There's a First Time For Everything

Grace is visiting her father in Arizona this week.  She texted me yesterday morning and said that they gave her rollerblades for Christmas.  I asked if she got wrist guards too.  She said she did.  I commented to my coworkers that she'd probably fall and break her arm.  Within an hour, I received a call from her father.  They were in the emergency room because Grace fell and broke her arm.  Oops.  She was skating as fast as she could which made her hit the ground even harder.  She broke her right arm.  She's right handed.

In the emergency room, she tried to come up with ways that she could still rollerblade.  She thought that maybe it would be safer in the house.  She wasn't pleased when both her father and I told her that she wouldn't be rollerblading anywhere until her arm was better.

When the doctor asked her to rate her pain on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the worst, she said it was a 10.  They clarified and said that 10 would feel like her arm was going to fall off.  She changed her answer to 9 because she didn't want her arm to fall off.

 

After they got her arm immobilized, gave her some codeine, and sent her on her way, she called.  This is how the conversation went:

Grace:  There's a first time for everything!
Me:  I hope this is the last time!
Grace:  Hmm...probably not.
Me:  I don't want you getting hurt again!
Grace:  I don't want to get hurt either, but you never know.

She called again in the evening.  That conversation went like this:

Grace:  Mom!  Do you know what my arm feels like?
Me:  Actually, I broke the same bone in the same area so I really do know.
Grace:  No, Mom!  Do you know what it FEEEEEEELS like?  It feeeeeels like it's grooooowing.
Me:  Like growing pains?
Grace:  Yeah, but WORSE!
Me:  That's a really good way to describe it.

She called again to say goodnight:

Grace:  I'm going to try to sleep now.
Me:  Do the pain meds make you sleepy?
Grace:  NOPE!  I thought they would but they don't!  They make it hurt a little less though.  They make my fingers feel like they're asleep.
Me:  That's probably from the swelling.
Grace:  I try to move my fingers sometimes, but it doesn't work.
Me:  Be careful.
Grace:  I know, Mom.



Overall, she was one heck of a trooper.  She didn't cry for long and she charmed her doctor and nurses.  They even signed her temporary cast.  Now, she needs to come home so I can hug her and love her and take care of her.  Being 1,000 miles away from your baby when she gets hurt really f'n sucks. 

HELP!!!

I'm at the end of my rope.  Desperation doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling.  Each day gets worse, no matter what I do.  I've done everything anyone has suggested I do to try to remedy the situation, to no avail.  Here is the story.  Please forgive me if it's not entirely coherent.  I haven't slept for awhile.  I'm probably telling something that should be kept private, but like I said, I'm beyond desperate.  I'm not even going to proofread:

On Wednesday, January 18th, 2013, Grace's father emailed me and said that he was moving to Arizona with his wife and their children.  He and his youngest daughter were going to leave the following Sunday, just 4 days later.  He asked me to talk to Grace before he picked her up that Friday for their regular weekend so that she wouldn't be blindsided.  I told him that he had to tell her.  He called the next night.  She was devestated.  The next day, he was supposed to pick Grace up for their last weekend but he and his whole family came down with a stomach bug.  Grace was expecting him to pick her up after school so I went to the school in his place.  She broke down and sobbed for a very long time.  David and his youngest daughter felt better on Saturday and came down and took Grace to dinner.  Then, he left town.  His wife and their other 3 kids moved within the next few weeks.  They never called or made an attempt to say goodbye to Grace.

The next few months, I spent many nights holding Grace as she sobbed and begged for a reason why her daddy left her.  I had no answers so all I could say was that I didn't know and assure her that she didn't need to worry about me leaving.  Weeks would go by and he wouldn't call or text.  Grace noticed this and would ask me why he didn't call.  I didn't have an answer for that either.

Her father and his wife came back that Spring for work and spent a couple of hours with Grace.  That was all she saw of them until July when they flew her to Arizona for 2 weeks.  During that time, I received many phone calls from Grace begging to come home.  Within the first 2 days, the cops had been called on her 13 year old step brother.  The night before she left, he had to be taken to the hospital because he "wasn't in a good mood."  Grace repeatedly told me that she didn't want to be there and that no one paid attention to her.  Honestly, she complained about not getting any alone time or attention when her family still lived here so that wasn't a surprise.  My sister lives about an hour from where her father lives and picked Grace up for a couple of days.  Grace complained for a few days about a bad earache so I asked her father to get it checked out.  He didn't and the day after she came home, my Mom took her to the doctor and she had a double ear infection.  She also got home 9 hours late because her stepmom didn't get her to the airport in time and she missed her flight.

Over the next few months, Grace seemed to be settling fairly well into her new life without having much contact with her father.  I began dating in November and Grace showed signs of struggling with me adding another person to our lives.  I thought it would be a good idea for her to talk to a professional so I got her on a waiting list to see a child therapist.  She began in March of 2013.  Grace took months to even start to open up.

I April, the man I'd been dating got in a horrific car accident.  That brought up a lot of stuff for me from a wreck I'd been in when I was 18.  I spread myself very thin in an attempt to take care of him and make sure Grace was getting everything she needed.  It was very obvious that my attempts were not good enough.

Grace went to visit her father for 2 weeks over the summer again.  This time, she only called when she thought everyone was asleep because she said her stepmom didn't like it when she called and would say things like, "Why aren't you happy here?" and "Why do you need to call your Mom all the time?"  Grace cried a lot on the phone and said she didn't want to be there anymore.  If she heard someone coming toward her room, she'd hang up the phone so no one knew she was on it.  Something in her wasn't right when she came home.  I still haven't put my finger on what it is.

For a couple of years, I had been trying to encourage Grace to sleep in her own bed.  She has always had nightmares and would frequently end up in my room in the middle of the night.  That was fine when she was small, but she is an active sleeper and the bigger she got, the more elbows to the face and knees to the stomach I'd get.  When I was a little girl, I had the same nightmare problems so I thought I was pretty qualified to help her get through them.  I tried to teach her ways to calm herself down and feel safe when she woke up from those nightmares.  Once I told her that she had to stay in her room, the fights began.  She started spending more and more nights at my Mom's house next door.  My Mom has a bigger bed so the knees and elbows aren't as big of a problem.  Grace's therapist thought that for the time being, Grace spending the night next door was okay since it meant that she would sleep.  After a couple of months, we worked with the therapist to get Grace to start sleeping at home again.  The fights returned with more intensity.  We had major blow ups.  The cops got called because of the yelling.  After a few of these fights, we got better for a month or so.  We had our arguments like mothers and daughters do, but no screaming matches.

My boyfriend moved in with us on October 1st.  I found out I was pregnant 2 weeks later.  My boyfriend and I discussed how we would involve Grace in every step of the pregnancy so that she wouldn't feel left out and I talked to her therapist about how we should share the news with Grace.  She wasn't happy at first, but then appeared to be and said that she was excited.  She wavered back and forth ocassionally, but I continued to remind her how important she is to me and how I was so happy I could share all of this with her.  I've also told her that it's okay for her to not be excited.

In November, Grace's father came back for work and visited her.  Suddenly, she was saying she wants to live with her dad.  All of the hurt she had felt by his leaving was gone and replaced with a very intense anger toward me.  One night while her father was in town, I asked her to clean her room.  She erupted and ended up calling her father who came and got her.  After she spent the night with him, the requests to go move with him became more frequent and her anger toward me stronger.  The night before her father left to go home to Arizona, he picked Grace up after school and he kept her overnight.  He texted me while he had her and said that Grace wanted him to ask me if she could move in with him.  It was a long text all about how they would love her and keep her safe.  I told him that the subject was not appropriate for text and that we would talk when he brought Grace home.  When we talked, I told him that it is wrong to ask a mother to willingly give up their child.  I ended up telling him that he had to get a lawyer if he wanted Grace to move and that I think he's a piece of shit for leaving his daughter the way he did.      

After Grace's father returned home, I emailed him a list of things to think about before pursuing legal action.  I included things like Grace not handling change well and needing to accept the changes that have already occured before adding more, pulling her out of therapy when she's just starting to open up would be a huge setback, that I have done nothing to give a judge reason to take her out of my home, and that in a few years when she's in a better place mentally I would be willing to consider her moving.  He just responded with how much Grace will hate and resent me for keeping her from him and that I'm ruining my relationship with my child.  I called a lawyer and I was correct.  Grace's father has nearly no chance of gaining custody or being granted the right to remove Grace from the state.

The weeks have gone by.  The hatred from Grace has gotten stronger.  Last week, her behavior got so out of control that I took her to the hospital where they kept her for a night.  I have received insulting texts from both Grace's father and stepmom telling me that I'm damaging Grace and messing with her head and repeating how much she's going to hate me.  They wanted her to come visit on winter break and I said Grace could go for the whole second week of her break.  Her stepmom wanted her on different days that started later than the date I said Grace could go and meant that Grace would miss between 1 and 3 days of school.  I said that she can't miss school and asked why she couldn't go visit sooner.  There were 3 days that they wouldn't even consider.  Instead of telling me why, her stepmom told me that when Grace moves in with them, they will remember how unhelpful I've been and they would be sure to tell Grace that it was my fault she couldn't visit.  I emailed her father a few days later reminding him that she can go anytime that whole week and suddenly, he booked a flights on dates that Grace was not in school.

My sister happens to be on the flight to Arizona and asked if she could drive Grace to her father's.  I asked him last night and he said no.  When I said that I just thought I'd ask because it would save them a drive, he said that I never seem to want to be helpful.  I had asked him after a previous onslaught of insults not to speak rudely to me or I would cut off contact with him from myself.  He wouldn't stop so I blocked his number from my phone.  A few minutes later, he texted Grace to call him.  She did.  Then all hell broke loose.  Again.  It may be in my head, but Grace seems angrier after she talks to her father.

Grace refuses to sleep.  She hasn't gone to sleep before midnight at all this week.  I've explained to her what a lack of sleep can do to a person and she doesn't care.  She only has hateful words for me.  She tells me I'm horrible, that my home is horrible, that I'm the worst mom ever, and that she hates me.  She'll scream for hours.  She has flat out said that she will not quit acting this way until she gets what she wants.  She is suddenly convinced that her father didn't leave her and has turned her father into a perfect being who can do no wrong.  She says that everything is my fault.  I'm the reason her life is so bad.  I've never done anything good for her.  I've explained to her that her behavior is not acceptable and her words are very hurtful, but she denies it.  She doesn't see me as anything but evil.

I can't take anymore.  This is not my child.  Our home is a war zone.  I've tried to ignore her when she has her outbursts, but she screams louder.  If I yell back, she yells louder.  It's gotten to the point where I've screamed at the top of my lungs and said things I shouldn't.  I've done exactly what I've told her not to do.  I hate myself for that.  I'm at my breaking point.  I can't sleep.  I'm not eating well.  I feel like I'm dying inside and losing my daughter and my unborn child.  I have no idea what to do.  The psychiatrist at the hospital said that Grace's behavior is normal, but it can't be.  No matter what I do, Grace sees it as bad or says it doesn't matter.  I'm afraid for my daughter's safety.  I'm scared she's going to hurt herself.  I'm scared she's going to run.  I'm scared that she's going to be trapped in this angry little body for the rest of her life.  She thinks I hate her no matter how many times I hug her and tell her that there's nothing in the world she could do that would make me not love her.  She's very cold toward me and my boyfriend.  We hardly go out without her.  We've included her in nearly everything we've done.  We've gone to great lengths to help her cope and feel comfortable.  I don't know what happened.  I don't know where to turn.  The psych ward and the police don't have any solutions.  They just say to keep doing what I'm doing.  I can't.  I can't go on watching my daughter like this.  She's lost all of her priviledges and her phone.  This weekend, I'm going to take all of her toys and fun stuff out of her room and not give them back until she earns them.  I don't know what I'll do before then.  There's not a single place in my house that is quiet when she's screaming.  It's subzero outside so I can't go out there.  I'm stuck.  She's stuck.  We're stuck.  We're miserable.

I'm not a perfect parent.  I know I've make mistakes.  I yell too much, I kicked a wall once out of utter frustration, I'm not patient enough, I don't make us sit at the table for dinner, I don't do a lot of things right.  At this point, I'm not sure if there's anything I do right.  Maybe I should let her go, but if she goes, I'll never see her again.  I know that.  When she's asleep (the very few hours that happens), I'll sit and look at her because that's the only time I can see anything that resembles the wonderful child that I've raised.  We used to be close and laugh and enjoy each other.  We haven't done that in a long time.  It's always tense.

So, what the hell do we do? 

 

Human Growing

I'm 8 weeks pregnant.  I've known about the mini human in my stomach for 4 weeks now.  I've felt the symptoms for 6 weeks.  Yeah, I know.  That's way earlier than most.  The same thing happened with Grace.  Anyway, I couldn't figure out why, one day at Walmart, I suddenly felt as though I was coming down with a severe case of the stomach flu.  I figured it must have been the perfume I smelled and the general ickyness of Walmart.  The next day, I got so tired that I slept half the day away even though I hadn't really exerted myself.  Those things continued for a couple weeks until I took a little test and saw that blue plus sign.  I took 3 tests to be sure that I wasn't mistaken.  Then, I was relieved and happy that the sickness and exhaustion were for something pretty kick ass.  Babies are cool, yo.

In the weeks since, I've had a periodic repulsion to tomato sauce and meat and most food that is suggested to me.  Salt has been my friend.  Nearly all scents make me very queasy and my sense of smell has become incredibly sensitive.  That did come in handy yesterday when I smelled my co-worker's salt and vinegar chips because those things are awesome and he gave me one, but usually, I'm smelling lots of things no one else can.  I Febreezed my whole house because I could still smell dinner from 2 days before.  John and Grace could not.  Also, if I'm not in bed by 8pm, I'm so exhausted the next day that I can barely see straight.  Sleep is good.  So very good.

We saw the heartbeat last week on an ultrasound and that was incredible.  That's not a good enough word to describe it, but a good enough word doesn't exist so incredible will just have to do.  The heartbeat looked light a little light that flickered really fast.  I can't wait to hear it and I can't wait for Grace and John to hear it, too!  I've done this once, but they haven't and it's been a long time since I have so it's all kind of new to me again.

I don't think Grace has decided how she feels about the baby yet.  That's okay.  She's going to be the best big sister ever once the baby is born.  Just 32 more weeks...

   

Am I what?!?!

Today, I had the pleasure of having a lovely man with an indistinguishable accent call the office.  This isn't necessarily unusual, but the conversation was.  Here it is.  I won't use quotation marks except for the lines I remember exactly.  Of course, there's really only one really important line and I'm pretty sure you all can figure it out on your own.

Me:  "Thank you for calling _____________.  This is Adrienne.  How may I help you?"
Him:  "Tell me how I can help you."
Me:  "What do you need?"
Him:  No, you tell me how I can help you.
Me:  I'm sorry, I'll need you to tell me what you need so that I can find someone to help you.
Him:  "Are you fucking stupid?"
Me:  "I'm sorry.  What was that?"  (I was sure I had misheard him)
Him:  "Are you fucking stupid?"
Me:  "You've reached the switchboard for a company that helps people with their aircraft repairs.  No, I am not fucking stupid."

And then I hung up.  I've had many people speak to me with a tone of voice that clearly infers that they think I'm a moron.  Never have I had anyone be so blunt.  My initial reaction to these people is always to get really mad.  This time, I didn't know if I should laugh or cry or both.  I went with laugh.

I'm so glad this day is just about over.  I'll go home and get to work on clearing out and packing up my basement.  You know, because that's so much fun.

Ocelot or Quarter Hor....se?

I've been having some trouble sleeping lately and when I have slept, the dreams I've had haven't been all that amusing.  Last night, the tables turned and I had myself this lovely, little gem:

I was walking toward my godforsaken Saturn outside my friend's house in Wymore, NE.  As I approached the vehicle, I noticed a pretty damn big mountain lion snoozing underneath it.  I froze in the middle of the street, mid stride. I thought that if I didn't move, the mountain lion wouldn't see me.  Ha!  My plan failed (big surprise) and the mountain lion began sauntering toward me.  She was very menacing.  I mean, aren't all mountain lions a wee bit menacing, especially when they're heading directly for you?  Anyway, I was still frozen and convinced my life was about to end when all of a sudden, the freakin' mountain lion turned into an ocelot and started rubbing against my legs and purring.  It smiled.  It was weird.  I was relieved because ocelots are much less scary that mountain lions.  Right?

                        Mountain Lion (will eat your face):                        

Ocelot (will snuggle your face):

Anyway, moving on...

I petted the now ocelot and got in my car.  The window was down and the ocelot half crawled through the window to put her arms around me and snuggle my head.  She was squeezing me and nuzzling my face and still purring.  Her whiskers tickled and made me laugh.  Actually, I think it was the whole experience of being hugged by an ocelot that made me laugh.  Anywho, she wouldn't move.  I thought she was asleep so I carefully got my phone and took a picture of us with her sweetly cuddled up to my face so people would believe this really happened.  She woke up.  I turned to her and asked, "Are you an ocelot?"  She replied as she walked away, "I'm a quarter hor..."  I ran after her and said, "I'm sorry.  I didn't hear that last part.  Did you just say you're a quarter whore?"  She wouldn't answer me.  So, either she was a quarter whore (whatever that might be) or a quarter horse disguised as an ocelot that was disguised as a mountain lion.  As I pondered this, I woke up.

I continued thinking about what this whacked out but not scary dream might mean.  I've got no clue.  I did see a picture of an ocelot the other day and my uncle was talking about a Saturn down the street last night, but really?  How did that all combine into this thing?  I have no idea, but I have a strong urge to cuddle an ocelot.  I'll just have to settle for my cat.

Once a Decade Family Reunion

My family doesn't do reunions very often.  Every once in awhile a family member or two will come to town, but it's been 12 years since the whole family got together.  I've decided we need to do this more often because it's just a heck of a good time.

Cousins and aunts started trickling in on Thursday.  By Friday night, everyone was in town.  We had a big spaghetti dinner at my Mom's and had a great time reuniting.  John got to meet the family too.  He fit in perfectly.  It was pretty low key.  The following two days were not low key, but fantastic all the same.

Saturday started with the majority of the family participating in The Color Run up in Omaha.  It was a blast and we all ended up nice and colorful.

After the run, we went out for lunch.  Those of us who had run went in all of our colorful dust and those who didn't run went looking like normal people.  The restaurant staff didn't mind us colorful folk.  The other patrons gave us a lot of weird looks though.  A LOT of weird looks.  Luckily, we're used to people looking at us like we're nuts.  Well, I'm used to it.  I think the rest of the family is too.

We ate ourselves silly and then went home to clean up before splitting up for various movies and/or the blues bar before heading home and passing out.  Well, I went home and finished baking graduation and birthday cakes before crashing.

Sunday was high school graduation day for one cousin as well as family potluck day out at my Uncle Tony's house.  It was an amazing day.  There were so many people, so much food, and so much laughing.  There was a trampoline that kept the kids entertained.  Some of the adults even had some fun on it.  Oh, and the cakes were devoured and compliments were made which completely cured my feelings of cake baking inadequacy.

 

After the potluck, some of the family migrated from my Uncle's house to my driveway.  A nice variety of "yo mama" jokes were told, junk food was eaten, stomachs and faces began hurting from tons of laughter, and it was perfect.

Monday, the out of towners went home and Grace and I went to John's family reunion.  It was equally as good as my family reunion, but much calmer and just a bit smaller.  I'm so glad that Grace and I were included in his family's reunion.  They are very nice and welcoming people and I really enjoy spending time with them.

All in all, it was a completely exhausting and incredible weekend.  I think we need to get together more often.  Every single one of us is so different and yet, we all get along so well.  My family accepted John as quickly as his family accepted me.  We were all as disorganized as we could be, which is how it's always been, but no one seemed to care a whole lot even when we didn't have eating utensils.  I love my family.  

Camping

Every year, Grace's school takes the 4th graders on a 2 day, one night camping trip.  They stay in cabins in a retreat area and do all sorts of fun activities including canoeing, fishing, playing in the dirt, scavenger hunts, smores making, and watching "the video" about puberty.  Grace is a 4th grader and was thrilled to go.  I volunteered to be a "cabin mom".  I only did the overnight part so I wouldn't have to watch that video.  I thought it might be awkward and I was already subjected to it when I was a kid.

Here is a list of the bad and the good, no, the incredible parts of this trip:

The Bad
1)  The girl who bullies your daughter being assigned to your cabin and having to be an adult and not backhand her.
2)  Cockroaches in the cabin.
3)  50 girls wanting to take showers when there are only 3 shower stalls in the bathroom.
4)  Being in charge of 8 girls who all want to go in different directions, not listen, and who are exhausted and stinky.
5)  The death glares given to you by the cabin moms from the lower level of your very thinned floored cabin because they think you were letting your girls yell and stomp all over just to aggravate them. 
6)  Allergies.
7)  A loudly buzzing and fairly large bug flying in your ear as you're trying to fall asleep.

The Incredible
1)  The view.

2)  Watching Grace interact with her classmates.
3)  Grace not being embarrassed to be seen with me.

4)  Seeing an owl and still being absolutely terrified but not having a panic attack.
5)  Stargazing with Grace and her classmates.
6)  Smores.
7)  Hiking.
8)  Picnics.
9)  Witnessing the wonder on the kids' faces discovering nature.
10)  Sleeping in a cabin with the windows wide open and beautiful trees outside them.
11)  Giggles.
12)  Seeing Grace's teachers and principal dance.
13)  No ticks or mosquito bites.
14)  Having meals prepared for me and not having to clean up.
15)  Being in the cabin closest to the bathrooms.
16)  Having 2 moms to each cabin instead of one and having the other mom be fun and not a fun hater.
17)  Realizing that the boy who has had a crush on your daughter for 2 years is really pretty cool despite the fact that he eats his boogers...or so I've heard.
18)  Waking up to silence and getting to see my sweet, little girl.

Overall, I think it was a darn good trip.  Sure, there were a couple of scrapes and arguments and general disarray, but the kids had fun and so did the adults and there were some awesome memories made.