Digg an experiment

So part of my self defined thing right now at the new job.. I feel that I must get really technosavey on all things Bloglike. OMG there is so much stuff out there..my eyes feel like they are bleeding,,my head is spinning..and my brain doth hurt. I am trying to understand Twitter. Feeds stuill freak me out, but yes, if you lost my feed yesterday..it's because ?I added FeedBurner...what exactly does that mean..IDK, but it might have changed my feed and the Blogger templete thing said I shopuld..so I did! Anyway, there is that handy little subscribe linky up at the top of the sidebar...so if you lost me..just hit it! I am trying to figure out all the differences in the feed sites.. i guess there is a million, but just a simple "subscribe to" in Feedburner means that you can apply it to whatever reeder you choose? At least thats what I get from it and it keeps things looking neater. I like that. I also just joined Digg. Not sure about that..like another WTF??, but I did, as an experiment, submitt the NCFA piece there. I fiqured if there is ANYTHING that non adoption touched folks need to know.. it's that for starters! So..I have added a "digg" button to the end of that post.. and I guess the way it works..the more people that "digg it" aka vote..then the more folks see it. You know where this is getting you, right? Yeah, if you would please..hop on over to the original post here and go to the end of it and just hit that little Digg button will ya? Hey, it's for the good of the world! Meanwhile, as I meander my way through the Blogoshere...I keep finding new ways that we are suppose to be pushing our blogs for traffic. It's rather interesting..in fact there are a crap load of blogs just aboput blogging and getting folks to your blog. Really...I'm swimming in this stuff. I guess later today the Bloggio Blog will move to it's permenant address.. right now it is just a numbered IP addy...and then Then I will have "Work" blog and "Personal" blog. I get to use the work one to comment on the most popular blogs...non of them are adfoption blogs! Can you believe that! And I can't even mock what is the favorite blogs by stupid shallow Americans coz I have to woo these blogs eventually! Such conflict! I want to poke at the cat thing, but I can't ..and then to my horror.. I do end up being amused and finding myself laughing at sopme of these things. I AM shallow!! waaaaa...or maybe it just IS really funny??? I don't care..I'm not going to Digg it!

Working baby!

So much for my lame attempts at being a welfare Momma! For all those who think it is easy to get government handouts even when you're are broken. busted and broke..it's not. Luckily, I did manage to find a job. Now can I tell you how cool this job is? I'm on day two. And technically, I'm working right now. See, there isn't really *that* much to do as the busines is in baby stages..and they are still building the back end softwear to make this whole Blogger and Marketer connection happen. But it is very exciting and interesting anyway! For one, OMG.. I now exist in TOTAL geek / nerd land..but in that excellent way. Like there are real programmers and coders and techies here like no bodies business. I have become the least techie one in a manner of seconds, but I am the Blogger. And I do know my way around the blogsphere. And then, the more we do this stuff, the more I find that I really am pretty excited about the ideals of this new business. It's just cool to give more weight and recognition to other bloggers even if they are not Adoption bloggers. Man, there are blogs about everything! Do you know that ther is a blog just for BedBuGS!. I could tell you how I found that, but then I would have to kill you! lol. No, I did not need to refer to it so I could get rid of my own bug issue as I have none. Anyhoo... Bloggio is pretty neat. And now, since I don't really have aything left to do, I think I am going to go home. I found out that 75% of real estate bloggers have their email addresses acesable and that only 8 out of 98 will need to be contacted via comments on their blogs. And I wrote a bunch of copy for thank you emails for joining and such. And I sat in on a website graphics business card type meeting. But now..my belly hurts and..really... I might as well go home. Yeah, it's that kind of non officey place too. And the people are really nice and I have a really comfortable new chair that looks pretty too and I am actually typing with two hands again...sometimes.

Blogging pay off!

Here in broken arm land, I have had the lovely distintion of being on Disability for the past almost four months. Since I was pretty much over the whole "working at a resturant" anyway, I have continued with my often in vain job searching looking for something that's interesting, perferably realted to something I have experience in and maybe pays decently. After the break, I added in "can do one handed", and as time went by and that disability check looked more and more pathetic, I dropped interesting. Heck, as our bank account dwindled, I stopped even thinking about paying decently. And then it reached an all time low of "OMG someone HIRE me!. The want ads are small to begin with here. The market is sad. Economically this area is strung out. You would think that over three/ four plus months, I would have mailed out a crap load of resumes, but it has only been a few a week at best. I had one interview back around Thanksgiving. All and all, it's been depressing. I have NEVER had a problem getting a job before. Really, it got bad. I sent my resume into Stewarts. And they didn't even call! But on Saturday I went on the RegionlalHelpWanted.com, posted my resume, and answered the first ad. Before I could finish looking over the site, I got a call from the first ad. And yesterday, I had my interview and today I got the call. And I start Monday. Guess the funniest part about this? I got this job because I blog. Its a Blog job. I am a blogger technician. The first Blog Tech for Bloggio. I find and contact other bloggers and then assist in providing them with Press Releases that pertain to their content. Like kinda of what I do here with say Donaldson PRs, or Ethica, or Origins-USA..cept not all adoption..at all. And like what we did for the Stephanie Bennett Blogger Blitz..giving out the info to bloggers so they can choose to write about it..or not. Oh, and somehow in that there is payment to Bloggers for taking part, but not on the condition that they write about the press release. So that's very cool. This company is into Ethics! :) So officially, it's another sign that Bloggers get credibility. That we matter. And I can get down with that!. And there is that whole "get paid to Blog"..not that I am getting paid to Blog..I'm geting paid to research Bloggers and contact them...but I like places that give Blogs weight! And then there is the "Blogger Alliance" which I really, REALLY dig considering that almost four months later I am still walking around with a broken humerous due to lack of insurance. And all and all..I think I am pretty excited. It's only 10 minutes away. It's something I can do one handed. And its a geek job. where I can sit on a computer all day..talking to bloggers..reading blogs...getting paid... And Rye had to eat his words. lol That part's really funny.

Lost: Triggers for Birthmother

So at 3 o'clock every afternoon, I walk down Wall Street to go pick up the kids from school. Today, being Wednesday, Scarlett gets dropped off at 4:20ish after Brownies, so I was looking forward to some quiet walking time with Tristan. Tristan is in Kindergarten, so his teacher brings the kids for release up to the audorium. Each of the three kindergarden classes have their own door and as I walk up the stairs to Tristan's, I see the sub. I smile, walk over, and since she is a sub, I identify which child I am there to collect. "Hi, one Tristan please!" "Oh, Tristan...he's not here" And, yes, I can see that. I am looking at three children...the boy is black, then there are two girls, I think.

All I know is my five year old boy is not where he should be.

So I say, "I see. Where is he?" Still smiling, mind you, still smiling. And she begins to tell me this story about Tristan and his friend Gavin, and how all day they had been talking about how Tristan is going home on G's bus and they are having a playdate today, and they were so confident and excited and, oh boy, she didn't check the bus list, and he's on the bus. And I laugh, I really do. Because I do find it amusing that they kids are so sure of who they are and what they can do that they managed to snowball this poor young inexperienced overwhelmed sub. And so, yes, I laugh as I begin to push my way, rather unorthodox like, into the "out only" audotorum doors, because, while it's funny, really, she is esentially telling me that MY baby is on a line for a bus going to another kids house, so funny step aside...where the heck is my kid. And while I felt bad enough for this poor young inexperienced overwhelmed sub and I said so, I looked her straight in the eye and declared that I'm not a freak out kind of mommy, so no drama, no scene..

just I need to go find my kid NOW! I was in the school by then, still laughing, as I matter of factly repeated: Where is he?

And out comes something about how she doesn't think they will let him get on the bus. And how his friend has an afterschool program, and his sister pulled him out of the bus line. So he's probably not on the bus yet, ha ha. And we can go see in a minute, but first she has to see these three non-Tristans into their parent's arms. And I'm all like..OK, you stay here and do that, but I have to go get him. Where is this "bus line". That's all there was to this. Did she not understand how simple this all was?

And that I am going to get him, now, that I must, that I am his mother.

And for whatever reason she just could not just let me in unescorted...so to the other kindergarten teachers, I am smiling and saying "Hi, it's me and I have to get get Tristan who is trying to go on a bus!" The other teachers know who I am. I am at the school all the time. I was at that Xmass shop for two full weeks. But, I guess this sub didn't know me, so she pawns off her three last kids or some thing on the other teachers. I don't know, coz I am out of there, in the main lobby, and it's all a blur. I know my eyes are darting about. I here her tip tapping behind me, calling directions..in the main office. There is the cohort and the older sister. Questions fly..where? who? where? All I know is that with every ounce of my flesh I have to find my child. People call out to me, I don't know who, it matters not, I hear familier words:

Scarlett has him..going outside to find you.

Sigh of relief....ah, the sister. So thankful for her wise almost 7 years. She pulled him from the bus line and he is safe now. Walking outside, still looking, but less fevered now, I hear her cries, the story unfolding from her end. She is the hero. He doesn't want to talk about it. Tristan is embarrassed, he runs ahead of me on the way home. ********

My best laid plans always seem to get fouled up.

I try to think of everything and keep it simple, but I find that I can only do so much when people don't follow directions. When Scarlett was six months old, I had to take a trip to New Hampshire to pick up Garin from camp. She had made the drop off trip with us: two mommies, two 10 year old boys, and a six moth old baby. We survived it, but it wasn't exactly a funtime, so plans changed for the return. The other mommy and I were going to go up alone that Saturday night and then gather the boys on Sunday and return home. I was going to leave Scarlett with Rye, but with arragements for her to go to his mother's that Saturday night when he worked. Since he had to work at 3 on Sunday, and we had a good 6 hour trip home, the plan was to leave Scarlett safe with Grandma and I could get her when I returned. I don't know what made Rye decided to get Scarlett that morning. Why he felt that my return by 3 was possible or probable even for that matter. This was also complicated by one of our cars deciding that stalling was a good idea, further complicating issues. I do know that he was rather annoyed when I informed him that no I would not be back by 3 and that's why our daughter was suppose to say at his mothers, and since he got it in his noggin' to get her, he could fiqure out something to do with her, but I was gonna be there when I got there and that was that! Hump! And so when I did arrive home and went to the resturant he was working in to get the car that was working, I fully expected to see my sleeping infant daughter in her car seat on the bar. But she was gone. Rye had found a baby sitter for her, but I could call this sitter, Bethany, and get my baby. "Where's her number?" "Umm here...oh..I can't find it...call Brianne or just wait..she'll call. Brianne knows Bethany" Right. You messed up my carefully laid plans, pawned off our daughter, lost the number to where she is, and I'm going to be calm about this? I remained calm, went home with Garin, started unpacking, and tried to call our friend and neightbor Brianne, who knew this unknown babysitter who has my baby, Bethany. And I call Brianne, across the street, and let the phone ring 6times, 12 times, ring ring. Brianne is not answering her phone. So I cross the street and go upthe three floors to Brianne's attic apartment. The gentle tap-tap, the knock-knock, the demanding pound-pound. There is no sound from Brianne's apartment. I call Rye.

I tell him of this inability to find our baby.

It's close to 5 o'clock now. I need to breast feed her. My boobs hurt. I want her home. I have him ask Dylan, Brianne's brother, who he works with him where Bri is. He has no clue. She's sick. She's hung over. She's passed out.

So then what about this Bethany chick who has my baby?

What's her last name so I can look her up? unknown. What does she look like? Mid 20's long brown hair, slim. Where does she live? Somewhere on Washington Avenue. What does she drive? A Brown Audi.

My husband lost my baby.

My breasts are about to explode. This chick could be on the next block over. I'm getting in my car, I announce,and finding my baby. And I do. I drive over to Washington Avenue and slowly drive up untilI find a brown Audi and then I park my car. I walk around looking, and then I ask people I see, going up to there back gates, busting in their yards: "Do you know who owns that Audi there? Do you which house Bethany lives in..she has long brown hair, she's an artist?" Finially, this one guy points me to the houses accross the street..and as I am looking...I know my child is close, and I will find her even if I have to go up to every door on this block...I hear a faint cry. I listen hard now.. I know this cry..that's MY baby crying..and I follow the sound.. up the block, to the green house, up the side stairs, I don't even knock on the door....and there she is. My baby. I can still see her: sittng on the kichen floor, pissed off..hungry..crying..sweaty, it was July..in just her diaper...

I am MacGuyver. I am Sherlock Homes. I am super slooth. I found my baby.

We go home. *********** I have always been more partial to Lowes rather than Home Depot. For one,Lowes opened here right at the same time I bought my house and there were days, in the first two years on non stop house renovation, when I ran over there three times a day though it was usually more like three times a week. In anycase, Lowes beat HomeDepot by a good year, and they got my preference for that.

I was one of my must-get-a million-things today visits during the first 6 months when Garin got lost.

I think it was a Saturday as David, my-not-yet-out-of-the-closet-still-almost-fiance, was there and so was Garin. Garin was 6. I was getting paint mixed or something, and David was going to go to another isle to pick upsomething else. Garin was going with David, and so I happily started thinking of whatever project was next, walking down anopthe warehouse sized isle, taking measurenments in my head. About ten minutes later, David came back. Without Garin. "Where's Garin?" "He came back here with you" "When?" which is a stupid qustion because obviously he didn't or I would know where he is! "Right after I left here..he said he wanted to go back to you..and he went back to paint" About ten minutes ago. Realization that my 6 year old has been without an adult for almost ten minutes in a huge store.

It's at this moment that my stomach turns to lead.

And he might have "gone back to paint", but I had walked away since I did't expect the 6 year old to have to find me. I think I make some cutting remark about letting 6year olds walk around warehouses by themselves. It's a very quick conversation as my panic level is rising. I find myself running back to the paint counter, but only find the harried paint mixer who thinks I'm freaking out because my paint is not done. I manage to shush them regarding paint excuses, and communicate that the boy child is missing. David is there too, trying to calm me, a store official too. I am running up and down the huge warehouse isles, down the middle one, look up and down, paniced, almost crying, where could he be?

My eyes searching, haunted by what they do not see. Yelling his name, I do not care who hears me, who thinks me crazed, what do they expect, my child is lost.

My thoughts are getting darker as he could not have wondered off so far in such a short period of time. How close are we to the thurway? How soon can the state police put up roadblocks? I am three seconds away from making the store manager lock down the whole store when I see him. Stupid child, stupid boyfriend, stupid store, stupid paint. I am mad. They made me worry. We gather our crap together and go home. **********

The last time I saw Max he was two days old and was in the hospital's see through infant bassinette.

I had been sitting in the rocking chair with him, knowing that both of us were getting discharged that day, but he was going his way, and I mine. Saying godbye was one thing, handing him off, as if I had my fill and had enough for a lifetime, was something else entirely. It was just never going to be pssible to say yes, I was done. I know someone said it was time. I think I placed him down by myself. I couldn't watch them wheel him away. I turned my head to dry a tear, then looked back, and my baby was gone. Two days after that, he gets picked up from the foster home by his new mother and father. He is adopted.

Three days later, my own mother comes and finds me. She takes me home.

*********

Over 19 years later, I was in the same building as Max again. We had planned, we had this date together.

No longer a baby, my son and I were to met again, but I didn't know his dorm room number, I had no clue where he was. I had a 13 floor building filled with hundreds of 19 year olds and one of them was mine. He is here. Fustrated by this last minute hiccup, I am not leaving.

I have waited 19 years and I will find him.

I know he is in this building. I will smell him out. I am MacGuyver. I am Sherlock Homes. I am super slooth. I do not care who hears me, who thinks me crazed, who I end up bothering, what do they expect? That's all there is to this. It is so simple. I am going to find him, now, that I must, that I am his mother.

It's been 19 years, but I am his mother. I will find him..today!

I wait in the dorm lobby. Kids come and go. I peer into their faces. Which one is mine? Who looks to be waiting for more than just the bus? I walk up and down the corridors. I look into the open dorm room doors. I stop other kids and ask for him by name. It is after an hour of this, that I realize that the kid freezing his butt off in front of me, is the one I seek. As I approach him, recognition is made, tears come, smiles explode, tight hugs, hug again....so long..can't believe it is true..you are here...ahhh...

No longer lost

New Survey for Moms

New Survey for Moms There is a new survey out for moms and dads who have relinquished or had their rights terminated. I just went and did it. It was very painless, no real deep soul searching writing required. And it only took about 10 minutes. It is hoped that OVER 600 parents will take take this survey by December 1, 2008. I personally think that is very possible if we spread it around. Obviously if you are an adoptee, sibling or searcher on here and KNOW of a someone who can take this survey, please ask them to do so. Feel free to repost on other boards, forward to contacts, etc. yada yada yada.... Roberta MacDonald who is head of NC Coalition for Adoption Reform and ACC State Rep has asked me to spread this around and I think it's a good thing. Once done, this survey should become a much needed comprehensive bench mark for our experiences. It clearly should spread light on the truth regarding the mythical "promises of confidentiality" and could assist in showing support for restored OBC rights for adopted persons. So take a minute, hit the linkie, and then spread the word, will ya? Now this is the official copy and paste: ************************************* PLEASE SPREAD VIA EMAIL LISTS AND BLOGS!! The Surrender Survey is for parents who has lost a child to adoption. The survey takes approximately 15 minutes to complete. Your name and other identifying information is optional and if given will remain confidential and be used only to verify information. PURPOSE: The purpose of this survey is to apprise the long term effects and attitudes of mothers (and fathers) who have lost children to adoption, particularly in terms of any “promises” or expectations of confidentiality. Accurate data regarding attitudes, perceptions, beliefs and practices affecting parents in these situations is vital in formulating upcoming legislation in areas of family preservation, foster care and adoption. We hope this survey will be the most comprehensive study of parents who surrendered parental rights or whose rights were terminated resulting in their children being either adopted or remaining in foster care. Your cooperation – regardless of any previous such surveys you may or may not have participated in – is highly appreciated. This surveys replaces the “BirthParent Project” which, though it had 600 respondents, was found to contain some technical difficulties upon analysis of the results. Further, this survey will be advertised in newspapers in order to solicit responses from parents who lost children in the “public”, in order to reduce the limitations of relying on a select audience. Please take the survey ONCE for EACH child you have either relinquished or have had your rights terminated for. Our goal is to have 600 OR MORE parents take this survey before December 1, 2008. This survey is limited to American adoption practices therefore you need to reside in the U.S. If you take this survey and know of any other parents who have either relinquished or had their rights terminated and can take this survey; PLEASE spread the word. Please go to the link below and take the survey and thank you in advance for your cooperation: http://www.questionpro.com/akira/TakeSurvey?id=844922

"Anger is more useful than despair."

Quite a few years ago, I gave up on NOT sleeping with the TV on all night.

I use to make a huge point of taking the "I-have-no-function-but-for-the-sleep-timer" controller, and using the sleep timer, since Rye HAD to have the TV on to sleep, but I hated to wake up at 3 am to an infomercial. Eventually, I lost both the battle, the clicker and lost the light sleeping that woke me up. Or perhaps I stopped caring?

I will admit that I have been fascinated by the Steambuggy at 4am. And I rented the carpet doctor based on the information drilled in my half asleepness.

But that's not the point! Last night( or like last week because it has taken me forever to finish this post), we decided by mutual agreement that Terminator 3 was good, comforting "going to sleep" TVness.

There are definite criteria that is used to qualify something as sleep worthy. It can't be too interesting, or else you might get hooked and stay up. Sitcoms don't usually work unless you know of and both approve of the next several shows after that initial half hour. Hearing the Jefferson's theme song WILL wake me up from a nice doze and I WILL located the clicker in the dark and I WILL change the channel. I can't deal with loud, big fighting or suspense..unless it IS low enough on the volume end, but that's usually not the case if Rye is watching. He can't deal with lifetime or girlie crap and requests that the channel not become an infomercial by 4am. That's a new one, I think, in response to my penchant for the History Channel or NatGeo (as they call it now). Funny how I find ancient dead folks, usually Egyptian, Bible stuff, and Huge Earth Ending Natural Disasters to be sleep inducing, but I do. I think he's bored of it. Lately we have been digging on HBO for the "no infomercial" factor, though I can also get down with Sports Center as football totally hypnotises me...like a triple shot of Ambian, I am down for the count. Blues Clues has that effect om me too, but only Steve, not Joe. I miss Joe. 

So back to last night, though Term3 is violent and full of suspense and explosions, once you have see a movie a million times..it's comforting in a way. Granted, out of all the Terminators, I would say I know 2 the best, and all that time travel bit makes my head spin, but if you stop thinking that now he runs California, Arnie's voice is kind of like a lullaby. So, we deam it sleep worthy, and I use my good arm to arrange my half good arm, get all cozy, and close my eyes. And right before I drifted off, I heard my new favorite quote:

"Anger is more useful than despair."

I don't know why Arnie said it. I don't care. I was half asleep and made a point of telling myself to remember it. I almost forgot too and had to look it up right now, but wow..how very accurate.

Let's say it again: "Anger is more useful than despair."

Being separated from ones child through Adoption...I don't care who you are or what experience you had, what "journey", there are only so many reactions, or conflicting reactions that a woman can have.

Maybe that's wrong of me. Maybe that makes me judgemental or close minded. Maybe I have become a stogy know it all beeotch. But you are gonna really have to pull my chain hard to convince me that you are really happy about your child's adoption. That's all there is.

I can get it that you think or thought it best. So did I.
I can get that you feel or felt it necessary. So did I.
I can dig that you believe or believed that it was a good thing. Me too.
I can understand how you feel or felt that it was your choosing, your decision. Here too.
I can recall an odd feeling of relief in just knowing there was a plan, that I had an out, a do-over, something to honorly exempt me. Ha.
I remember what it was like to want to please my "friends" at the agency. That I thought they cared. So I know that you did, or do, or so want to believe them.
I even know what it is to feel that there is no way out...other than through.
I know we are suppose to "look on the bright side", "remember the joy that you gave (puke)" or "how happy they all are", and NOT dwell on the negative.
Look, I heard the pep talk,
I dug the pep talk,
I repeated the pep talk and I have even rah rah'd it to my horror.

But...... No matter how much we think what we thought or even still think...you know you're not happy.

Anything but happy really.

We can be Peaceful. Content. Pleased with the outcome. Experiencing Acceptance. Not Regretful.

Those are the more commonly accepted adjectives promoted by the adoption industry to describe the relinquishing experience. Makes it sound like surrendering a child is less painful than the average root canal.

But, still, no one really can admit that they are happy... coz then you would be instantly labeled as a cold hearted shrew, a cruel vile wrench and some repeat version of blame harnessing whore.

Lets face it..you give up your flesh and blood to complete strangers because you are too screwed up in some fashion to get it together enough to pull it off, you damn better not have the nerve to try to be happy.

And that's NOT ME saying that...that's a HUGE population of our society that really feels that way.

So if you are hurt to hear that harshness, well then you better toughen up, coz wearing this label is no cake walk...after over 20 years of living with this title, I know what John Q Public thinks about our great act of sacrifice.

Most people usually have some vision of the relinquishing mother as either deserving of her bad fate or happy to be relieved of the burden of her child...thankful and grateful to the agencies and adoptive parents who did our jobs for us. Again, not me saying that. So even the terminal clueless ones, they know we are obviously not happy.

We can be Peaceful. Content. Pleased with the outcome. Experiencing Acceptance. Not Regretful.

I think we can, often, very, very successfully really believe that we are Peaceful, Content, Pleased with the Outcome, Experiencing Acceptance or Not Regretful.

I think that we can really, really think it so to some degree, but in some odd way...it's a denial. And I hate saying that. I really, really do, but that's just not all you can feel. Not all. Because if you had all THAT: Peace, Contentment, Pleasenessm acceptance, and dare we say.. satisfied. And you had none of the bad stuff, well, then, ...you would be happy.

But no one, I believe, can really come through this adoption crap unscathed.

You got to throw in some description of a 2am drunken crying jag. Or, damn I hate my burnt out memory coz I can't recall who wrote this description..and it was like Suz or Barb or Jenna....., you got to throw in the "twenty minute deep soul sobbing on the kitchen floor".
You got to give equal weight to the endless wonderment about a whole lifetime lost or just those moments when you stare at the moon and think:

"Maybe he is seeing that same moon now, over the same dark sky, and thinking about me?"

You just can't ever convince me that anyone who really, really thinks this whole surrender a child thing is a picnic on the grass. Not once you actually begin to live through it. Not if you really, really look and allow yourself to feel what is not in your life.
I don't care.
Even if you tell me that it was the best thing EVA and you would not change a thing, you can't convince me that it still didn't SUCK bigtime!
And you can try and tell me that your cousins-sisters-bestfriends-coworkers-daughters-sisters-mothers-boss's adopted babies birth mother was totally ok with the whole thing ad you know coz you saw her and you really talked with her, and you might think she tells you everything.

But I betcha she don't tell you about the 20 minutes on the cold kitchen floor.

No matter who your cousin might be. We keep those kitchen floor moments for ourselves. It's personal..you know? But we all got those moments. I know we all do. Maybe some Mommas can't or don't admit it yet. Maybe they cannot. Maybe they are, just like so many of us, just trying to survive and breathe though another day, but even if we keep our pain cloistered to the most private moments of our existence, I know those times are there.

So I figure, mixed in with all that conflicting Peace, Contentment, and Acceptance, there would be a dose of Bitterness, and Regret.

I know we touch raw grief, sadness, with varying degrees of melancholy. There is survival induced denial and hyped phobia with anxiety. There is despair. And there is anger. We have no one to guide us, but each other. To understand where we have come from, to know where we are going next, to tell us what is expected, to remind each other that what we feel is normal, that we are not alone. And it's hard, it's real hard.

It really sucks to have to be the one to try to kindly inform a newer mom that,"Noooo, sorry, but, it's never really over.."

I really do hate using the word denial..there is something very insulting to me about it, but there is a truth there too. I have lived it and seen it too many times. We all seem to describe the experience in similar terms...waking up, thawing out, unfrozen, coming into the light, knowing the truth, finding, the Matrix, the blue pill...in all cases, there is some sort of reference as to changing, becoming more aware..and that does ease nicely into denial theory.

Plus, at this moment, it serves as a nice catch all for this false sense of happy. So that's my disclaimer for liberal usage of denial, but whatever you choose to call it, I think you know it when you get OUT of whatever it is that we are in. And it's there.

And again, at the risk of coming across as a terrible judgemental ass, I have to admit it that I really do believe that if you give a mom enough time to live with her loss and the opportunity o really explore the truth of it...she's going to eventually admit that it sucks. I know that might be terribly unpopular for some, but I have to be honest..I believe eventually we will all (98% to be exact)eventually declare that relinquishment sucks donkeybuttocks.

Now once you get to that wonderful point where all that Peaceful, Content, somewhat Pleased, Accepted, Not all that Regretful stuff gets clouded with these conflicting feelings of pain, anger, despair, betrayal, grief, loss, etc, etc, etc.

Often the new icky feelings are much stronger, much scarier, and tons more powerful than the mild manner bland crap that got you through the night...you are pretty much screwed.

I hate to be blunt like that, but there you are. You're screwed.

Coz chances are that the mild manner bland crap bounced around in your little mind for years, wasting your time, and that baby of yours is long gone. Granted it would have been way more useful to have this great surge of emotion when you could have actually done something to change your lot in life, but now that's just crying over split milk. Can't do nothing to change the past and all...

So nowhere you are. Years too late, separated from your child, feeling misunderstood by most of the world, screwed by situations, taken advantage of by a rotten industry and just plain pissed off. There's lots of anger there for sure.. as their should be. And lots of hurt there too. And the despair..as there is nothing you can do to change it.

Or is there? As Arnie said, the Anger is more useful. The anger becomes fuel. The anger you can use. And it can be harnessed. Used.

 I just love that quote.

Took a shower today!!

I bet you take for granted that small luxury, but I have been resigned to tepid sponge baths and lukewarm shallow tubs for the last three months after the Great Arm Break. I manage to take care of business, but it is exhausting, slow going, and I never quite feel so fresh. But last night, Rye and I took off the bulky fiberglass cast. Prompted by our very dwindling financial resources, I was disgusted by my inability to work, drive, contribute, live. Since we, in our uninsuredness, could not purchase the recommended Humeral Fracture Brace as recommended by the orthio ($400 plus bucks during Xmas..I think not!), I got my fingers walking and found something..similar..on Amazon of all places. It arrived and after relocating the missing instructions, last night we played doctor..not in the fun hanky panky sense. So after my cry of "Let's take it off"..we gathered in the kitchen, reread the brace instructions, and heated up the pan of water..more about that later. With both Tristan and Scarlett seated in viewing chairs, Rye started unwinding the already decomposing ace bandages, and cutting away the fluff. The fiberglass had fused together, so at one point the DeWalt drill was applied. Yes, I cringed and squawked. But eventually, with a woozy feel, we unearthed my poor damaged arm. Ugly is not the word. Coated with a thick, smelly layer with three months of dead skin, it is deformed, warped, skinny and oh, so weak. Very woozy now, I instructed Rye to feed the children, while I went to lie down and get a feel for it all. After a bit, I scrubbed off the dead stuff very gingerly and went down stairs for the fitting of the new brace. I have to say, this thing was very cool. Looking like a piece of plastic..thin, white...kind of like the stuff one does needle point on..it gets flexible in hot water. Actually, it turns to translucent gel and is completely moldable. Very weird stuff! So somehow we got our way through the fitting, triming, moulding, setting, cooling etc..not too badly considering that we really have no idea what we are doing! The new brace gives me an elbow now. We allowed that to be free considering that it seems like the bones ARE attached, but oh, my muscles are so very weak. It is very use to staying at the one angle, so even straightening it is very odd. I am having trouble lifting it at all, so while the new brace allows me to actually wear some normal clothing, I am still very far away from 100%. What is lovely, is the fact that it has a ZIPPER on it..hence, OFF for the SHOWER! Granted it still hung like dead weight, still took forever, and I felt woozy as crap afterwards, but..I am clean! yeah