Today had to be one of the worst holiday's I've ever experienced. There are only two holidays I actually like - Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve - and Thanksgiving was ruined for me today to the point that I don't ever want to celebrate this holiday again.
My kids are out of school this week from Wednesday through Friday, and, of course, the weekend. Five days of being home with me all day long, every single day. Yesterday morning they started fighting with one another almost as soon as they got out of bed; it was about 9:30 in the morning and Zach and Dolly were at each other's throats. That was after Zach and Ty had already had a minor argument over I have no idea what. Zach's and Dolly's fight put me over the edge and I sent everyone upstairs to their rooms.
The fighting yesterday continued, off and on, all day long; even in the Dollar General while I was buying a few things we needed around the house. I don't shop on Black Friday, I don't even leave the house, so I wanted to make sure all my errands were finished yesterday. The kids, though, didn't seem to care that we were shopping, they just went at it like they were the only two people in the world.
Bedtime last night arrived and all was quiet; and this morning even started out just fine. There were a few minor skirmishes between Dolly and Zach but nothing that didn't fade right away. We were all watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and playing Charades and Apples to Apples for a few hours. Everyone was laughing and giggling and enjoying each other like we were a family. That's the way it's supposed to be, right? That's what I thought.
I had the turkey in the oven and the kids helped me get the rest of the dinner started; and then decided they needed a snack. Their snack consisted of Halloween candy that was still sitting around and that's when everything went downhill. The boys started arguing over who had more candy left and who needed to share with whom, and on and on it went. No matter how hard I tried to interject and give suggestions the fighting wouldn't stop.
Ty was yelling at Zach and Zach was yelling at me and my brain was about ready to explode. I stayed calm, I didn't explode or get angry or anything and then Zach just burst at the seams. He threw all his candy on the floor and started screaming at the top of his lungs about how much he hates this family and especially me because I'm just rude, mean, nasty, and don't care about him. He stomped up the stairs as loudly as he could screaming at me the entire time.
That was all I could take. I sent everyone upstairs and told them not to come down because I couldn't be around them. I told them to each pick a different bedroom and go be alone and that set Zach off even worse because he wanted my bedroom but Ty already claimed it. I cleaned up the candy from all over the floor and threw it away so there wouldn't be anymore fighting about it, and then I began finishing up the meal without their help.
There was extremely loud banging on one of the bedroom doors and I took as much of it as I could take before I went upstairs to find out what it was. Zach had come out of his room and was kicking my bedroom door because Ty wouldn't let him in there. I dealt with that issue leaving Zach screaming at me all over again. I came back downstairs and finished cooking.
I was so angry I could barely see straight and I really didn't want to be around any of the kids at all for the rest of the day. They had to eat, though, so I made them sit in the kitchen and eat alone while I sat on the sofa by myself. I was calmer that way. When they finished eating I at whatever Zach and Dolly had left on their plates and I cleaned up the kitchen and baked the pies. Twice while I was waiting for the pies to bake Zach came downstairs and got angry because I wouldn't instantly forgive him and he started screaming and stomping up the stairs all over again. Whatever. After they had dessert I took the plate I'd made for their dad - he's stuck working all day - and we went to his apartment to leave the food and feed his new kitten.
Wouldn't you know it; the second we stepped outside our door to drive over there the kids started fighting over who got to sit where in the van. I didn't let them in until they stopped fighting. We got to their dad's place and Zach and Dolly started fighting over who got to go in first. I had the key so what difference did it make? When we got back home a short while later they all started fighting all over again so now they're all upstairs doing whatever it is they're doing and I'm sitting on the sofa, alone again.
And as I'm writing this I was hearing laughter and joking from upstairs but that quickly changed because I just heard a loud thud. Asking what it was I find out that Zach got angry at Dolly and pushed her down onto the floor. That's it!! I've had it!! I just sent three kids to bed at 7:00 when they don't have school tomorrow. And I don't care. I'm tired, aggravated, and just plain sick of all the fighting of the past two days.
This day was such a disaster for me that I don't want to do Thanksgiving again because I know that next year I'll be sitting here anticipating the fighting and I don't want to do that. I'd just as soon forget the holiday exists and treat it as any other day in our lives. I do hope all of you enjoyed your holiday whether with family, friends or a mix of the two. And while I am thankful for all I have, my children included, my Thanksgiving wasn't very happy at all.
Until next time...peace to all.
You don't have to believe me if you don't want to, that's your choice, but what I'm saying tonight is 100% true. I am completely drained today because of something that happened last night while I was sleeping. It's the fault of my ex-husband's recently-deceased uncle.
I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before but weird things are always happening to me; ghostly, spooky, creepy things that don't happen to most of my friends. I've talked to people who aren't there while I'm sleeping, I've seen my ex's great-grandmother standing in my mirror in the middle of the night, and a host of other things. Last night I had another experience.
I'd turned off my light and gone to sleep around 12:30 in the morning. Suddenly I was in the middle of a dream. I was in a house I didn't know, with people I didn't know, but I was talking on the phone to my ex's aunt, the one who's husband recently died. I was telling her how sorry I was for her loss when I felt a hand grabbing the back of my hair. I was sitting on a sofa so nobody could've been standing behind me but it was annoying me.
Suddenly I looked at the wall to my left and saw the shadow of a hand grabbing my hair over and over again. Whoever it was just kept playing with the back of my hair and it was giving me the creeps to the point that I started to come out of the dream. Now, at that point of being between sleep and consciousness is when these things usually happen to me. Just as I was coming out of the dream I got a flash picture of my cell phone in my head with a text message that said "Ralph" - which is the name of my ex's uncle.
Upon seeing the text I said, "What do you want me to tell Janet (his wife), Ralph?" As quickly as the first image appeared a second one followed with the message, "okay." Then I was suddenly wide awake but scared witless. I was shivering cold and terrified to move because I just knew someone was standing behind me in my bedroom. I lay there for a minute or so and finally got the courage to turn over and look at my clock. It was 2:05 in the morning. It didn't mean anything, that's just what time it was.
I began to warm up and sat up in bed, turned on the lamp, and the TV. I was scared, deal with it. Then I debated over whether or not to send my ex a text at that hour and figured it wouldn't hurt, he probably had his cell on mute. So I sent over a text telling him that I was asked to let him and Janet know that Ralph is ok. Guess his cell was on because he responded. We texted for a minute or two then he went back to bed, I guess.
I lay in bed watching "Field of Dreams" for lack of anything better but didn't fall back to sleep for a long while; and I woke up a few hours later, at my usual time, feeling completely drained and exhausted. Thanks, Ralph, for sapping my energy to do what you felt you needed to do. But the story doesn't end there.
Paul texted me this morning asking if I'd had any more visits but I hadn't. I told him I thought he'd had his cell on mute since he has a house phone for emergencies. He said he keeps both phones by his bed since some people still only use his cell. Then he said something that made my story even better.
He told me that his house phone rang just as he was getting my text so he thought something was wrong over here. I told him I didn't call his house phone, just sent the text. He said he knew I didn't call because he told me no ID came up on his house phone when it rang. My thought: Ralph grabbed my hair to wake me so I could send the message, then rang Paul's phone so he could get the message. That's one busy spirit.
I don't mind passing on messages or having otherworldly visits, I just wish they would be at more convenient times and in a less creepy fashion. Regardless of the circumstances, Ralph got his message through and Paul feels better. We still haven't decided whether or not to tell his aunt because we don't know if she'll be receptive. He's gonna check with his mother first.
In any case, I just wanted to share this amazing story with you and leave you to your own thoughts about it. Whatever you choose to believe is fine; I know what happened, I was here. You can share it or forget about it; I've shared it but won't forget about it. Tonight, though, I hope I can get some well-deserved sleep without any visits from dead people who don't need to be here in the middle of the night.
Until next time...peace to all.
I'm in the mood to rant tonight because I'm confused and have absolutely no idea what to do. My kids went to their dad's tonight for an overnight visit. I was alone for about a half hour when I heard a noise at my screen door. I lock the door when I'm here alone, especially at night. First I thought it was just the wind, it's really windy over here today. Then when I heard the noise again I thought it was my neighbor trying to get my attention so I got up to look. It was Ty trying to get in. He'd had an issue with Paul and left Paul's to come back here.
Ty said he didn't tell Paul he was leaving, he just took his stuff and came home. When I asked what happened he told me there was an issue with hooking up the kids' XBox, blah, blah, blah and Paul started yelling at Ty so he got upset and came home. I sent Paul a text so he'd know where Ty was and he texted back that he was pissed at Ty. Whatever, I don't care. I'm trying to find out what's going on.
It was a small issue; Ty wanted Zach to do something, Zach claimed he didn't know how - which he did - Ty pressed the issue and Paul got angry at Ty and made Ty do the aforementioned task. In the midst of me trying to talk to Ty about it, Paul called on the phone yelling at me that Ty needs to be grounded and that he can't go back there tonight. Fine. Shut up. Get off my phone and let me talk to Ty. I didn't say that, mind you, just thought it loudly to myself.
So I sent Ty upstairs to his room and told him he could stay up there tomorrow for leaving Paul's house without telling anyone. A few minutes later Paul called back saying he was pissed at Ty and that Ty can't go running back here, his home, whenever he gets upset with Paul, and that Ty needed to go back there. I agree with that but here's where my dilemma enters the scene. Our kids have not had Paul around them for any length of time, or with any consistency, for more than 10 months of their lives. They don't know how to live with him around and he doesn't know how to be a hands-on father. I'm being put in the middle of everything.
I don't mind being in the middle of things; I do it all the time for my friends. I help them work out fights, I listen to their problems, I find resources for them when needed; I'm an I-will-help-you-with-anything-at-any-time type of person. I just don't know how to do it with my kids and their dad. They're afraid of him; I'm afraid of him. He's vindictive and nasty at times, and when he's been drinking it's even worse.
I've, pretty much, got control of my dealings with him but there's that one little part of my subconscious that knows he's a nasty shit at times and that's what stops me from saying the things I need to say to him sometimes. I usually text just so I can save his words for future use, if needed. I can't tell my kids not to be afraid of him because I am.
I told Ty to go back to Paul's house and tell him he's sorry for leaving without saying anything; and I also told him to tell Paul that he doesn't appreciate having to be the only one to help his brother and sister just because he's the oldest. That was part of what Ty was upset about when he got here. Ty doesn't like Paul always telling him to do things for Zach and Dolly when they need help with something; Paul needs to be doing that, not Ty.
We have totally different households and Paul doesn't understand that. In my home the kids and I work as a team, helping one another and doing things for those who can't. All of us work together to get things done. In Paul's house he does what he wants and leaves the kids to fend for themselves then gets pissed when they fuck things up, or he gets angry with Ty because Ty didn't step in and help.
Ty didn't want to discuss that with Paul because he's afraid of him and didn't want Paul to yell at him again. I told him he has the right to tell his dad how he feels as long as it's done respectfully. In my home the kids talk to me about everything; they even yell at me at times when they're angry. They don't get away with it but, at least, I don't explode on them the way Paul does. He doesn't believe kids are entitled to opinions; I do.
I think kids have the right to express themselves, to get angry, to be sad and cry, to disagree with someone, and to have and express whatever emotions they may be feeling at the time. Paul thinks kids need to do what they're told and that they're feelings are insignificant. Grrrrrr....stupid mother fucker.
I have absolutely no idea how to deal with all of this when it's laid in my lap. I can talk to the kids and I can talk to Paul, I just can't discuss the kids' feelings with Paul because he starts getting angry with me over it. That's where my PTSD from the domestic violence kicks in and my physiological response is to shut up and let him yell at me. I feel bad even having to send my kids over there because it's like forcing them to play with the neighborhood bully. Would you do that to your kids? Of course not. I have to, though, because it's in my divorce agreement that he gets certain visitation and all that shit.
We were all much better off when he lived states away and wasn't this close to us all the time. I know things will get worse for the kids once Paul get a girlfriend - which I'm surprised hasn't happened yet because the man simply cannot be alone for any length of time. That's probably why he bugs the shit out of me all the time. Once Paul does get a girlfriend he'll go back to the way things used to be that when the kids are there the girlfriend takes care of everything while Paul watches TV or plays on the computer. He does that now and he's the only one there with them. They play video games or watch TV and Paul spends his time texting or going on his laptop. Why do they even need to be there?
It is what it is with regard to that but I still don't know how to handle the parenting issues with Paul. He'll listen to what I have to say and then completely ignore me and do the exact opposite of my advice simply because he can and he doesn't like being told what to do when it comes to his kids. He's a control freak who feels that he has the right to treat people the way he wants no matter how it makes them feel. And whenever anything goes wrong he feels the need to take it out on me. I just can't be everybody's verbal punching bag all the time.
But I'm calmer now that I've spilled this all out, as ridiculous and garbled as it may sound. Sorry about that, but if I walked around my house ranting like this my neighbors would probably call the wacky shack on me. In any case, I'm finished now and will go back to watching TV. I'll probably put on a movie about two people who fall madly in love. Since all that stuff is bullshit I'll get a good laugh from it. Enjoy your evening, night, day - whatever time it is that you may be reading this.
Until next time...peace to all.
"Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there. He wasn’t there again today; I wish, I wish he’d go away..." - Antigonish by Hughes Mearns
Back on June 28, 2010 I posted under the title "Nothing To Do" and I mentioned a ghost that we had on our stairs. It was a little boy - I didn't know for sure but had a really strong feeling - who sat about halfway up the staircase and watched me while I was in the living room. I could see him out of the corner of my eye but whenever I looked directly at him he'd fade.
I never found out who he was but had the idea that it might be the little boy Dolly played with and talked to when she was two. She said his name was Gavin, or it could've been Kevin, but I believe it was Gavin. She said that Gavin slept in her room. One night as I was putting Dolly to bed in my room (she didn't sleep in her own bed at that point) she was very upset because Gavin was gone. She said he was outside standing in the yard with his mother and that she wouldn't let him come inside. I told her he'd be fine and she went to sleep.
Gavin, I'll just call him that for lack of his real name, was with us all the time but never fully showed himself. When we moved I didn't see much of him - not at Ellen's, not at Kara's, not at the shelter, and not at Kim's - but there were always others around me who I couldn't identify. We're back in Hawthorne now and Gavin is with us again. He sits in the same place on the stairs, halfway up just where the railing meets the wall, I guess so he can stay out of plain view.
I see him there all the time and always invite him to come out and chat but he never does. The other day, however, I almost got a full view of him. I was sitting on the sofa watching a movie and had my cat Bobber on my lap and my other cat Winchester on the back of the sofa by my head. We were the only family members in the house at the time because the kids were at school.
Out of the corner of my eye I cold see Gavin sitting on the stairs, off and on, during the morning. Suddenly, he moved. I saw the movement and it surprised me so I turned to look at the stairs but just as I looked a shadow went up the stairs so quickly I almost didn't believe I saw it. But I did. It was almost like Gavin wanted me to see him but changed his mind at the last second and ran.
That was sad for me because, unlike the beginning of the poem that I quoted at the start of this post, I don't want Gavin to leave. I really want to meet him to see why he's here and what I can do for him. I told him that he's more than welcome to come out and talk, and that he can stay as long as he likes as long as he isn't mean and doesn't create chaos in the house. I guess he chose not to come back downstairs. I guess when he feels ready he will come all the way down; until then I'll just let him sit on the stairs where and when he wants to.
Until next time...peace to all.
I'm really aggravated tonight. If any of you who read this are friends on Facebook you've seen my post about today's educational policies in the schools. If not, you're about to read about it. Zach and Dolly were sent home on Friday with their quarterly binders which hold their attendance records, their behavior records, the goals they've set for themselves, and their test results for each month.
Everything is fine with me except the tests because when I say 'tests' I'm not talking about teacher-prepared tests that the kids are given on each subject. I'm talking about state-mandated - or is it federally-mandated? - tests that the schools are forced to give the kids each month. Yes, my kids get spelling tests each week and Zach has had a social studies test once or twice but these other tests are pure bullshit.
I realize that the "No Child Left Behind" policy has a lot to do with it but I've never liked that policy. Children are taking these tests that the schools are forced to give them and passing them, although I don't know how. Dolly has STAR reading and early literacy tests, ELA something-or-other and some other test; and Zach has STAR reading, Rocket math ratings, and SMA something-or-other tests, and I can't interpret the results of any of them because the codes don't make any sense to me at all.
Quite honestly I don't understand how these tests rate or place the children in their grades because I've seen the work of some kids hanging on the hallway bulletin boards and a good many of the kids can't spell basic words. Just to give you an example, one child, D, in Zach's 4th-grade class had a Halloween story on the board which read, "It was halween and it was a cold halween so me and my mama and my brother & sisters and my dady just got threw trica treating so we went to my Gramals and I was just geting up the hill I sall red eyes..." That is directly from the D's paper.
The child is in 4th grade and not only does D not use punctuation or proper grammar, D also can't spell the most basic of words like 'daddy', and 'saw.' At D's age 'Grandma', 'getting' and 'Halloween' ought to be spelled correctly, too. As a matter of fact, that entire little paragraph ought to be almost perfect for a nine-year-old child. It makes me sad that it's not. I feel for the child and I feel for the teachers because apparently grammar, spelling, and punctuation are not part of the government's curriculum or policies.
To make matters worse, D's parents probably aren't very involved in D's schooling and D will, most likely, end up graduating from high school with no real grasp on the English language or how to write or spell correctly - if D even makes it that far. I definitely know D, or any child for that matter, won't be learning how to write in script because the schools don't offer lessons in that much-needed skill anymore.
Script has become a thing of the past - and so has basic printing, apparently - because children are being taught how to type rather than write, which is really sad because Dolly had a 'team buddy' working with her on a project who prints like a two year old. I was shocked, when I saw the project, to find out that the 'buddy' was a third grader who was assigned to help Dolly. Dolly prints better than the buddy. I guess the school doesn't care because kids are expected to learn how to use a keyboard rather than how to write in print or cursive - I'm guessing because the government mandates it.
Not learning how to write makes sense since we all know that documents theses days are signed electronically. Right? Wrong! My children won't know how to sign a check, or a lease, or mortgage documents if they ever decide to buy houses of their own, or even birthday cards to their spouses - that's if the schools get their way. Too bad they won't.
See, not only do I teach my kids to write - print and script, but I also teach them to read, spell, do math, and all that other fun stuff that the schools won't let them do. I don't care if my daughter is up to G-level reading in her 1st-grade class. I don't even know what the fuck that means. I just want to know if she's reading on par for her age group or if she needs a little extra help. I know she doesn't need help because she can spell and read 'saw' and 'Grandma' and she's only six.
Something needs to be done about all this bullshit testing the government is forcing on the schools and the children, and the teachers need to be able to return to the classic format of teaching and testing without government interference. If the government wants to blame someone for the kids not doing well on the state exams - which I also despise - maybe the officials need to start going door to door and speaking to the parents to find out who actually gives a shit about their kids' education and who doesn't. Maybe that would take some of the pressure off the schools and teachers and the government could actually put the blame where it belongs - on the parents and on the government itself.
Kids need to be taught and tested in schools with finals at the end of the year, the way it was when I went to school, and let the year's worth of work and final exams determine whether or not a child moves up to the next grade. Obviously all the state/federal bullshit is doing is churning out illiterate children who are being moved up to the next grade because they reached a certain goal on the mandated-yet-useless monthly tests. I refuse to allow that to happen to my kids. I'll keep doing what I'm doing at home and make sure my kids turn out better than the government wants them to be.
Until next time...peace to all.
