“I love when somebody says about a woman, ‘Oh, she’s too much. She’s too much for me.” Too much of what? Too much of an opinion? She laughs too loudly? Stands too tall? Takes up too much space? What would be the right amount and not too much? She’d have to be less. That’s what you are saying. You’re saying BE LESS, if she’s too much. You know what I think? I think she should not give a f*ck about what you think about her.” ~ Quote by Mary Katherine Backstrom
All the Feels
Oh….does this give me all the feels inside. I have been told a lot of things over my life. That I am too loud, too opinionated, can’t Biblically submit to my husband because I’m too “Type A.” I have been told that no one will ever take me seriously because I ask questions or because my hair is pink (currently purple).
Over the course of the last 2 years, I have been told that because of those above traits that I am not a good mom and that I shouldn’t raise my children. I should quiet down, conform, be SMALL, be LESS THAN, fit in, don’t make waves, SHUT UP.
So, that is what I have done. I’ve stayed home. I have shrunk back, slept alot, eaten alot, cried alot, hid, allowed people to walk all over me, speak to me in ways I would never let them before, and so many other things.
I think when it truly hit me was when I was getting ready to go on a little day trip to see some family. For the first time, in forever, I did my hair and put on makeup. I wore something that covered 95% of my tattoos and I looked the part. It was very much something that a woman, my age, would wear and it didn’t call attention to me at all. I even wore real shoes. Then, we arrived, and I sat in a corner and smiled as I should. I spoke when I was spoken too and just quietly filled the smallest space known to man.
The fact that I wore shoes didn’t faze anyone in that room but 3 people. They commented on it because they were fully expecting to me to wear something that was…well…me. I said that I didn’t want to do that because I wanted to not embarrass anyone. I just wanted to blend.
Words of Love and Wisdom
My sister…her face…she loves me. She said why would you want to blend in. We wanted you here because of who you are and not because of any other reason. She loves me for me. All of me. The sparkly, glittery, tattoo-y, purple-haired human that I am.
See, I didn’t want to stand tall. When I draw attention to myself, I tend to get the judgemental looks and words of others. Words that cut me down and not lift me up. Actions that forever change the course of my life and not in a good way. I wanted to shrink and be so small yet be there because I love these people and I wanted to show my support.
Her words have been bouncing around in my head ever since. Then, I heard this quote, and it all begins to fall into place. I am NOT too much. I am ALLOWED to take up space. I am BEAUTIFULLY AND WONDERFULLY created. These ADULT BULLIES will not stop me from being who I am. I have allowed them to take up TOO MUCH of my brain space and enough is enough.
I am going to have purple hair.
I am going to get more tattoos.
I am going to occasionally swear.
I am fluffy.
I am amazing.
I am good.
I am a DAMN GOOD mom.
I am an AMAZING wife.
I am beautiful.
I am creative.
I am feminine.
I am worthy.
I am a child of the King
For those that are reading this, you are those things as well! Be chunky and wear a crop top, if you want. Wear glittery things. Color your hair. Be loud, have opinions, love those that have differing opinions because that is what we are called to do. I have a couple of good friends that are my polar opposites.
I love that we are! I learn from them, respect them, love them. Whether you are big, little, old, young, middle-aged, athiest, your sexual orientation, your family dynamics…I love them all. I have no desire to judge any of you because I have been judged for far too long.
My tribe may be the size of the “period” at the end of the sentence, but they are faithful and they are true. We can have great discussions and not agree yet we can still love each other. That is because we are allowing each other to stand tall, be seen, take up space, and be themselves.
Yesterday, I documented my story on one of the worst social workers I have ever met. There have been some real winners but she took the cake. I do not want to leave that conversation with a bad tastet in anyone’s mouth. So, now I will share my Experiences with WONDERFUL Social Workers.
I simply cannot rave enough about Carla. She was so gentle, thorough, and kind from the beginning to the very end when we closed our home. Even afterwards, I have been known to call her about things and she is still just as amazing.
This woman has a gift. I’m so thankful to her for all of her help, wisdom, and love getting us through that horrible experience. Then, she was so gentle when we moved into our next (and last) placement.
Placement #2 Social Worker
We accepted another placement in March of the following year. Honestly, we were apprehensive and very guarded. I feel, at times, I did my kids a disjustice because I lived in fear of them leaving at any moment.
Their social worker was phenomenal to work with. When she called us about this placement, she laid it all (mostly…well, what she knew) on the table. She made no demands of us, no “contact me daily with updates or else” type of things. Everytime there was a court date, I knew about it and attended. Rarely did I ever have to testify but when I did, she thoroughly prepared me.
We walked in as a united front against their perpertrator. We cried with birthmom as she lost custody. She listened to me cry when I had had enough of behaviours and didn’t know what to do. She simply listened and encouraged.
Again, I’m in awe of her amazingness. Now her supervisor was a piece of work, but you can’t control the stupidity of others.
Our mandatory classes were taught by a professor of social work from Murray State. She was precious. I’m not gonna lie, it was like watching paint dry taking these classes BUT she always brought candy.
I think the only time I struggled was not with her but the content of the class. We took our regular PS-Mapp classes, then Care Plus classes, and then Sexual Abuse classes. The first set was boring, the second set was eye opening, the third set…she just brought me chocolate and told me to eat my feelings. It was tough. For everyone, us, other couples, and Gail. Just a tough subject.
She was so accommodating to my husband’s work schedule. She went above and beyond to help us even though he could not be “in” the classroom. Gail worked with him one on one and that sacrifice is one that I appreciate.
I have so many friends in this field. Some work in schools, some in offices, some in counseling but all of the people I know are phenomenal at their jobs. It is easy to hyperfocus on the failing system and the workers who just don’t care. Yet, there are ones that do care and work so hard.
This is a very flawed system from the beginning to the end process. It is easy to come in, do a job (poorly or selfishly), and go home. The people I personally know tell me it is NOT easy, they work hard and their hard work is affected by their supervisors, judges, or the court, and they don’t leave their job at work. They always bring it home and sit with it.
Do you know how hard it is to “sit with” such trauma, abuse, and neglect? I would say I can’t imagine but I know how hard it is. It is hard whether they work with children, adults, or the elderly.
Now, that is a crap job. I know of one investigative worker who is like the person I documented about yesterday. She needs to be fired because she is not in this for the good of the children or their parents or the foster parents. She saw the bullshit, didn’t pay attention to it because she was all about numbers and removal, and ran with it. Destroying lives as she went.
However, I personally know 3 and 1 investigative officer. The officer, I adore. Him and his family are why kids begin to feel safe and loved. Another one is one that was so gentle and kind when her services were needed. So thorough. I’m so sad that she moved on to another position.
Then there are 2 that I wanted to dislike. Yet, I didn’t. See, they are the good investigative reporters who can see through the smoke of false reporting. They do their job, they are thorough, but they see through the bullshit.
They made it easy to talk to, to be honest with, to ask questions of, to help with resources. They know when they walk into a place that these are good people in extraordinary circumstances. Again, the see the false reporting and after the first report…guess what? The reporter is documented! They SEE the lies and they will not stand to see a good family drug through the mud.
We have had more good than bad experiences being involved in the system for 15 years. I’m so thankful for the good ones. Kids, adults, and the elderly deserve to have a voice that speaks clearly for them. Those accused deserve to be heard as well. Honestly, those investigators also need to sort through the false claims and the real claims in order to perserve the family unit. I mean, in court, it is pounded in your head that reunification (if a child is removed) is always number 1. The courts want the nuclear family to remain intact. They want to see the birth family succeed, get help, ask for help, heal, and so forth. That is when the case is substantiated.
Then there are the cases that are bullshit and a good worker sees that. They do their jobs gently and with class. Yet, they see the truth. There are “revenge” calls where a person is seeking revenge on a family. There are the “well meaning” calls where they think something is going on but don’t know for sure. Then there are the down right lying ones. Lastly, there are the calls that are true and someone needs to step in and intervene. Good investigative social workers can distinguish between them all.
Thank a social worker today, a counselor, an investigator…pray for them, their safety, and wisdom. Pray that the system begins to work and children who need help are helped. Those who falsely accuse answer for their choices as well.
I think we can all say the The System is Flawed Yet there are some amazing people that you can find tucked up in this flawed area of our government. I have been a part of the social services world for 15 years. Our first adoption was from the foster care system. We learned quickly…be mindful of who you can trust and nothing is as what it seems.
That is a sad statement, ya know. With our VERY first experience in this world, we were so eager and naive. We knew this what God called us to do. Our goal was give a child in need a home filled with imperfections and love.
We had no clue.
None about trauma, interrracial things, cultural things, and we just knew our worker and the kids’ worker would be completely honest in all they did.
Let Me Backtrack
OUR R & C worker was fantastic. She was honest, asked hard questions, and did her best to advocate for us. To this day, I can still call her. She remembers my husband and me and all our children. She was the best for us and I’m so thankful for her. She is a gem in the world of social work.
However, our kids’ social worker was a piece of work. I should have known something was off when she kept questioning our desire to expand our family. We initially was just going to try and adopt one child but a sibling set came available. We didn’t hesitate.
It was going to be a tight fit but we knew that we knew that we knew these kids were meant for our family. We were not a foster family. It takes some special people to be foster parents. I know many and they have the most sincere, loving hearts ever. For us, we knew that we didn’t want to love and then have them leave. It would have been hard for our other 3 children to understand and I thought I wouldn’t recover if that happened. So, we were considered an “adoption only” house.
Back in the day, there was a “concurrent” path. It may still be, I don’t know. I’ve been out of the loop for 15 yrs. This means that the child(ren) are walking down the path towards adoption. This can be for many reasons. Birthparents aren’t doing their caseplan, there have been no visits, there has been more than one complaint, or the child(ren) have been in the system for close to 17 mths out of 23 mths consecutively.
Once we understood that we would be considered “foster parents” for a moment or two, that TPR (termination of parental rights) had already happened with the birth father’s and the birth mother was set to relinquish her rights soon.
Statements Made by Their Social Worker
I seemed to ignore the BLARING statement of “I wanted to adopt these kids. I want them where I can see them and be in their lives forever. These are my dream children. You will let me see them and give me daily updates, right? Even after you adopt them, right?”
I assumed all social workers loved “their” kids and wanted to hear from them. Honestly, we thought this was normal because we had never had a placement. I had neglected to tell our R & C worker. She would have handled it.
Again, we were naive. We aren’t anymore.
Once she grilled us for a very long time, she consented to bring the children to us. She gave us her personal cellphone number and told us to text her their daily routine and a picture, everyday. Again, I thought that was normal.
It is not.
I did that, as well as, email her daily. The kids came with the clothes on their backs and 2 bottles. That was it. There were no clothes, no baby stuff, no toys, nothing. Our daughter, Shay, was 2 years old. Our son, Tay, was 10 mths old. They were so precious and so terrified. It was heartbreaking.
Kicking Into High Gear
So, I had 5 kids 10 and under. I homeschooled and I did everything that was required of me from the state. We had taken all the classes, passed all the things, did monthly visits with our R & C worker, stayed in CONSTANT communication with the kids worker. We did all the things.
It was an adjustment.
A good one and boy did we love them, provide for them, embrace them and their culture, and did all we could do. Yet, my kids were VERY sick when they came. It started with a constant cold which ended up with some asthmatic issues. My daughter had ringworm on her nose…which she blessed that gift to ALL of us. It was constant.
Doctors Upon Doctors
We were constantly sick, now all of us. I cleaned constantly and they were always on some type of medication. At one point, I would have the 2 babies and Noah all in their chairs doing breathing treatments. We were at the doctor’s office all the time. That part was very hard. We just couldn’t get well.
We did weekly visits with biomom. I went into this being told that I would come to the office. Then, the kids’ social worker would come get the children. Next, I would leave for an hour and let them have their visit. It was important to me for that connection to be there. I had empathy for their birthmom. She is a product of the system, as well. She never had a chance to live a full and normal life. It is really sad.
Now, is that how our visits went?
Uhm, no. Thank you to the unethic duties of this particular social worker.
I remember the first time I took the kids. I had ALL of my kids with me. It was my understanding that I was just to pull up and the social worker would meet me outside. Okay, no big deal. Well, I pulled up. I had fixed the kids’ hair and had them looking all spiffy for their mom. Again, these visits were important to me because it is important for the kids to see their mom.
As It Happened
When I pulled up, I didn’t even get my car turned off. Before I knew it, my side door flew open and there were 2 women, I had never met, were crawling into it grabbing at the children. That terrified all the kids. I got out and asked who they were.
I was quickly told that she was the “real mom” and she was going to get her kids back. The other lady was a friend. I tried to blow it off and make peace with her. I didn’t want her to fail. I wanted her to be a part of her kids’ life. I knew she loved them and they loved her. I was trying to soften the moment.
The social worker was no where to be found. These ladies jerked the kids out of my van and quickly began screaming at me because I had done their hair wrong. I apologized profusely because I simply didn’t know. I was willing to learn.
She continued to scream at me for everything. I sat there and took it. Why? Because I knew this was a hard moment for her and I didn’t want the children to be subjected to 3 (me, bio mom, and the friend) women who were escalated. That wouldn’t have helped anything.
She was saying horrible things to me for about 30 minutes until the social worker finally walked in. She looked at me and just smiled that smug smile. Inside I was traumatized and she sat in the back, listening, and did nothing. She did nothing for me and nothing for the kids that she loved and wanted to adopt.
I told her that I would never do that again. It was so upsetting for me, for my kids, and for Shay and Tay. I brought my kids to every visit. I drove them an hour, weekly and the social worker NEW IN ADVANCE, that she wouldn’t be there. She never told me. She just let me drive up there with 5 kids and 9 times out of 10, my kids were puking. Again, they were ALWAYS sick.
She Didn’t Stop There
This social worker went even further in her actions. There was a point, after a visit, that my kids brought home the flu. Well, per usual, we all got the flu. It was the deep dog, old-fashioned flu. For kids, in the foster care system, you can’t just “ride out” a virus. They have to be seen. We were becoming great friends of our pediatrician.
Well, this time, we were all bed ridden because we were all so dehydrated from vomiting and diarrhea. I called and made the kids an appointment and then realized I was too weak to even drive. My husband had to work and we didn’t have any options.
I did what I was supposed to do. I called the social worker and asked if she could take them. I had already called and talked to the nurse. She said there was nothing they could do because it was viral, but she understood that they had to be seen. I was already doing everything I needed to do.
Well, she came and picked the children up. Then, HOURS later, she called and said that they had been admitted to the hospital. I called my husband and he came to be with the other 3 children and I flew to the hospital. It wasn’t completely necessary, from what I was told, that the children even be admitted. Yet, because they are “foster kids” they went ahead and did as she asked.
They were only in for that day and I never left their sides. They shared a room and we snuggled. I thought that was the end of that sick saga but boy was I wrong. A few days later, we were better and I was deep cleaning, sterilizing, all the things in my house. It was a few days before my son’s first birthday.
I received a call from a number I did not recognize. There was stuff piled everywhere. The kids were happily all playing because they were feeling better. I answered the phone and it was the supervisor of my kids’ social worker. There was no clarity for me. I couldn’t understand why she was calling and not the social worker or why she was calling for that matter.
In a moment, she said “we had court today and you need to have the kids ready to leave in an hour.” First, I was not told about court. Second, why was there court and what was being discussed. Third, what the hell did she mean they would be leaving in an hour.
I asked all those things. She said that the social worker had presented the case that I was an unfit mom because we had the flu. I could not defend myself, call witnesses, have the doctor or nurses to talk to the judge, nothing.
Time Stood Still
I was hysterical when I got off the phone. Immediately I called my husband and he flew home. We did as we were told and got their stuff together because NOW they had stuff that we had gotten for them.
The 3 kids were in my room watching a movie when this bitch of a social worker walks up with her smug ass smile. My kids were clawing up my back to get away from her. I told her to just give them a minute. They were confused.
She did not do that.
She RIPPED them out of my arms with them screaming MOMMY MOMMY! It is a phrase that I can still hear in my head 15 years later. There was no explanation, no reason that she went before the judge without telling us, no calling our R & C worker, nothing.
I escaped to the bathroom because I was close to vomiting and I could not continue to listen to them scream for me and watch her drive off. Honestly, I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. It was horrible.
In my fashion, I told my husband I was going to bed. When I woke up, I wanted all trace of the children gone…like they never existed. Yes, that is how I deal with things. No, it is not appropriate or healthy.
I tried to reach out to the social worker to see if I could find out what happened or if I could see the children. She said that she wanted the kids closer to her so she lied about me and my husband. Who the f*ck does that?
One Year Later
We had accepted another placement in March (our kids G and D) and we were trudging through their trauma and my PTSD about doing this again. You know, sickness, doctors, visits, etc. Luckily, their social worker was AMAZING and we became great friends. I understood the role of a social worker from a seasoned one who had not interest in adopting children. We still had our regular R & C worker, so that was consistent and good.
Granted, these kids came with some issues that I will address in another post. Not details about their personal history but about the lies we were told by someone OTHER THAN their social worker or our R & C worker.
Their is a foster care family christmas party. We went for our kids with no intentions of seeing our children that were taken from us. Sadly, we got there and they were the first people we saw. The kids were in another “race acceptable” foster home.
Bart asked me if I wanted to see them. My mama heart said yes but my logical brain said no. My heart won out. I had 2 things I was terrified of. 1. Them remembering me and wondering where I had been. 2. They wouldn’t remember me at all. Logically, I knew they wouldn’t remember me. Yet, I tried.
I walked to the table they were at and I squatted down. Then, I said “babies.” This is what I always called them. They turned around and they RAN to me and leapt in my arms. Oh..my heart, my babies. They were safe, well dressed, loved and they remembered me.
Bitch of Christmas Returns
As we are in the moment of hugging our children, I heard a familiar voice talk to the foster parent. Then, the bitch of a social worker came around and literally ripped them out of my arms again. Again, the children were screaming for me and again, she had no regards for their hearts or mine. I could not understand why she did that again. We were not harm to them, we were not going to get them back, we were not talking to the foster parent, though they knew who we were… we were no threat.
She whisked them out of the room with no explanation. I talked to the R & C worker and our current social worker. They sympathized with us but could offer no explanation. I left the room and did not return.
The Next Year
I refused to go. My husband took the children and saw my babies. He took pictures. They did not recognize him. The social worker no longer worked there. I’m assuming she got her unethic ass fired for doing this to other foster parents.
I’m so glad she was found out. I’m so glad she was fired. I have not forgiven her. I miss my babies everyday. I do not talk about them for a reason because it is hard for people to understand. Listen, I have mad respect for those in the field of social work. There are some amazingly dedicated workers that are overworked and underpaid. It is a painful job seeing and hearing some of the worst stories ever. They work tirelessly.
She was not one of those good people. She was evil and she deserved to be fired. I’m thankful she is no where near those kids. I do know they were adopted by an older couple who had the means to care for them financially and I’m hoping love them the way they need to be loved.
I miss my kids. Everyday. The would be 15 and 17 today. I still have pictures that I have kept up in my home. I have jewelry with their names on it. People ask questions and I dance around them.
This is the year I stop dancing. Shay and Tay will forever be a part of our family. They will forever be our children. Forever loved and prayed over by us. I hope that I will be able to forgive her someday. She probably doesn’t even remember us. Forgiveness is about my healing it does not give her permission to abuse her job and resources for her own gain.
Side note: She didn’t get to adopt the kids. So, she got fired and lost the children…moved away in fact. Brings a bit of joy to my life. Again, I will forgive her someday but today is not that day.
Here is another note to another person in And Then There Was You. I have one more post, that I will start writing and post tomorrow. Then, maybe then, I doubt it, will I be done. When I say I have had enough, I mean I have had enough.
Letter to You
Dear Judgemental Person,
First and foremost, hello because I know you read my blog as well. I hope this finds you well and that you are working hard on your mental illness in a positive way and not in an addictive way. God is bigger than the demons you have living in your mind. I am proof of that. He is bigger and there is a better way than addiction to help you.
Find a counselor, a good doctor, get on meds, talk to your husband or counselor, go for a walk, read Scripture, listen to praise and worship music… so many options. It is not shameful to struggle with your mind. It is what it is and God is bigger.
Now, that I’ve said that, I want you to know that I think your husband is an amazing human. Your children (the 2 I know better than the other 2) are fine young men with bright futures. I know the things that they fight and they will overcome.
God love you. You are so eager to find your place, to be important, to have standing in the community and church, to appear to have it all together. You don’t. Honestly, you have none of that. There are so many people that you have hurt for no reason. You do not have the ability to just communicate because you don’t know how too.
You have an inability to communicate. You assume, judge, lie, condemn, and have no grace for others. That hurts people. It hurts people who have known you for years, like me and it hurts people who have known you for a minute.
You are the girl that was the snobby one in high school. Her crap did not stink, so she portrayed. The head cheerleader who is dating the quarter back and you are both perfect. How exhausting must that be for you. To keep up the pretenses for appearances sake and how sad you must have been to try and be consistent in that life.
The loss that you experienced is horrible. I want you to know that it is okay to name that loss, to verbally talk about that loss, to celebrate that life, and know that it is okay to love and have memories of that loss. That changed you.
You always want to be bigger, louder, better than others. I also know that you do that because you don’t truly know who you are or what you experience in your home. The jealousy that consumes you is something I pray that I never experience. I am exhausted even thinking about it.
I was fully prepared to just lay it all out there for the world to see but what I want to say is not coming out of my fingertips. That really ticks me off because I see where God is working things out in my spirit. He is healing me and my thoughts towards you.
Honestly, I could give 2 shits about social media. Who is friends with whom, how many friends are on my “list”, constant (I mean moment by moment) posting. Girl, get your phone out of your face. Raise your kids instead. Look at the world around you instead of in a screen. Those little squares of life you compare yourself too is not real.
You have a husband that works his butt off for you. He loves you and he comes from a family that loves well because they know the Lord. Make it a point to become obssessed with him instead of your phone. You have these children and grandchildren that I know adore you but they don’t want to compete with another sibling (aka your phone).
It’s okay that you are a little different. As Christ followers, we are called to be different. What is not okay is lying to people’s faces, being someone you are not, acting holier than thou, judging others, demeaning others, assuming things about people. For the love…just freaking ask. If you think there is an issue that is God related in another person’s life, do these things. First, pray. Ask the Holy Spirit to speak to you in regards to the situation or if you should even be in the situation.
Spoiler alert: You do not have to have details in order to pray.
Eliminates gossip which you love.
If God WANTS you to do, then pray for Him to allow a way for you to communicate HIS Words in HIS timing. He will provide an opening and an urge to talk to the person. Then pray for the Lord to be your words and to prepare the heart of whomever you are going to talk to.
That, if you remember, is how I came to you. I was hurt and expressed my hurt. You were receptive and honestly took 100% of the blame because you assumed things about me that were not true. Sort of like what you are doing now. You use social media “friend-ing or unfriend-ing” as a carrot in front of an animal.
I don’t want your friendship. There is not one thing I need to apologize for with you but I am always willing to listen. We have known each other for a long time. I was about to say “friends” but we were never friends. We were church acquaintances that have a long history together.
I really want to be angry with you. Honestly, I really do. I want to say such scathing harmful truths that I have personally seen … yet … I am not going to do that. I am certain Jesus is restraining my fingers because my mind is still going 90 to nothing.
Pity. That is what I feel for you. You can heal. You know Jesus. Do the right thing. Stop looking at the speck in others eyes. Exam the plank in yours. Purge, reflect, heal, forgive, ask forgiveness, let things go, stop being petty, grow up…you are closing in on your late 40s.
Life doesn’t have to be this hard and you can be a powerful source for the Kingdom if you would just get out of your own way.
Dang it, I want to be mad.
I am choosing to forgive you. Your “friendship” does not define my life. I will never let you back in but I can pray for your healing. Praying for so many things for you and your family. You are not perfect but with Jesus, you can overcome and let that shit go. Be who you pretend to be or take a step on the wild side and just be you. Quirky, flawed, and all.
You can change the lives of many when your masks start flying off. Let your vanity take a backseat, go grey with grace…leave your phone on silent, delete social media apps, set timers, invest in your children.
I will endearingly refer to you as “Wolves in Sheeps Clothing” because if the shoe fits…. What you meant for evil, the Lord meant for good. By evil, I mean coveting my family dynamics, lying, using your position to invade my family, and preying on the mental illnesses of others. As we say in the south “bless your hearts.” I mean God love you, you tried. You didn’t just try once, but you tried twice. Then, you abused your position by trying a third time.
Guys, you are winners, now aren’t you? I know you are a family of avid sports and it must suck to lose so badly to a “non-sporty” person like me. Dang it for you…just dang it. It must be a sad day for you because you just couldn’t take our son from us. Oh, you tried…with all your shiny things and the money you threw at him. For a brief moment, he was a kid who liked the shiny things. Then, he began seeing things that you both didn’t want him to see. The Lord shines Light on ALL darkness. What darkness you live in.
I can honestly say, he is pretty awesome but he is mine. I mean, from before the Lord created the Earth, He knew each and every one of my children. If you knew Him like I know Him, you would get that but you clearly don’t. Maybe one day you will.
Instead of trying to hurt us, you could’ve practiced what God talks about in His Word. If you need some help in that area, I am happy to send you a Bible with highlighted verses. Pretty much all of it will be highlighted because the Word is His love story to His children. I, and my family, are His children. Are you?
The Lord knew what He was doing when he placed your 2 perfect children in your home through birth. He knew what He was doing when he placed 3 imperfect children in my home through birth and 4 imperfect children through the beauty of adoption. The only Perfect Person to ever grace this Earth was Jesus Himself. You and your husband are not Jesus. You have tried to be, but again, you were foiled.
I am truly sorry that your token child (aka my child) is no longer allowed to associate with you because of your epically poor decisions, lies, deceit, and lack of belief in who God is. You are completely missing out on the beauty of who this child is and what he stands for.
It must be hard raising kids who do no wrong but I can see now that the apples do not fall far from the perfect tree they were created in. Ya know, I always wondered what it was like to be God, Himself, I should have asked you before I booted you out of our lives. Geez, I could have found all the answers.
I am so glad that you are using your “name” to further the Kingdom by truly and completely living the lives of wolves in sheeps clothing. As talked about in Matthew 7:15-23.
Beware of false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. So then, by their fruit you will recognize them. Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name drive out demons and perform many miracles? Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you workers of lawlessness!’
Aw, you play the part. Your family’s family has all established a church and you are solid, to the naked undiscerning eye. Isn’t your church the one that experienced a fracture? Were you a part of that? Wouldn’t surprise me. Maybe I could do some asking around. Yet, you are one of those people who are sitting in the pew believing you are saved, but never had a salvation experience.
I hope that you become aware of that and that you can know the true love of a Savior. That salvation does not come from works but from grace. I saw you way back when you eyeballed my son when he was 6 and I ignored it. Stupid me. He isn’t a prize to be won. He is MY son and MY son alone. I simply allowed him to grace your presence because I want everyone to know how amazing he is. Sad you won’t ever see that now.
I know you read my blog, see us at games, shake your troubled head at his “misfortune” of parents but that is as close as you will ever get to him. He is wise beyond his years and he sees so much more than you ever gave him credit for.
You have truly allowed Scripture to JUMP off the pages in Matthew 7:1-6.
“Do not judge, or you will be judged. For with the same judgment you pronounce, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but fail to notice the beam in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while there is still a beam in your own eye? You hypocrite! First take the beam out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. Do not give dogs what is holy; do not throw your pearls before swine. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.”
I do not believe I have never EVER had your feet under my table. As much as I like to have people over, who are honest and good, I guess my spirit knew that you and your spouse were neither of those things. It was my folly that I even allowed you to be a small part of my precious son’s life. I’m thankful the Lord has erased his memory of you and what little may be left, you have taught him (and me) some valuable lessons.
You have taught me about judging others without knowing the FULL context of their lives. You, wolves, will also be judged. Good luck with that. This time has taught us to be mindful of the plank in our eyes and to adjust, pray, ask forgiveness, forgive, and show mercy without judging the speck in your and your husband’s eye.
The Lord protected us from your invasion and harm. He shielded us with a hedge of protection from the angels above. Honestly, I did want to seek revenge and I plotted that revenge out, in detail, in my head. Today, I stand on Truth. Exodus 14:14 “The Lord will fight my battles. I simply have to be still.”
Girl (and husband), you better watch it cause He is on our side, I am heeding His voice of being still, and He will judge your actions. There is nothing I can do that will hold a candle to His judgement. I’m so glad for that.
I wanted you both to suffer the pain and loss that I suffered. You will never know that but again, what little you know does not compare to the JOY He has brought after the darkness. He has brought peace, understanding, knowledge, wisdom, and a stronger family unit than ever before. It is sad you may never experience that.
I don’t think Blogmas Begins is a thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure it isn’t. Edited to say it IS A THING! I know vlogmas is a thing for people who do YouTube. YouTube is not my thing but writing is my thing. I’ve not written much lately. It has been super busy around here, so let’s add to the busyness.
What I Will Do
Honestly, not sure. I may post some of my favorite Christmas recipes. There will also be some “healing” posts that I am going to write. I am hoping to have some guest bloggers. There will probably be no reviews or giveaways this month. We shall see.
I am just introducing the “series” and eating some parmesan crisps my husband made. Honestly, I am not hungry at all but the urge to munch on something always happens late at night. Maybe that is where my fluffyness comes from.
I have some goals that I have set for myself. There is a tendency to get reflective at the end of the year. Decisions have been made, all shits have been given, passiveness is a thing of the past, and living my best life the last 1/2 of my life. I hope to share most of that with you.
For now, I shall munch, watch an aimless stupid movie, and finish writing my first “cleansing post” that may not make sense to my readers but will certainly make sense to the person that has affected for me for way too long. It’s good I know who reads and does not read my stuff.
Good grief, Batman. A) My brain is on overload 99% of the time B) I can go from relaxed to on it in 0.09 seconds C) I conjur up the worst case scenarios given any opportunity. Here are the Saturday Happenings in a Nutshell.
Saturdays are the days I can sleep in. Bart does not do it. If he is up, he is up. I take advantage of that since I struggle with sleep. This was not one of those days. Bart had to work. He left at 8 am to go make sure the people who have made bad decisions are doing what they are supposed too and leaving kids alone on this Halloween weekend.
Changes to my schedule are never met with acceptance. I trudge through them. Routine is welcome and wrenches in my plan or routine is not what I enjoy. I mean, in the history of ever, change always sucks.
My Boy Child
Noah had called and had had an accident. My brain went to OH CRAP, I HAVE TO GET TO HIM NOW. He reassured me that he was okay, it was his fault, the other person was okay, and I could wait to see him tomorrow.
My next thought was “wait, what?” What do you mean tomorrow? He reminded me that it was date day and we had planned this several weeks ago.
Forgetting a date with my boy child.
Damage Control 101
I had to think to myself. So, I said “self, how are we going to be in 100 places at one time?” Then, of course, I answered myself. I played through the scene in my head.
Get D to work by 1030
Text Martha to come to my house at 2
Call Alyssa to see if she can watch H while N and I go to lunch
Get J to HS by 11
Get to Murray
Prepare myself for the crumpled car
Have a mental breakdown
Hug N for 2 hours
Take H to A
Take N to lunch
Pick H up from A
Snuggle with N for 1 hr and 45 minutes
Braid each others hair
Paint his toenails
Cry when I get home
Go to bed.
That’s Not How it Happened
I mean, I was mentally preparing myself for all the things. Yet, that is totally not what happened. This is how it panned out.
Put makeup on and actually got dressed (yes *bowing* I did that)
Loaded up boys
Got D to work by 1030
Got J to school by 11
Got to N by 1145
SOS to mom to meet me at my house at 2 to look at the decor
Called A to see if she could watch H
Noticed his car was more “bumped” than crushed
He came out presenting his perfectly fine self.
We hugged until he forced me to stop
I called a friend and then her husband who agreed to stop by and take a look at it.
Dropped H off at A’s house
Got to lunch
J called and said can I take him from the HS to the middle school. I am an hour away
Called my mama, she wiped off her paint and did my running
J called and said that that was the wrong thing to do and he needed to go back to the HS. I told him to call Jojo where he reminded me that he was grounded from his phone until Sunday.
N called jojo because I didn’t want to bother her again
Had EXCELLENT and open convo with N
Arranged for E to meet us at N’s apartment to examine the damage
Got N home
Went to pick up H
Visited my girl child
Got message about Heartland Baptist having a fall festival and special needs could come an hour before it opened to the public.
Got home at 330
Walked into 4 piles of diarrhea everywhere.
Could not figure out if I wanted to call mama to come and clean it up (this is not in my job requirement). Then realized this is not my mom’s area of expertise either. She would do it but dry heave/puke while she was doing. I am a sympathy puker so I would go behind her puking as well.
Decided to be an adult and have my 7 yr old hold the garbage bag while I cleaned and dry heaved.
Took him to what I thought was just bouncy houses and food trucks. More on that in a minute.
Came home to brother on my deck revamping his creation
Went. To. Bed.
I do not like crowds. It was not in the cards for me to go earlier because of the damage control that I had to attend to an hour away from where I live. I am SO thankful Noah is okay. Cars are temporary, his life is so much more important. As is the life of the other person who was so gracious and understanding.
E was able to fix N’s car with no issues which gives us breathing room as to if we need to do anything more to his car. All doors open, it is structurally safe and N is thrilled, as am I. We are blessed to have people in our lives with many talents and Jesus firmly in their hearts.
Great visit with A and A. Got to take “baby” some fried apples and mac and cheese. Apparently, my forming grandchild needed it, therefore Lolli makes it happen! My girls have married some good boys.
Brother and bestie have worked hard on my deck, gates, and fences. They can envision things that are beyond my scope. Things are safe, water issues are solved, deck is sound. This time has allowed me to see my brother on a different playing field. It has also allowed him to see me on a different playing field.
We are 10 years apart and never been anywhere near to close. Love is always there, as is, protection of each other. Kindness…not always. Friendliness…not always. We are just too far apart and too different.
This deck thing has allowed both of us to start building a bridge. We each know the status of our salvation. I have asked forgiveness for things he does not even know about. He chose to extend grace. Maybe he is seeing me as a 50 year old (next year) woman and not a 10 year old child. Maybe I am seeing him through the eyes of grace, mercy, and forgiveness.
Either way, God is good.
Wow. Again, I thought he could dress up, bounce around, eat and then we leave. I didn’t realize there were going to be around 3000 people there (literally). #PanicCentral. We pulled up and I realized that it was a fall festival AND a trunk or treat.
I was not prepared.
Clearly, I still had the waft of diarrhea mounds in my nose.
Hunter did not have a bag. The one time, in the history of ever, Bart cleaned out my car. There were no bags anywhere. So, what does a mom of a 7 yr old who NEVER does things for people his age do?
Well, I will tell you what she did.
She popped the cute little insert out of her leather, mustard yellow $400 Frye bag and that is what he used.
Was my little red ninja thrilled?
Heck yes he was.
Did he strap that purse on like a beast and wear it with pride?
Heck yes he did.
Was I behind him shaking my head at the sight before me?
Heck yes I was.
Did the sweet lady at the entrance see a 7 yr old ninja boy with a leather handbag offer to help and give him a regular bag?
Why yes she did.
What did my ninja do?
He put that plastic bag IN the leather purse and carried it anyway.
This is My Life
We did all the things. He had one moment of disobedience. That was quickly corrected. He had one moment of fear with the bouncy houses. This is normal for a kid who tremors and struggles with stability. He was scared.
I told him that it was okay to be scared and I would be right there. I explained I would stand there and cheer or I would crawl in and get him. We talked about how fear should never stop us from trying anything.
He went in, like a champ, had the MOST fun…I stood out there, watched and cried at seeing my medically fragile kid just being a kid. It was overwhelming.
Bart brought Jude to come help with clean-up. When I saw him, I tapped out. Left them there for another hour and came home. My mama called and said I never called her to tell her we got home. I ran through the saga of my day.
At the end of the conversation where I stated that I had adulted all day long.
She said she was proud of me.
Who doesn’t want their parents to outwardly state they are proud of you?
I know I do.
Tonight (Halloween), we will conquer another feat. We will take H trick or treating.
Day date part 2. If you missed my first Texas Roadhouse experience, you can click HERE and read about it.
Once that issue was all done and we were done with lunch, there really wasn’t much time to do anything else. However, I told Bart that I wanted to run into TJ Maxx. I had never been there and my new bestie Merina from Fearfully Created said she got good deals there for decor.
Uhm, just a side note, Merina does not know I exist. I just feel like with her life and family and my life and family that we could be best friends forever. She is SO Adhd and her family is SO loud, and she loves Jesus SO much. She is addictive.
Back to Case in Hand
In my earnest effort to look normal, have a normal home, and decorate…we went in. I could feel the panic come over my body. So many people in that store. It was like the Shop-O-Rama in my local town.
There was jewelry, perfume, clothes, purses, Christmas EVERYWHERE, decor, toys, food…my thoughts were if I stumble on a frozen food section, I am out of there. It was overwhelming for me. I shop online all the time. This in person crap is for the birds.
I beelined to the pillows. They seemed safe and according to my sister, I needed one stripe or floral, one solid, and one textured to bring a “room together.” I’m agreeing with her like I know what she is saying.
Yet, this is why she is my person.
After her words were used, she looked up the exact piece and said, “order this and this and this is what it should look like when you are done.”
Aw, she knows I’m visual and not an auditory learning. Love her. I ordered all that she said and am anxiously awaiting the arrival.
There is a vision in my head of what I want for my living space. I love clean, simple, clutter free spaces. I enjoy open, airy, lots of light as well. My colors for the first living area is grey, black, white, and red. I love that combo with my furniture. In the first half of my living room, I have 2 couches, 2 recliners, and a bookcase. That’s it. There is zero room for any end tables or a coffee table.
I dug around and found two nice, fluffy blankets to add some personality to the space. In 2 separate grey/white twill baskets, I added blankets in one and hid it behind a reclinder. In the other, it has my granddaugher’s stuff.
Onto My Walls
I have a black and white print a friend drew for me. Love it. Then, I have 3 16×20 canvases (is it a double consonant “s” in that word? Canvasses? I’ll have to look that up), and underneath it, I want a simple sign with a white background and black lettering. I’m leaning on the quote “I’m Gonna Wait on You.”
Canvases and Canvasses can both be used. I feel better.
Sort of Shelf
My one piece of furniture is sort of a bookshelf with a cabinet underneath. Right now, I have a red basket under there where I may put more of Charleigh’s toys or her books that she can easily and safely get too. Since I have no storage in this house, we may use it for games that the kids enjoy playing. Right now, they are in a tote in the garage.
The top 3 shelves has my collection of Bible’s hello, my name is Brandi and I’m addicted to Bibles. Daddy said if I can’t learn what the Lord wants me to learn in one Bible, I certainly won’t learn with 30 Bibles.
On the bottom shelf
I have a black and white 8×10 canvas of Charleigh and shoes that are for my newest grandbaby coming next year. On the other side of that, I want a black lantern with fairy lights cause it makes me happy.
It is ordered and not a lantern but something similar. I like it and it will help with the lighting situation in this part of the house. I do not like the lighting we have. During the day, I have my shades open. In the evening, we need something. There is no room for lamps.
What I Need
I need a long sign under my canvases (there I go again). Also, I needed one more black framed something to go on the other side of the window. The whole point of this trip to TJ Maxx is because I wanted throw pillows. Honestly, I feel like people who are almost 50 have throw pillows. I thought I could incorporate the red that way, which I did and love!
Then there was the whole conundrum of “do people who are closing in on 50 have curtains?” Is it a requirement? I just don’t know. Yes, I took a poll and the poll was split down the middle. I opted on no, but could change my mind in order to look my age LOL.
Back to the Pillows
I felt safe back there in the pillow spot of TJ Maxx. There were not a lot of people and the different textures of the pillows brought me joy. Another couple of things that brought me joy were the fact that Bart still doesn’t have his smell back from having Co-vid so long ago. Couple that in with a texture appealing pillow section and no one around me. I could be the weirdo who likes to touch things and feel the textures. It is quite relaxing.
Sadly, I revert back to my younger years and I crop dust the pillow aisle. That was until my husband surprised me and walked behind me. He said “My smell is still gone but somehow, someway your putrid farts permeate my nostrils. What is wrong with you?” I giggled like a schoolgirl and kept walking.
Good news was that I found RED pillows (solid), textured pillows (striped), and a stand out pillow. As an adult, I did all the requirements per my sister. Yes, yes I did send her pictures. She was pleased and gave me two thumbs up!
At One Point
I was standing in front of the greenery and I wondered outloud are these the types of green things that 50 year old people have in their house? Do you dust them? Should they be real? How does this work. The space over my bookcase is substantial, so how will they see these tiny little pots with these fake flowers in it.
One lady said I sounded like her and her sister. She was super traditional and her sister was the tye-dyed type. Since I was literally wearing the tye die shirt, she figured out which one I was and which my sister was. I am, quite literally, trying to muster up that traditional, age appropriate person and it was evading me. I am not a person who can decorate.
I walked away with no greenery.
We Stumbled onto the Clearance Aisle
I would touch something and present it and ask to my husband “Will this make me look normal?” He stated not unless I had planned on impaling people. This piece looked like a bunch of tiny swords ready to stab anyone who walks by.
Then he found a 3 piece set of a calender, a daily menu piece and the perfect match to go onto my living room wall. I was stoked. I accidentally got my kitchen decorated and didn’t even realize it. Happy Day to me!
One woman, as I was muttering to myself about decorations said “ma’am, you just be you and who cares what anyone would buy or how their stuff is decorated. You just be you.” That actually helped.
It Helped Me Walk Out of the Store
I left him to check out, get all these pillows to the car, in the rain and we went home. I needed a pill and some relaxation time. Everything was done for Part 1 of my living room. I have some pics to print and put in that one frame. I also have another canvas to print. Then, I have to have my mom make that sign and then it is done.
With what I had laying around my house, I found a red basket and a plant that I hadn’t killed yet. I ordered a black pot to put Edna in for on top of my bookshelf. Looks pretty good except for her burnt leaves.
She isn’t all alive but she isn’t all dead either. Win win.
I cleaned out the bill holder and will move some stuff around in the coat closet. It needs to be used for coats. I may also put a piece in there that is a hidden shoe holder. Then, Bart hung a massive piece on top of some furniture my mom made. Bart hung another one of my favorite signs up. I ordered a runner (mostly for safety reasons) and a Eucalyptus wreath.
Bart will be adding shelves and stuff in the cats litter box room. Yes, Karen has a whole room with a drain in it and all the things. She needs it. Anyway, once I get that, that little spot will be done. I may order a Snake plant (no clue, but sister told me I couldn’t kill it because hers is still alive). It will need a little table to sit on.
THEN it will be done. Completion makes me happy and feel more at peace. It is starting to feel like my home and not an Air BnB.
Room by Room
We are slowing putting it all together. Kitchen is done except painting the ceiling, changing the lights, and fixing the ice maker. “Extra” living room (currently our dining room) needs a lot of attention. Living Room #1 is done and so is foyer.
TJ Maxx came through in a clutch but I gotta figure out the down times to go in there because dang, there were a lot of people. So. Many. People.
It is Friday. All day long. I woke up to my husband handing me a cinnamon roll and a giant cup of coke.
Then the words “D missed the bus. J got him up. He chose to go back to sleep. Oh. He was downstairs for a least an hour on the same chromebook that wasn’t supposed to leave the school.”
Well, good morning to you too.
I quite literally pulled the covers up over my head. It’s Friday and Bart is home. Again, not home to work but home home. Home to just stare at me at uncomfortable rates. He is home.
My brother and his bestie showed up to work on my deck, outside. It is almost finished. We chatted about all the things that we needed to chat about. Bart and I were going to go on a “day date.” I was ready and he was skimming the water off of the pool cover. I told Bart that I was walking out the door. If he wanted to attend lunch with me, he’d better get moving because I was not going to wait.
Yep, you guessed it.
Because I didn’t want to drive. Yes, I’m that pathetic.
We get to the restaurant of choice and get seated immediately with our hot rolls and no drinks. We watched waitress #1 seat and get the drink orders behind us. We watched waitress #2 talk to a table for a good 5-8 minutes. Waitress #1 came back to the table behind us with their food. Waitress #3 came to the table next to us, brought them more food and drink. Then waitress #4 started chatting with waitress #2 and her customers. Waitress #5 came back with the tickets of the table beside us. Then a bus boy came and busted the table next to us.
Bart had had enough. We had never been to this restaurant and likely he would not ever take me back. He went and got a manager. What a beautiful young lady and as she was PROFUSELY apologizing, all I could do was stare at her upper lip.
I am no stranger to a stray hair popping out of my upper lip, or my mole, or one particularly peculiar place of right under my eye. This, however, took the cake. She had a moustache much like Mario.
She was so upset and I was on the verge of losing all my composure. Bart was very serious and explaining his disdain. Then, a young lady, swooping up behind her came and stood. She was very embarrassed. I wanted to comfort her but she looked like the guy off of The Mask of Zorro.
I kid you not.
Once the manager saw that I was fixing to lose all my composure, she kindly stated that it was “Moustache Day” at the Texas Roadhouse.
Once they both left, the manager MORE than making it right for us. An older lady came up to our table. She said “well, if no one else is going to wait on you, I will.” We ordered our food and she walked off. Yet, catching her was the Mask of Zorro girl who was about to throw down because older, un-moustached, lady took her table.
I can’t even.
I think we waited an hour and a half. My steak was not done enough, so they took it back (I hate doing that because I don’t want them to spit in my food LOL) but left me the cheese fries to munch on. Mario brings it back, with MORE steak fries and older lady said “you forgot her bacon bits.”
I was like, “Dude, don’t even worry. I’m good.” Manager was so upset she made it even MORE right with us. God love her. Mask of Zorro came back around and apologized. She was new, didn’t know her tables and then went on to explain she has a severe, on life support, child in Kindergarten.
I guess we will go back one more time because Mario gave us a gift certificate. Food was good. Service was good, once we got it. All in all, it was a decent experience. Maybe next time, I can eat my food hot and not out of a leftovers box because we were there forever and five days.
Here is a day in my life. Now, I am slightly medicated, right now, but I felt it necessary to write this at 10:57 pm. Here are my main points of topics to be somewhat addressed.
Tomorrow is Friday.
Just discovered my husband will be home. Not “working from home” but home home. I don’t know how I feel about that.
Decorating is not as easy as my mom and sisters make it. I have been doing the “Mama Ne’ Ne’ all day and now my neck hurts.
I realized that I need to order a piece to match my other 2 canvases on the wall but it still won’t look right. Now, I need immediate intervention. If my mother can’t come, my sister will. If my sister can’t come, I can video call my other sister. I can go get my other mother and have her look as perplexed as I do, I could cry. If all else fails I will bring in the big gun…my daddy. He is no help either.
I now realize that I have to go out into public tomorrow. More specifically in public with my husband who took the day off. Reference back to #2.
I hung pictures in my living room today. I am taking Flylady by the wings and I am firmly in Zone 5 of the living room. Yet, my living room is sparse (due to the move). I did as she instructed but I rebelled a bit because I was sans shoes. I mean what is she going to do? Fine me?
I decided my front living room would be grays/blacks/antique whites. I wanted to honor that by hanging up my black/white pieces. Success except for the brown piece that I had above my furniture. It bothered me so bad, that I removed it.
I did that.
But then the coffufle happens. This has to be addressed by going out in public and finding something that will fit that certain situation.
Went to grab a picture, knowing exactly where it was, brought it to the kitchen to get the hardware going and found a dying stinkbug. Excellent.
Went back to get the smaller picture. That’s when I saw it. A sight I had never seen before in my life and, quite frankly, I hope to never to see again. On said picture that I needed to hang up, there were 2 stink bugs getting down to business. There was a quick quandry in my mind.
I could watch them, awkwardly, have sex.
I could pick them up and release them into the wild.
I could shush them off of my picture and tell them to use protection.
Or, I could squish them in a compromising position.
I shall let you guess on that one.
It was a little much on a Thursday afternoon to deal with such decisions.
I presented to sister #1 a question that was weighing on me. “Is it necessary to have curtains, for social acception by others, by the age of 49. I’m digging the light coming through my window. Yet, if I have to, I will.
Mental note: check to see if we have an HOA and then apologize profusely for refusing to abide by man made rules.
What does that say about me?
Daddy gave me an aloe plant. I will kill it, so I took it anyway as a sign of him accepting me and loving me. Now, I have to keep it alive. The struggle is real.
**Pray it lives.** Maybe I should get it out of the styrofoam cup it was given to me in.
Went to make soup out of my crockpot. Guess boys forgot to wash it and it had been outside due to lack of storage room (aka none). They didn’t. There really wasn’t much of a smell. It was more of the fact that the bits of “rice” were sprouting legs and moving fast.
I won’t even go into the upstairs flood that compromised our downstairs ceiling.
Oh, wait, the flood from my downstairs, that had nothing to do with the flood from upstairs.
Then there is Co-vid.
Oh, lest we forget my brother walking on my deck and then finding himself under from the rotten wood.
Hunter wanting to take his testicles to show and tell. I tried to explain why that was not a good decision. He disagreed and said they were awesome. We compromised on his beads of courage. I know…I won that…for now.
Oh and for those that are vested in the mystery slice of pizza in my van….the culprit came forth and explained what happened. What I thought was a human’s pee or a stray animal or a criminal who stopped to pee inside my van.
Oh, and thank you for listening (reading this far)…..I am past go!