Power Year?

I’ve always heard that the year that your numeric age matches your birthday, that it is supposed to be your power year. This past year shoudl’ve been mine. 27th of July, 27th year.

Was it?

Well, at this time last year, I was having the worst birthday ever, it might have even been the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was in a  bad marriage, I was miserable, my kids were miserable. It was in fact on my birthday last year, that I took a sabbatical out of town. I went home in a sense. Back to where I grew up, hung out with people who knew me, when I was me. Before I became the beautiful mess that I was. I remembered me, and I missed me. Me wasn’t something I often got a chance to think about. And in the midst of my driving on the open road, left alone with myself and my thoughts, I made the decision that things were going to change.

And they surely have.

My 27th year of life was the year I really found myself. Finally.

I had to leave behind the girl I was in order to learn what kind of woman I am. Much to my dismay, it meant ending my marriage, intensive therapy, my children having their worlds turned upside, and watching my best friend grieve the loss of her son before I got it. This is life, and you can only have what you make of it and that takes, strength, courage, and grace. I was me for the first time in a long time. I was take it or leave it. I stopped hiding. I decided to live for me. I took a chance. I met my soulmate. There were a lot of tears, a lot of  unanswered questions, a lot of good-byes, a lot of letting go. But, I survived. And now, even in the darkest of circumstances, I have peace.

This last year was my power year.

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What’s this year?

I guess we’ll just have to find out.

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It’s not fair.

As if it’s not enough that I had to quit my job so that I could be home with my children and get them through all of this….now, I have to take the time I need to devote to them, in order to prepare to defend myself against nothing. It’s just ElChuba and Stankcy’s accusations that I’m a liar. So, I have to go through and transcribe phone conversations myself, so I don’t have to pay my attorney’s office, cause now that I’m not working, I surely can’t afford it. (By the way, for anyone who’s looking for a last minute gift for my birthday Friday, I’d take a donation to my paypal account so I can keep my attorney in paper. It’s a vicious cycle because, as I’m trying to prepare for court, the kids are constantly interrupting, which makes everything more annoying and stressful. They’re just being kids. I want them to just be kids. I want to be able to enjoy them just being kids and I can’t. I HAVE TO DO THIS. And in the meantime, he does nothing…NOTHING. He doesn’t have to do a damn thing except sit back and complain and point the finger. When if he had been being a father to begin with, none of this would’ve happened.

Despite making an exception for supervised visitation so that he could see his children, it’s my fault that he can’t see them, because he can’t afford it. CAN’T AFFORD IT?  Listen, as a parent I can tell you – there is NOTHING that could keep me away from my children. NOTHING. If I didn’t have cash on hand for the visits, which are only $40 per hour for the social worker’s time – you better believe I do whatever it took to get. I’d ask my friends and family for help. I’d beg for it. Hell, I just start selling shit off in order to see my kids. IT’S AN EXCUSE.

This all just makes me sick to my stomach.

When we went to court last Friday, all he talked about was himself. He was more interested in covering his own ass than he was in his own kids and what has happened to them. He actually submitted an affidavit to the court, a sworn testimony, that said everything I told the court that happened to the kids had “no basis in fact” THEN we go to mediation last Friday, and he says right in the middle of it, that he knows something happened. What is that? I’ll tell what it is, aside from sick, it’s perjury.

Do you know he looked me right in the eye and said I can’t believe YOU’RE doing this to them. That YOU’RE keeping them away from their father. As if all of this is MY fault. I didn’t do this to them. In fact, when I went to him with it, he didn’t believe me. When I told him he could have visitation anywhere but there, he just insisted on ignoring me, said nothing to ease my mind, nothing to protect the kids, he just wanted his visitation. What choice did he leave me with but to stop visitation? Am I really supposed to rely on his merit? And then I am the one who tells my attorney I don’t want to keep him away from them, that I just want to protect them, I don’t want to make it any  harder on them, I ask for the supervised visits and then it’s my fault that he can’t afford it?


And you know what really sucks?

Being the only person whose stood up for the kids through all this and as if it’s not enough that I’m on my own and he’s denying it, I have to be persecuted. His stupid girlfriend has to start saying that I’m immature and that she thinks I have some kind of personality disorder. That’s what I get for doing what I’m supposed to do for my kids?

I’m thinking you know..how horrible to not have him on my side, on my kids side. And why does there have to be a side, why isn’t it a given? Why does everything have to be a fight? And why do I have to fight for my children, against their father?

I’m so tired of fighting.

It’s just not fair.

The 10 Basic Human Rights



This ancient axiom is considered by many to be the one commandment. You were born free, you are free, and only fear or value judgments will keep you from excercising this right.



The key words are self-respect. A phoney excuse or an unfelt apology will cause you to lose your self respect and that is never acceptable.



We are all free human beings and should be respected for what we are, not for what someone else wants us to be. Any forced change will not last or will result in new eruptions of unsatisfactory behavior.



You have the right to become all that you are capable of being in all areas of your life



No one else can relate to your position and know what is best for you or what you should do. It is your value judgement as to what you will do with your time and in what order you choose to accomplish your tasks.



Negativity programs you in the wrong way and thus is very detrimental to you. The long term effects of negative programming amount to a more negative life for you. People can only help themselves when they are ready. Many are never ready. They thrive on the attention they get because of their problems. If that is their game then let them play it by themselves.



In interacting with people who are not close to you personally, explanations and excuses weaken your statements and position. We all find ourselves in positions in which others imply that we owe them an explanation. Most of us are so well trained that we react automatically and comply to their wishes without thinking. Also, all too often we explain ourselves even when no one has asked “why?”



There are so many “should’s” that if “you did” you’d have no time left for anything else. Don’t “should” on yourself. You and you alone, decide what to care about.



 Logic usually works well in science, but it is never very predictable in human relationships and coping with people’s desires, motivations, and feelings. It is implied that logic indicates superior judgements, but between two people, more often than not, it is simply used as a manipulative ploy.




Changing your mind is healthy and normal, but other people may resist by challenging your right to do so. They will want explanations and the admission that your first choice was a mistake. “How can you change your mind after you committed yourself? You’re irresponsible and will probably make a faulty decision next time.” You must be aware of their limited viewpoint and let their communications flow past you, without affecting you.


From: Self Mastery; by: Dick Sutphen

This Morning

Pickle had a complete emotional breakdown this morning. He got in trouble for being too rough with his sister and when I disciplined him for it, he just lost it.

He was crying, shaking, he could hardly form words. Started talking a lot about his “Dad”, how hurt he was, how angry, sad.  It went on for about 40 minutes. We had a good talk. He hugged me and let me hold him while he cried. If you have a child on the spectrum, you understand what a rarity this is.

Then he wiped his eyes said he was going to be ok and went on about his day. Which was a pretty good one. He was helpful to me and his brother and sister. He was interactive with us.

Very interesting.

Nice recovery. I’ll take it.


I went to lunch with my Dad and the kids after church. We ate, the kids played, we talked and then we went our way and he went his, which is over to Oma’s (my grandmother – his mother) house for his weekly Sunday afternoon visit. About an hour later, I got a panicked call from my Mom asking if I could give her a ride downtown to the hospital so she could meet my Dad there, who was following my grandmother in an ambulance. I guess when he got over there, she was really out of sorts, wasn’t making sense, slurred speech, etc, etc. So he had taken here to an urgent care center and after examining her they called an ambulance.

My Dad was so upset and emotional. I felt so badly for him. When I put my arms around him to hug him, he was just shaking. It’s not often I see my father in such a condition.

They kept her overnight last night. They’re running all kinds of test to figure out what’s going on. Nothing they saw yesterday, pointed to a heart attack or stroke, but they were planning on doing an MRI today.

It’s just weird.  I actually went by the cemetery this past week, on what would’ve been my grandfather’s 80th birthday. I was really close to him. Unfortunately, he passed away when I was 13 years old. Anyways, while I was there, I had dusted some stuff away from the head stone and I remember that I thought to myself how weird it was that my grandmother’s name was already on the other side of the stone. It’s been there for some 14 years, and I’ve seen it before, but for some reason, on that day last week it just seemed strange.

Do you ever wonder if even little thoughts like that, little things that grab your attention when they normally wouldn’t, are little premonitions?

Another kinda creepy thing that happened was that when we were in the emergency room waiting for some word on Oma, I looked up and there was this State Trooper, walking towards me, looking right at me. *see post below* It’s not often that I cross paths with one, in fact I can’t remember if I ever have, other than seeing them on a public service announcement or the news or something. So, to see one in the flesh, so soon after having this so life like, real feeling, bad dream, kinda gave me the heebie geebies.

Anyways, this is all just distrction talk for what’s plaguing my mind, worrying about Oma. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers.



Midsummer night dreams

I have been having some weird nocturnal events as of late.

I’m really looking for some feedback on this one, cause it’s really starting to get eerie.

For the last week and a half, or so I have been waking up every night between 3-4am in the morning.

Now, when I wake up, I shoot straight up to a sitting position and I feel completely panicked. I feel like something is really wrong, I feel like something bad is happening right then, but nothing is happening, everyone is sleeping, everything is quiet. But it takes me a good hour or two to shake this feeling, calm myself and get back to sleep.

The bad dreams haven’t happened every night. They only started a couple days ago. The dreams are all different in the way that they happen, but they have the same end results … someone dies. Namely, the ex-husband.

The first one, was the most vivid one. In fact, it was so real, as I was crying in my dream, I woke up crying for real. In the dream, I am awaken from a deep sleep and I sit up in my bed and realize something bad has happened. I can’t shake it, so I go downstairs and grab a blanket, throw it around my shoulder and I’m sitting with the phone in my hand on the couch, waiting for it to ring because I’m waiting for the bad news. I hear a car pull up outside and hear the doors slam closed. I get up out of the chair and I walk to the door and open it and see two state patrolmen walking to the door. I look at the clock, it’s 3am. I go out on the porch with the blanket it around me and the first patrolman says, “Are you Mrs. EX?” before they say anything else I say to them, “It’s EX, isn’t it?” The one patrolmen shakes his head and the other begins telling me, he was drinking and driving, he was in his Jeep, there was an accident, he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, he was ejected from the vehicle. And I blurt out.. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” He nods his head and says he’s sorry. I crumble on the porch with my head in my hands, sobbing. He tells me they need me to go sign the papers to have his body released from the morgue. I explain to them that I can’t, because I’m not his wife. They tell me this was the address listed on his driver’s license. I start crying and I tell them, this was his home. I can feel the patrolman’s hand over the blanket on my shoulder as he tried to console me.

I wake up, shoot up in the bed, crying. It’s 3am. I’m still clinging to my shoulders as if the blanket that was wrapped around my shoulders is still there and it’s as if I can still feel that touch on my shoulder.

The next night, I dreamt that EX had killed himself. He called me and was crying. He told me he was sorry for everything. He told me to tell the kids everyday how much he loved them. That even if he hadn’t done a good job in life in watching out for us, he would be now and always. He told me good-bye. He told me he loved me and then I heard a gunshot. I dropped the phone and put my hands to my mouth and started shaking and crying. It then skips to his funeral. I can see him in his casket. But his family won’t let me in. They tell me this is all my fault and literally push me out the door, so hard that I fall. As I turn to leave, they actually throw stones at me. I can actually feel them hitting my skin.

Again, I wake up, it’s just after 3am and I immediately reach back and am rubbing the spots on my back where I felt the stones hitting me.

This thing about waking at 3am and the feelings I have, really get under my skin though, because I’ve heard on more than one occasion that 3am is considered to be the “witching hour” in which we are more spiritually attuned and closest to the supernatural. There used to be a old wives’ tale floating around that claimed this was why 3am was the hour in which most people died or “crossed over”.

Anyways, the last dream, wasn’t present time, but it wasn’t far into the future either. He was dying of cancer. I got a phone call from a woman. She told me that if I had a decent bone in my body I’d bring the kids up to the hospital to tell their father good-bye. He didn’t have much time left. I knew in my dream that the kids hadn’t seen him in awhile and I didn’t want this to be their last memory of him. So I went alone. At first, I thought the woman who called me was his now girlfriend, but the lady at the hospital had dark, mangy hair. She actually looked like a stereo-typical witch. This woman, whoever she was, started yelling and screaming at me, that I wasn’t going in there. That she only called me to bring the kids to her. A friend of mine (who is a nurse in real life) was there and she told this woman, that either she calmed down and let me see him without incident or she would call security and have both of us removed and he would no doubt, die, alone. I go in and sit in a chair next to his bed, and take his hand in mine. He barely opens his eyes at me and says my name. He grasp my hand in desperation but he seems to still have this anger in his eyes. I tell him “Just stop. Enough. We both know the truth. All this stuff you created between us has all been lies. I don’t care. And the only reason I came here, was to tell you I forgive you and that I love you. I always have. I know who you are and I loved that person, good and bad. You didn’t have to hide all that stuff and lie about it. I just wanted to help you make it better. I just wanted you to love you. I didn’t want you to hurt anymore. I want you to put the guilt down.” He starts to cry. I get up and take his face in my hands and kiss him on the lips. I get up to walk out of the room and I turn back and look at him, I smile and I say, “Bye” and he says, “Bye, Babe.

I wake up. It’s 4am. Wide awake, but this time I’m calm. I still feel like something is wrong, but I feel like I can face it. I’m not scared, even though I know, whatever this bad thing is, is still there.

Now my Mom, is kinda my spiritual guru. She reads a lot about this stuff and about different religious beliefs and ideas. Of course after weeks of this, I went to her about this. She told me that in the Jewish faith, 4am is considered be the time when God can most hear our prayers and that if you are ever woken from sleep at this time, that you should consider your spirit awakened and start to pray those things most laid upon your heart.

So when I woke up this morning at 4am, again … I immediately got out of bed and starting praying over my situation, for my children, for my family members, for healing, I prayed for my friends and their families. I prayed feverhently for a good 30 minutes. And all of a sudden I just had this peace come over me. This calm. This very unreal … serenity. I got back in bed and fell right back to sleep… peacefully.

Today – there were answers to prayer. Undoubtedly.

But I still have to wonder – what about these dreams?

More later

Money situation sucks badly. I needed my job, but my kids need me more. I’d buy lottery tickets if I could spare a couple bucks. I just want a fairie, genie, wealthy relative or friend to show up on the scene. Alternatively, I’d take a frozen strawberries and creme frappo from Starbucks to distract myself. The problems will return when I finsih it of course, but 15-20 mins of sheer happiness…. I hate money. Money is the least of my problems but the root of all them as well.

Who is this Paulo singer dude, and why is he stalking me? I’ve seen his face a least five times this morning in passing, clicking through…it’s starting to weird me out.

Horrible dreams last night – horrible. I don’t know what they mean, but i’m sure they are fed by my subconscience’s underlying feeling that something bad is going to happen. Death, I’m afraid is calling …. someone.


more later…

You can’t just tell it, you have to do it

This morning while I was sitting with the kids, eating breakfast, my Pickle was in a peculiar mood. I could tell he was thinking about something. So when Jedi and Diva were finished eating breakfast, I asked him what was up.

And he says to me, “Well, my mind is always thinking bad about Daddy. He just gets on my nerves.

When I asked him what he meant he said, “Well, I was thinking bout how he like always yells at me when I’m over there, but he’s nice on the phone. Like he’s pretending and it’s annoying. And ya know what else? He is always saying bad stuff about you even when I’ve told him to stop. And he says it’s because you talk about him all the time, but you don’t. And I tell him that and he just says Whatever. He never listens

He starts to get teary eyed and I hug him….he pulls away and goes on.

He doesn’t take good care of his family. Like, he says he gives you all his money, but money isn’t all you do to take care of your family. You have to really love them. Like you love us. Like Jer. Jer helps us with money but he does the other stuff too, ya know?. You can’t just tell it, you have to do it.

Quite profound. I didn’t really know what to say, 1/3 of me wanted to defend ElChuba (old habits die hard) 1/3 of me wanted to defend myself but 1/3 of me also understood exactly where he was coming from. The only words I could find, were “I know how you feel, hun and I’m sorry it hurts you.

Then out of nowhere he says all matter of factly:

And you know what else I was thinking? I just know Daddy is gonna do the same thing to them, his girlfriend and her kids, that he did to you and us, just like he did before to me and my first Mom and brother


I said “We’ll just have to hope that Daddy’s happy now and that he’ll figure it out by himself. He’s a grown up. It’s his problem, buddy. I don’t want you worrying about this stuff, please?

And he shakes his head at me and says, “He’ll never be happy – you know that.” and he walked out of the room.

In one way, I felt vindicated. My son knows. He sees. Without me having uttered a negative word about him, he figured it out on his own. And how disturbing that here, this 11 year old boy of mine is worried and exercising some caution about Stankcy and her children – and Stankcy, a woman who is thirty-something – these children’s mother, is sailing blindly into a very destructive port. I kinda feel bad for her. I know, I know, I shouldn’t. But it’s just because it’s familiar, it’s because she’s doing exactly what I did, well… I didn’t sleep with someone else’s husband. She defends him, she doesn’t want to hear it, she knows him so well, not her ElChuba, he loves her, and when she finally has to face the reality of it all, that he was never the victim, that he lied over and over again, that he used her, that everyone who warned you was right, that the “lies” they told were the truth, when his wonderful, close knit family of his shows their true colors and turns their back because everything is now her fault, instead of mine, as it used to be the Eggdonor’s, and that beautiful facade that makes ElChuba who he is – burns in front of her eyes, it’s going to be a very painful thing. Sucks really. I swear sometimes, I don’t even know how he looks himself in the mirror. All the lies he’s told everyone, his friends, his family, his own mother, Stankcy, myself and the lowest of all, the kids. His whole life is a lie. And that’s nobody’s fault but his own.

I need to admit how set back and ashamed I was by my own words to Pickle, that we should hope he’s happy now. The way he looked at me when I said it and the words that followed made me realize – wow – how distorted life has become since ElChuba came into my life. When did all of us cross into this universe where the world revolved around him and his is the only happiness that matters? What about me? What about his children?

I guess we got our answer.

Obviously, in other ways, this conversation killed me. Because now I know that all the times I bit my tongue or walked into the other room or went to a different floor to hide my tears or hush my words, all the encouragement I’d given my kids regarding their relationship with their father, even when they had had enough and despite all the pain he caused our family, all the excuses I made for him, when he didn’t show up, they were wasted, because, in the end, all the kids will figure it out and they’ll hurt just like I did when I figured it out, which is everything I’ve been trying to avoid.

He’s right you know?

The bottom line is that : “You can’t just tell it – you have to do it. ” and a million words could not have ever covered what ElChuba really does and who he really is.

Quote of the day: “What you to do speaks so loudly, that I cannot hear what you say.”

So much to say, so little time

Well a lot has happened in the last two weeks…

Children Services has been out to interview my kids. They also went over and interviewed PlayDoh. The stories were consistent, the details of the games, the porno, the acts and there was even more. Jedi revealed a lot more when he talked to the lady from Children Services. So much more. Pickle admitted to things he most certainly shouldn’t have done. Jedi’s story is consistent with Pickle’s that PlayDoh started it. Aside from that, Pickle is cognitively disabled and very sheltered, a lot of the “acts” that were acted out, were things he’d have NO IDEA about.

Yes, I know his history makes him more statistically probable but, in 9 years that I’ve been with him, there was nothing. But we are going through a divorce, which is a potential trigger considering ElChuba and the Eggdonor were going through a divorce when he was victimized.

This is just beyond fucked up. Especially since I specifically made the point about this being a potential trigger for Pickle so fucking clear!

(deep breath)

Let me be very clear about something …  I’m not trying to persecute this other little boy. I want someone to pay attention to him. Something has happened to him. Little kids just don’t wake up one day with these ideas. They came from somewhere and the most unfortunate part of all of this is … the social worker told me, ElChuba and Stanksy were more frustrated at the annoyance and hassle of the situation, then they are concerned for any of the kids. Her words, not mine.

Visitations have been nixed for the short run. He can only have supervised visitations once a week with a social worker present and he must pay for them, which means – he’s probably not going to see them. They haven’t seen or talked to him in two weeks, and the weirdest thing about it is, they’ve been just fine with that. Not only have they not asked for him … they haven’t said a word about him. That to me, speaks VOLUMES about the level of his involvement in their lives.

They all are in counseling now, and I’ve made an appointment for a forensic interview for them at Children’s Hospital at the end of the month. I just cannot even go there in my head right now.

I hear everyone telling me that I’m doing, everything I can, but it doesn’t seem like enough. These are MY CHILDREN, something horrific happened to them. How am I not to blame? I had a gut feeling something was wrong. I told my attorney. I told Jer, I told my Mom and I know there was nothing I could do… I know that. I couldn’t have stopped visitations or I’d have been found in contempt. I tried talking to ElChuba and he ignored me. But GOD DAMNIT – why couldn’t I stop this? Why didn’t the years of me talking to Pickle, and years of counseling do anything to protect him from this happening again? From it happening to another child?

To say the least, the days after the interview have been hard. Hard to get out of bed in the morning, hard to leave my children. Unexpected panic attacks, fits of rage, waves of sadness. It’s been overwhelming. I had to go to my doctor and get something for my nerves. I was given a couple days worth of Xanex and then switched over to something way less addictive. Addiction seems to run in my family so, I am very leery of drugs. They want to put me on a anti-depressant, but I just can’t. I’ve tried everything on the market over the years and it seems to work for awhile and then it just fades off. Aside from that, my problem isn’t so much depression as it is that my mind won’t stop racing. That my friends, is anxiety. So, now I have to see a psychiatrist. Not a therapist, a psychiatrist. I’m thrilled – really.

I resigned from my job. I had to miss a couple days of work in June because of going to court and because of things needed since this happened. Then I have three additional days this month, that I would need off to go to court and to take the kids to the appointments Children Services feels they need to have, not to mention the counseling appointments. When I went and asked for the additional days, he told me that while he understood my situation, he couldn’t give me the time off and I should probably resign. What choice did I have?

Because of this – we withdrew our application to adopt Puggles. Any extra money we thought we had will now go to paying bills and my attorney for all the extra work he’s had to do. This also means there won’t be extra money for traveling this summer, which is a bummer. I was really, REALLY looking forward to taking the kids to places without having that sick to my stomach worry of how ElChuba might drink or embarrass us. God knows I want nothing more than to get the hell out of here now. I’m hoping family might make it up here. God knows I need them. My parents, God bless them, are just awesomely supportive and helpful. I don’t know where I’d be without them.

I cannot give enough credit to Jer. I can’t tell you how many nights he’s literally rocked me to sleep while I sobbed and then he turned around and got up at 5 am to go to work. He didn’t bat an eye when I told him I resigned, he told me we’d get by. He told me there was probably a reason for it and that what I was doing for the kids was more important than anything I’d do at work, or any paycheck that would provide anything else.

Aside from what he does for me, he’s been great with the kids. He helps me put them to bed at night and tells them their safe and we’re both here and he’s not going to let anything happen to them. When Jedi has been waking up in the middle of the night, Jer gets up with me and helps me get him back to bed, talking him down, showing him everything is ok. We’ve been doing a lot of stuff as a family, picnics at the park, water gun fights, watching movies together … and it makes a world of difference.

I know this is an all kinds of fucked up, far from fairy tale world I’ve gots going here, but Jer is definitely my knight in shining armor. He’s surely saved me … and my kids.

So, I’m hanging on.

We all are.         ~          Together.