Searching for Answers is not the Answer

If you spend your life being raised in an abusive family that becomes your 'Normal' so to speak. You are accustomed to the yelling, breaking of furniture and dishes, cussing, the beatings, one submissive parent one domineering, and that underlying feeling of something isn't quite right, add a divorce and you almost have the all American family. If you marry at a young age and  don't get the correct counseling beforehand you will walk blindly into another abusive relationship. Possibly you will have children thinking you are doing something wrong and you need to please your husband, just as one of your parents was the peacekeeper. 10 years of your life, loss of all friends, isolation except for 'if' you have a job and if you have a job you are supporting the dictator. Your children are witnesses to violent and inexcusable actions and will never forget what they have seen, again passing on the circle of abuse. If you get the courage to do something about the mistreatment, hopefully the other party's family isn't in the same state. Hopefully they wont aid in the wrongdoings of their child, they will suck up to the fact that their child saw abusive growing up and asked for help in ways that ways other deemed 'a problem child' or 'a bully'. You fail miserably at a marriage, you tear apart all your childhood dreams of prince charming coming to rescue, you destroy the self esteem of your children and yourself. If you do as you should counseling should follow, to make you realize you didn't do anything wrong. An abuser makes you think it is 'all your fault', they are so good at being charismatic and the talk of the town, they turn people against you that wont even give you the chance to explain yourself. Assumptions are made and if you are not careful this will make you a bitter person and you will have no problem closing off all types of human contact. You may get a job bar tending to watch the same drunks come in night after night pouring their horribly mistreated life stories from the world. Leaving behind on the bar the one thing you care about ...money. It pays the rent you are behind on, puts food on the table that you will not eat because you think you are fat... when in all reality ribs and hip bones showing is not fat that is hospital material. If you swear off all relationships one will follow that will be worse than the first, because you didn't go get counseling. You started to but decided you are stronger than all the other people in the room and you don't need help. If you get another job, it may be a job that is in law enforcement so you can help others in your situation. You may try to help others and give great advice that you too need to follow. You may even be struggling with a divorce still taking place, working full time, going to college at night, taking care of your children AND paying child support for them all at the same time. Sometimes the system that is supposed to work is beyond a joke, it reminds you that your nothing more than a social security number. Possibly you may actually live a year on 540 a month with three kids and the only thing that kept you alive was that unexpected person you let into your heart. If you still haven't gotten counseling for being in an abusive relationship your sense of normal is still no where near normal at all. With the same mentality you have had since you can remember all you know to do is please your partner, you miss the signs all of them. Loosing friends again, self esteem bottoming out, not even flinching at the yelling, plates fly by your head while your doing the dishes and you keep on washing. If you had children with this person, not only have you affected on generation but now two with the unhealthily circle of abuse. If you are lucky you will get out eventually, it may take police reports, questions from the one friend you have of 'how did you really get that scar?' and watching your children see you cry will break your heart. If you reach that realization point of, if I don't do something now someone will end up dead in less than 365 days... your heart will pound with fear. Fear of change and the unknown, what if you are making all this up and you are really crazy? What if this, what if that. If you change your mind and think that person will change if you loose weight, clean the house better, make dinner better you will be disappointed. You loose a child, they are unhappy and you can see it so you talk to the first offender and decide the better of two evils is for that child to be with them. Your heart breaks but you still don't get your stuff together. If you have special needs children that is another distraction to keep you going every single day, they keep you from dealing with your problems and focused on theirs. You see a brilliant mind, a wide eyed handsome child that has all the potential in the world called 'stupid', kicked under the dinner table and beat with the belt. They watch you cry at the dinner table, if your upset at yourself for crying and if you have an ounce of compassion in your heart you start to see something isn't right. One child was bullied out and now another, and then if you have a daughter she will be put down every single day just like you. Because she is your twin, she is stronger than she realizes but doesn't apply it, she is scared. She has grown up too fast and seen to much, she wants to protect all her brothers but she can't and she is torn. If you loose her too and she lives with her grandmother because she knows what goes on at the first perps  house and it isn't any better than your house she has made a step in the right direction. If you are isolated completely from everyone around you, know the control is complete. You will not care what you look like, you function on the auto button you focus once again on your children. You know your older children hate you, you cry yourself to sleep feeling the empty space that will never be replaced until they are back in your life again. You see the fear in your younger children's eyes when a booming voice comes home, and nothing you do is correct and the whole world is out to get them. If you hold your baby and rock them 'ssshhhhhh mommy loves you, everything is going to be ok', if your baby is asking you why? Searching for the answer isn't the answer, getting yourself out of that situation no matter how scared you are.... that is the SOLUTION. No looking back, no more what ifs, and going to counseling for victims of domestic violence will be the best thing you ever did for your children and yourself. If you ask for forgiveness and every single day wake up and tell yourself "I am a good person but I am not perfect but that is ok" life will seem so much better and easier. And 'if' you are me and this is my story, you will still fall just like I do but I get right back up and brush my ass off. I've been judged, criticized, analyzed, talked about, blamed, hated, and for a brief moment loved. I fell in love six times, the love of my life was laid on my chest and looked deep into my eyes with awe and wonder, curiosity and amazement. I will never forget each time my children were laid on me for the first time, and they are my solution I live everyday for them. I must show my children I am a strong woman that can overcome life's difficulties, keep my head above water and maybe someday  hold their children. Domestic violence is a vicious circle everyone should share their story so it isn't a secret anymore, how many more people must die because the closet is full of skeletons? Teach others that their is a normal that really is normal, not what is perceived by that person as normal but real life that involves friendships not isolation, compliments not insults, disagreements not fights, love and war but not punishment and always forgiveness. Stop turning your head and looking the other way, help someone or if it applies to whomevver is reading this.... help yourself.

Coffee break please

I have come to the realization that  my morning coffee is much more than a steaming hot cup of liquid. It is my comfort zone, my best friend, my soothing salvation in times of need, I am in love with my coffee. If I break this down simply; it is smooth and doesn’t talk back, it is hot yet doesn’t require sex when I am tired, it gives me energy without expecting me to do something and I can experiment with different flavors and don’t get accused of cheating. And also interestingly enough, coffee is good in hot or cold weather despite what non coffee drinkers may think. I never understood the look of pleasure my mom got on her face with those first few sips of fresh coffee in the morning, now I understand. When the kids are screaming at each other, when the laundry pile is telling me it will leave the house if I don’t fold it, when the dirty dishes are a new decor in the kitchen, I just slowly sip my coffee and in essence am turning into my mother. It has taken 36 years to grasp some of the odd things she did, and when I was little coffee was like Liver in my opinion. She would add her sugar and hazelnut creamer and stare out the window in her robe. In my small world I just had to color at that exact moment or the entire world was going to implode, jumping up and down seemed to make her snap out of her trance just long enough to say “go color IN the coloring book and not on the table”. This morning as I was oh so enjoying my salvation with white macadamia chocolate creamer, my son asked to color while he was spinning in circles and jumping saying “can I color” like that ice cream commercial. Thank goodness for my coffee break because the green marker all over the wall made me smile and enjoy this small moment of insanity. Now if we can survive Christmas all will be good.

The green marker bandit is stylishly wearing the silver and green bows and he has his arm around his partner in crime and best friend Andrew.

My Autistic Family

Life with Aspergers - One child's story

My studmuffin Maximus a White English Bulldog

As of today King 'Maximus' of ARK is one year six months and 21 days old, he is registered through the  White English Bulldog Preservation Society "A private group dedicated to the preservation of the Old White English and Brindle Bulldog. Where we don't sacrifice principles for profit" he is truly a blessing to me and my children in ways that even a blog can't explain. I can't believe at one time he weighed a mere 12lbs versus the now 100lbs!

I use Diamond dog food from Tractor Supply, it's Gluten, Soy and Whey free so no huge piles of poo to fall in, hence most is absorbed so a 50lb bag goes a month. I've tried many different types of dog food and trust me DO NOT think you are saving money with Ol' Roy, you have to take in account how fast that lovely food is going through their body. Another words how much is going to their muscles and fat stores and how much is just passing through waiting for you to step in it? Although Max looks menacing to those unknowing, he is really quite an aloof fella only out to take care of his family and livestock. Often uneducated people not knowing the difference between an American Bulldog, Pit Bulldog, Brindle Bulldog etc... are intimidated by Max little do they know what an intelligent gentle giant he really is. He (along with other White English Bulldogs) require little to no training at all, they are family orientated and are submissive yet protective. My favorite quality of the WEB is they are not those annoying barking type dogs. You know what I am talking about, your out taking a nice and peaceful walk next thing you know baby Kujo comes out of nowhere and instantly ruins your silent oasis with a high pitched attempt at a ferocious yip. Better yet the 'wait until everyone is asleep' barker, yes I think my neighbors dog knows when my head hits the pillow. Secretly I believe they have somehow gotten in this house and put sensors in my bedroom, I have tested this theory and it is still a work in progress. My dark side thinks it's time to get a BB gun, my angelic side thinks the owners should by shock collars and train their dogs. Thank goodness Max only barks if there is a reason, and none of those reason include terrifying an unsuspecting and quite innocent person or an extremely tired person or the mere fact their butt hair has tweaked to the left turning on the 'I am going to bark all night' button. Out of respect for Max I finally made the time to put his picture out on my logo:

He is my pride and joy, canine he may be but he is part of the family and I have gained new and life long friendships in the journey to preserve such a magnificent breed. Yes my skin crawls a bit when someone says "Wow he sure is a handsome American Bulldog" but I step back and realize five short years ago I myself didn't know the difference either. I see the glazing over of the eyes when I start talking to most but sometimes I see that spark of  interest from strangers too. When they want to understand just how historic this breed is, hope fills me and I look at my children hoping they can keep the legacy going. Max isn't a show dog,  he isn't judged for hang time or how pretty he stands and I am more important than any other judge in this world. I look for the simplest quality... loyalty. Max has been my therapist, my friend, my canine companion, my savior and most importantly my hero. He saved my boys life from being attacked by a Pit Bull that was later shot and killed by the local Sheriff's Department  and he has put himself between me and a domestically violent situation. That my fellow bloggers is quite a smart dog and I give him a score of 10 all across the board.

Thank you Ray and Heather for everything without you Loosahatchie Bulldog's wouldn't exist and quite possibly I wouldn't be alive.

We have chicks!

I am one of those people that talk to all their animals (and yes I do believe they understand us) and have become very fond of chickens in the last  year and a half. My chicken story started out rough and expensive especially if you include the E.R. bill, yes I almost decapitated myself when the 4x8 building being moved broke... and it broke on the left side of my face, neck, arms and chest. By God I had the most expensive chickens in at least a three state radius! Thankfully the scars have healed for the most part and even though I have moved since then my hobbies haven't changed. Last week I successfully hatched out eight Delawares out of twelve, and today a shipment of day old assorted brown egg layers came. I think the postman thought I needed to pop a pill when I squeeed in delight and clapped my hands excitedly when he handed me my chirping package. For a moment in time I felt like a five year old opening that present that Santa had assured me would be under the tree, ahh it was bliss opening up the box and seeing all of the chicks alive and so fluffy and just absolutely adorable. Integrating my week old Delawares with the day olds proved to be so interesting, almost good enough to YouTube. Athena my five week old kitten that thinks she is a chicken was on top of the kennel watching in awe as fifteen little poof balls made the eight occupants spread like wildfire. Of course it wasn't helping the situation any when my oh so intelligent three year old was instructing me how to 'gret the cheekeens mommy!' and even taking the time to point as he was dictating. As I realized what a huge mess I made, total chaos right before my eyes Athena decides to join the madhouse. Let me stress no chicks were harmed at all. When I say she thinks she is a chicken, I'm not joking, I'll be lucky if my kitten even attempts to attack a mouse. The entire purpose of getting her was because of our lovely rodent problem, I mean I can handle mice but NOT an I do mean NOT standing on my foot while I'm doing dishes at 9pm. If you are trying to picture a 36 year old woman in shorts and a t-shirt flailing her arms and screaming, your good so far but you would think the mouse was gone... I wasn't that lucky. My fiance is laughing hysterically and pointing at my foot that was still occupied by the mouse. Yes I woke up the boys during all of this and now if you say mouse they scream and it is all my fault, but that is where Athena falls into place. One problem, last week she discovered she can cuddle with the chicks and go to sleep so today was pure joy for her. Next problem the new poof balls didn't know that the giant was a friendly, so operation peck anything you can reach was initiated. Part of me wanted to cry but my three year old Caleb was still telling me how to help the 'cheekeens' not once blinking an ounce of concern to Athena, then the uncontrollable giggle erupted. Like the kind in high school where if you even snicker your teacher is sending you to the office but your best friend looks at you and some sort of silent joke sets you into a fit of laughter. Yes I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face, Caleb then tells me to turn my water off and then Athena jumps on me with a poof ball clinging to her tail for dear life. I half expected her to be trembling but mind you she was actually purring, she fits in quite well in this dysfunctional family. What should happen doesn't and what does shouldn't and the results are always out of the ordinary and definitely intriguing. So Athena was out, poof ball back in, all 23 chicks have assimilated and I have soupy chicken feed in the kennel to clean up yet. But we have chicks and I am so excited! It has started this comical already I can't wait to see how they are when the hen house is up.