly, I will be able to walk around school with luggage on wheels that many people do already. Of course we worry about how this will be with me putting it in and out of the car, but I should fare all right.
In yoga this is the location of the third chakra. What if he removes my uterus and i have thought that this was the location of that chakra? He laughed, "Well, you will still be able to have sex and enjoy it. You will just make a new location and focus on it!" He doesn't do yoga chakras. He thinks that is silly.
The ovaries will stay in. One of my great grandmothers died of ovarian cancer. I was scared when my mom went off about how young she was. Turns out "young" was 58-- my mom is almost 70 so 58 is young to her. My Gyn said that no, 58 is not young. He is 48 and said as much as he wishes that 58 was young, it is not! By then I will have hit menopause and they will get them out as they will have stopped working anyway and they are aware of the history now and will look for it.
I don't like surgery. I wonder how my body will change. I hope I don't get a big stomach like many women get. I don't want to be looking like a middle aged mother. I still feel 19! But-- acceptance of one's attributes that one cannot change is more important than hiding behind baggy clothes.
Tonight I helped my son with special needs read and do his spelling. We started singing his spelling words. Two of his words, her and were, sound similar but have different endings. He asked why and I told him about the history of the words. It made sense to him. Later I was grilling him on his words and he shut his eyes and sang them for me. I also drew < > greater and lesser signs but as musical symbols. He was learning them in math and they made more sense to him than the stupid explanation that my teacher and his teacher gave, "It's a tiny alligator (small end) wanting to take a big bite of the big alligator!" Guy understands the loudness aspect. He slipped me a note after dinner, "I want < spegety! It's <, < good!" (I want more spaghetti. It's very, very good.) That was cute. He likes the symbols so I will be looking for more for him. If things start to click in his mind, I will be very happy.
Recovery is six weeks long. There may not be this much time as I will have again for a long time. One of my friends, a local politician, is coming with me to the hospital. I don't want my husband there-- I'd rather have him with the kids at the house. Or to take time out to be with me later on. They don't want you moving around because they do so many internal stitches. For the first three weeks I will be out for the count on bed rest, then school resumes and he said that as long as I heal properly, I will be able to walk around school with luggage on wheels that many people do already. Of course we worry about how this will be with me putting it in and out of the car, but I should fare all right.
In yoga this is the location of the third chakra. What if he removes my uterus and i have thought that this was the location of that chakra? He laughed, "Well, you will still be able to have sex and enjoy it. You will just make a new location and focus on it!" He doesn't do yoga chakras. He thinks that is silly.
The ovaries will stay in. One of my great grandmothers died of ovarian cancer. I was scared when my mom went off about how young she was. Turns out "young" was 58-- my mom is almost 70 so 58 is young to her. My Gyn said that no, 58 is not young. He is 48 and said as much as he wishes that 58 was young, it is not! By then I will have hit menopause and they will get them out as they will have stopped working anyway and they are aware of the history now and will look for it.
I don't like surgery. I wonder how my body will change. I hope I don't get a big stomach like many women get. I don't want to be looking like a middle aged mother. I still feel 19! But-- acceptance of one's attributes that one cannot change is more important than hiding behind baggy clothes.
Tonight I helped my son with special needs read and do his spelling. We started singing his spelling words. Two of his words, her and were, sound similar but have different endings. He asked why and I told him about the history of the words. It made sense to him. Later I was grilling him on his words and he shut his eyes and sang them for me. I also drew < > greater and lesser signs but as musical symbols. He was learning them in math and they made more sense to him than the stupid explanation that my teacher and his teacher gave, "It's a tiny alligator (small end) wanting to take a big bite of the big alligator!" Guy understands the loudness aspect. He slipped me a note after dinner, "I want < spegety! It's <, < good!" (I want more spaghetti. It's very, very good.) That was cute. He likes the symbols so I will be looking for more for him. If things start to click in his mind, I will be very happy.
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