death

i've been poisoned. I am convinced.
seems like stricnine, though i've never officially been poisoned by strychnine - and i am not correcting the spelling because i haven't the energy to look it up.

if i twittered, i'd let you know through that, but i do not, so i am here.

i'm praying for either immediate death or considering having someone saw (or chop, i care not which) my body off directly under my breasts, and then reattaching myself directly to the tops of my legs.
I may look a little wierd, but it would totally be worth it.

send someone immediately, won't you?

quiet

So since I wrote the other day on the discord that has often drifted through our home lately (tumultuous erraticism is how I think of it), it's been quiet.

Not forcefully quiet, just... easy.
Peaceful.

Maybe much of the stress has been spawned by the pressures of the holidays. Though I wasn't feeling frenzied by it all, really. Maybe it's because we've been cooped up - it's so damned cold, usually. Maybe it's because Little Son is trying on lots of "let's make me (him) laugh" hats, and I never get the jokes. (No one around here gets my jokes, either, so we're even with that one.)

Most likely I feel relief because I've just stepped out of it.

After realizing that I need to provide him space to Just Be -and by "space", I mean without confines of what I deem as acceptable or appropriate (ie that which doesn't bother or annoy me)- it's been quiet.
I don't suppose that one has much to do with the other, other than I'm not hyper-vigilant about noticing every little thing, nor am I looking for reasons to be annoyed.
What I mean is - I don't see how just flipping it over in my head has led to his quiet and peace, but perhaps he's already feeling less "bound", both by spending time independently outside on the snow hill, and by my non-judgments of his emotions.

I've been reading Naomi's book, almost wrapped up the first hundred pages. (I've read most it before, but it's been a while.)
The very first page or two was about negating emotions, and while I have been attempting to validate, my own emotional stability has been so precarious that I can see what I've actually been doing is negating - attempting to have him come over to my side - to see things from my perspective - that Things Aren't So Bad.
yuck.
Such a dolt am I.
Swaying with a big smile instead of "Dude. That sucks."
In my defense, it's because there's been so much of this sucks! ("stupid wall! " "stupid socks!" "stupid floor for tripping me!") that I just couldn't handle another drop. But of course eventually I came to a place of "well, this obviously isn't working...." and was able to let myself crash hard enough into the wall that it dazed me well enough that I was able to reason with a blank slate. :)

I don't imagine that it's over - there's a long road ahead. Now's a good time to start, as I'm a day or two over pmsing, so.....

I'm not quite in that blissful, peaceful, "aaaaaah" state that is so lovely, (Lord I miss that feeling!)
but there's a quiet satisfaction. Something about let's get this house cleaned, some yummy oils burning in the bowls, envision cleansing and purefication as we go (maybe burn a dressed candle or two), stop for plenty of cuddles and conversations, and see where it takes us.

So that's my plan.
On to it, then. :)

Mice for Sale!

We have mice that you can buy.
For cheap!

We would prefer that you'd come catch your own (in which case you can have them For Free!), or you can choose one from our little friendly mouse-catchers.

You'd better hurry - we only keep them around for a day or two in the catchers before we take them to live at the park.

sigh.

hmmph

Okay, it's 4:01 and it's starting to get dark. Sheesh!
I mean... come on!
Not dark dark, but it will be soon enough.
Thank goodness we don't live any further north than we do.
psh.

out on a limb: help

Hi friends.
I'm in need of help.

I am hoping for some advice and aid in the name of Parenting A Nekked Child And What Is Perfectly Normal.
(Please be patient with the code words. Don't want anyone stumbling to my blogs looking for something horrid.)

I think I'm extremely suspicious and fearful when it comes to the well-being of my children.
While I really and truly do not suspect that I was harmed as a child, I was raised with uncommon fears of Kidnappers -- all of my nightmares were of being kidnapped.
My mother's greatest fear... made into my own.

I'm worried that I will, or even worse -am- projecting my own parental fears onto my children.
I do not believe (or really seriously question) that anything untoward has happened. There is nothing of a weird or mature nature going on - just things that I see and freak on.

The very basics I can deal with.
Body manipulation, if you will.
I've no problem with that.
I just say "that's for your bedroom when you're alone - not for anyone else to see." Though I don't think my son is interested at the moment. (with tongue in cheek, and in a tone full of levity, I'll say I'm sure that in a few years, that will change!)

But anytime I see anything new, I freak.
Like last night I hear "I'm gonna poo on you!" and Trev laughed, and soon Maddie had stripped off her drawers, and was sitting buck nekked on Trev. "Mom! Maddie's nakxx!"
I got all weird about it.
"That's not okay...", "Inappropriate".... "Not safe to teach Maddie that sitting on people when she's naked is alright..."
And then today Trev started to call for me (because Madd was, again) and then stopped, as he didn't want Maddie to get in trouble because I freaked so badly last night.

The problem is that I freak first and ask questions later.
And I make a much bigger deal out of it than it needs to be.
Because of my own hang-ups, I know.

I try (afterward, when I take the time to actually think) to ask myself "Would this (behavior) be odd in a village full of naked (or semi) people?"
The answer is always No, that I'm just reading more into it because we live in a clothed (and private and maybe suppressed) society.

The problem is, I have no one to ask.
Except, I will be asking my mother, you can bet.
I have friends and family that I could ask, but most of them have two boys, or two girls, or the circumstances don't seem the same.
Though, I must say that Trev isn't a problem, he seems to have reached a maturity level that is just fondly indulgent with Madeleine, not so immature as to be pulled entirely into her games. (Such as hollering, "Mom! Maddie's nakxx again!!")

So I am in desperate need of your help.
Any "I'm familiar with this, and it's normal...", will do, or any great websites or any books on the subject. (I've actually done a search tonight, and feel better about the whole thing, though I was worried about what I'd come up with with the words I was using to search.. Had to make sure "parent" was in there.)

I am absolutely not open to "teach your kids that they have to be ashamed of their bodies and watch them with suspicion and be frightened with everything they do."
Anyone that wants to say as much can swiftly go to hell. And I wish you Godspeed.

But I'll gladly accept any advice that is given with a tone full of love, understanding, and empathy.
Frankly, it's all I can handle.

camera

Oof.
Startin to go crazy.
I'm entering the next season with no camera! The last part of summer, and the beginning of autumn with no pictures.
Shop called, can maybe fix, maybe no. Will know in two weeks. Or three. Hmmph.
The new Canon SX10 IS comes out in a week or so. I've got my eye on it. Is it wrong to almost hope that mine can't be fixed? I love mine! It has a great zoom, 12x optical, and the macro is wonderful. And it films movies.
But the new one! It has a zoom of 20x optical!!

I just want a camera.....

get with the times

oof.
I finally took my camera into the shop.
Was considering picking up a new one - either to keep or borrow, depending on repairs to mine (the drowned one. remember that?).
Turns out, Canon's new version of mine is out in 3 days, and no one in the valley has one.
Hopefully life will be back to normal with pics in a week!
I do okay, and then I go crazy with not having it....

on the side

mumbled jumble.

I've been living my life on the Outside.
Which to me means parenting on automatic pilot (though thankfully my "auto pilot" has come a long way in four years, and is mostly one I can trust, as long as I'm not operating in an angry or stressed state), living life with lots of action, reading lots of story books (mine), and spending loads of time with friends.

A couple of things occurred to me last night - as I was talking the ear off my friend. [ahem] Again.
One is that I haven't been writing because I've been getting through things in conversations, instead. Poor friends. :) Two - an introvert living as an extrovert is an interesting experience. I don't mean that I don't regularly experience these periods in my life - I do. What I mean is that I sort of feel cheated. Like I'm being superficial, I guess.
I like doing the work to get down deep into something. I can't explain the process, other than it's just a matter of organizing thoughts.

My focus in the last few months has been "I'm not the parent I want to Be."
Duh. Way to go about manifesting something, Steph.
My friend slapped me upside the head yesterday and said "You're focusing on that, instead of doing the work and changing it."
Indeed.
Focusing on what I don't want, what Is, and therefore creating more of it.
Just as if I didn't know better.

So I came immediately (after her statement) in my head -not out loud- to "But I don't know how to Get There. What work do I have to do?"

God, I'm an idiot.
I'm such an idiot.

I know the answer as well as I know my own Self.

I've just been too busy living on the outside, the underside, and on the side to sit still for a moment and Listen.
When I was finally still last night, I remembered.
That is, re-membered.

Something I've even written before.

You cannot Get There. You can only Be There.

So that's it, isn't it?
I can only choose well-being in this moment.
I can choose happiness in This moment.
I can choose kindness in This Moment.
It is in This Moment only that my life, my love, and my existence lies.
Everything else is formless - all the Ago's, all the Tomorrow's, and all the Next Times.

They're ethereal, vague, and shall never come.

In all moments -
I cannot Arrive - I can only Be.

whadda ya do...

... when you've been thinking Pond at the western (for water) border (of your property) for four years
or
chickens (last year and part of this one, 'til dh says "No." (The Feminist in me demands that I tell you that of course He is not the final word, but that he also has An Equal Voice in this household...)
or
when you find yourself trying to outrun your babes first thing in the morning insisting "I'm in a time-out, really!!!" looking frantically for a meditation spot among herbs and earthiness....
for two hours.
And the bills are paid.
And there's a few extra bucks in the checking account?

Dig a pond, of course.

Think...
Zen.
Think ethereal OM-ness.
Think drowns out the noise of the cooler, and quite possible the shouts of the babes playing in the pool.

I write this as Maddie spots my face and arm with blue raspberry scented magic marker.

You get my point, don't you?
I don't need to justify "Peaceful Water Garden", to you!

life

my life's been complicated.
well - sometimes.

sometimes i'm bemused, sometimes i'm stressed, sometimes i'm in awe (such as with maddie's skills - she has amazing skills with the computer. if someone else's desktop is up on the computer she wants, she'll shut it down and restart it again so that she can choose her desktop from the start screen. She navigates the computer and the mouse with amazing accuracy. went from "Mom, help me with this" -every two seconds- to all by herself. phew.)

finally finished my work with bc. all is going pretty well there, had 259 pageloads (none of them my own) and 87 visitors yesterday, so i'm pretty pleased with that. hopefully people like it, and will keep coming around. we'll see. the only feedback i get is the statcounter, so i have no idea what people are thinking.

but other things are complicated.

had to send my notebook in to Dell - my speakers were doing some funky thing.
had to (completely, mind you) wipe out my computer before hand to see if it was software. it wasn't. grrr.
got it back yesterday (Dell is soooooo fast! - think it was gone for four/five days - over the weekend) so yesterday when i had planned to clean house, i got my laptop back instead, and fiddled with it all day. cant get itunes/library to work. hmmph.

the other day, saturday, trevy and i were invited to go to the children's theatre.
when i got back home, eric and my mother had a story for me.
apparently, my mom stopped by to see us for a sec. eric was gardening in the backyard, with maddie. my mom pulled up, and Gladys (you know the one) said to my mother, "oh, you've just missed them. she left a little while ago with The Boy, and He walked up the street with something in his hand, i think he went to mail a letter."
"What?" my mom asked, confused.
"Yeah, he left, too."
"Well.... did he have Maddie with him?"
"No, no. Just him."
"Well..... did Stephanie take Maddie with her?"
"No, just The Boy."
"Well he wouldn't just leave Maddie by herself!" my mom answered her, irritated.
"I dunno, maybe he took 'er to the babysitter or somethin'."
"No. I'm the only one that babysits them!" (irritated with her, not with eric, mind you. knowing damned well now that she doesn't know what she's talking about.)
and my mother preceded to walk into my house, and headed out the back door to find eric in the backyard with maddie. (who pretty soon came into the front yard to show my mother our veggies and berries growing in the front yard - with maddie on his hip.)
eric said she knew damned well he hadn't gone anywhere. he said, "maddie and i have been out here, in front, and so has she, we've been playing and going in and out of the house...." etc, etc.

so my (sickening) question is.... is she being malicious? or is she just a nitwit? i mean, i totally believe her to be a nitwit, but is she deliberately causing us trouble, too?
i was actually relieved at first, because i was thinking "well, obviously whatever she says is not to be taken seriously. she's just one of these people that gets an idea in her head and runs with it." but this is someone that gossips with the neighbors. and this is someone who called dcfs (oh, i forgot to tell you about that - they came to our house AGAIN!) and told them that i locked my son out of the house when he was naked and made him eat his sandwich on the porch. in the rain.

so at this point, i am thinking.... obviously she cannot be trusted. which i knew. my relief came from "her suppositions are not reflections of what is going on in my home. it never looked like i locked my son out in the rain. i am not to be blamed for this. (her erroneous conclusions)"
relief, there.
but not if she talks to the neighbors.
and here i just wanna cry, and say, Please, God.
Please protect us from Her.
Please protect us from her telling the neighbors her stories, and having them believe her.

complicated.
it feels akin to conspiracy, you know? i mean, what if the things she puts in people's heads they come to believe?

my mind has been all around this. "I wonder if i'll end up suing her for slander." Can I call dcfs and complain? should i be more visible and loving with my children in the front yard, for the neighbors benefit? speaking of which...
the other day my mom and i were outside talking, and she came out, talking loudly - totally for our benefit- "Oh, Lucky, you're such a clean dog. Did you get a bath? Lucky, no, Lucky, no! Now you stay outta that dirt, Lucky. Lucky, you're a clean dog, you stay outta that dirt. Oh, com'ere, you clean dog....."
I didn't say a word to my mother, just rolled my eyes in my head to myself. A few minutes later, we came inside, and my mother (who is absolutely not the most astute person in the world) "Did you hear her over there? She was saying all that to impress us. She wanted us to hear her."
"Yup." I said.
"Gah!" my Mom said.
Now what the hell do I care, I ask you, if her dog is clean or even has fleas. Other than i'd feel bad for his discomfort.

So the answer is no, i shall absolutely not live my life in a false manner to impress the neighbors. But I worry about raising my voice. I always feel like she's peeking out her window to see into my house. We pretty much live -when the weather is not way too hot or way too cold - with open windows, doors, and always open curtains.

I don't think she's out to get me.
But she has a really wierd somethin/somethin going on in her head. She told me she's gardening organically. And bought mantises to help control the bugs. She knows we're organic. Two weeks later she was out there telling her husband they need to spray the dandelions. (inconsistencies).

she told me about her twenty children - not sure what's up with that. i think she was a foster mother? she told me about how her son molested her daughter. (that was the day she came over here last year to "set me straight". "One day I caught him with his hand down my daughter's shirt!!!" she said. I didn't know what the hell she was trying to tell me, so i skipped over it. Now I think she was trying to tell me that if my chldren run around in their nothin's they will be come sex offenders. Which is so ridiculous that I won't even respond to it.

When she came to my home last summer - remember, when I cried for several days over the dcfs thing, when she said the people that were going to buy the house next door told her they saw our children naked, and it was going to "be a problem"? and she came over here to tell me "they seem the type to call dcfs, and they'll take your children away." to which i said "No they won't, they can't just because you're babies are naked!" and she said "Oh yes they will..."blahblahblah - turns out SHE had called them. and they didn't show up until 9 months later - which i was sorta relieved by, they took that long to make a visit. and sent someone about 19 years old, and very unofficial. tells me they didn't take it very seriously.

anyway.

had a dream last night that the neighbor on the other side of her died and his house was up for sale.
I was trying to figure out what to do to stop her from turning them against us.

Probably doesn't help that i watch the news every damned day and i see the Texas polygamist trial every damned day.
Heard the other day "one week old baby is away from its mother...." evidently she had a child while in custody, and they took the newborn away? What?

See? Complicated.

I told you that i've put bushes, berries and vines on my front fence, right? Solely for the purpose of keeping Gladys' eyes out of my front yard.

i really need to get to a place of peace (probably another instigator, haven't taken the time to meditate and walk) so i can separate my mind from the crap.

it terrifies me that i might be adding to any future or present trouble by being so focused on it. Several times a day I wonder if dcfs is coming to my door.

i would like to clear it out, and to come up with the best solution.

i partly think "just send her love". send her understanding, send her love, send her support. Not outwardly - outwardly i think it's best to wave or say hello, and that's it. no conversations at all.

but part of me is also very afraid to send her love and well wishes.
not really sure why.
maybe because i'm afraid i'll make her more powerful.

need to get to the bottom of all this mess in my head.

The Medicated Child

I thought it must be on YouTube, so I went looking for it.



Here's the first part (youtube), the whole thing can be viewed on PBS, the link is here.

There were so many times during the program that Eric would come in (or stayed to watch the train-wreck) and I would just find myself shouting and bubbling over, near tears, angry, seriously depressed, suspect of parents, angry at doctors (especially when one mother made an appointment to find out what the alternatives were, to make sure she was doing the best for her child, and leaving with the appointment with the subscription increased instead of decreased) and terrified for the children, and physically ill over seeing their twitches and tics develop.

As all this was happening, I thought of my little son, and his pre-bedtime romps, and how he runs from room to room, stops and does a little wiggle or dance, and runs off again. (Especially if he's not had enough physical activity during the day.)
He has started staying up later - sometimes staying up 'til 11:00 or even midnight.
I thought about this beautiful child - often times full to bursting with energy, a child who does not like to write or draw, a child who has no interest (hardly ever) in doing fuzzy crafts.
I thought of how he craves shouting with laughter.
How physical contact with his Daddy is such an essential -imperative- part of his day.

I thought of someone else parenting him (and all the children like him) and trying to get him to sit in school and pretend to be listening if he were feeling exuberant.
I thought of someone else being his parent at bedtime, and insisting that this child "Go to bed and go to sleep Right This Minute" (instead of being annoyed at the -seems like- middle-of-the-night rambunctiousness, as his daddy and I sometimes are).

My child is not a raging maniac.
He is a little boy.
He gets frustrated at computer games (and old computers that crash every few minutes), he jumps and hollers during an exciting cartoon, he talks animatedly about prehistory, informing his mother and father about evolution, and he has energy to spend.
He (quite naturally for him) sleeps late and stays up late. I think he prob'ly gets that from his daddy.
He is an excellent communicator, is loving, is rambunctious, sometimes loud, and always expressive.

I am terrified and sickened to think that another would judge his exuberance as something that must be controlled with drugs. I don't think it's in question that he would be.

I do not keep my son at home because he is unfit for society, or unfit for school.
I keep my children at home so that I can nurture who they are, and give them a safe place to be themselves, fully and exuberantly.
I love who they are, and shall never consider changing who they are with medication.

I cannot tell how strongly I feel about this abomination of doctors and experts (be they psychiatrists who admittedly do not know much about the drug effects) or teachers or parents who don't know what to do with this child.
I find it the most heinous of offenses that they would look to this child and ask "What is the matter with you!?!" and medicate, instead of finding out what has caused the child to feel so frustrated, angry, irritable, pissed off, disrespected, cheated, abandoned, and sorely misunderstood in the first place.

When will we look to understand the cause of our dis-eases, instead of covering up the symptoms?

babies on pills

I'm sittin' here on my couch, doing my mom's taxes, watching Frontline on channel 7 (PBS) and tonight it's about young children on drugs.
Meds.
ADHD.
ADHD misdiagnosed - now calling it bipoloar. (Formerly known as manic depressive.)

Babies. Bipolar babies.
Babies on Lithium.
I can't decide if I need to cry or throw up.

note

I didn't mean to be unforthcoming or cryptic in my post yesterday... I had a really bad few minutes (regarding Mrs. Kravitz, remember her?) and I went through a myriad of emotions in a very short time (mostly fear) and then dh said something Really Stupid (his words, not mine) that made me feel even worse, and and and.

But I'll probably write it someday soon (or not) for posterity's sake.

I am recovered, now.
Thank God.

discomfort

so of course after I wrote of my not being rattled by anything, i've been a bit unsettled since then. :) isn't that the way it goes?
i was feeling a bit agitated today, found myself snapping at my family, and felt that i really needed to walk it off for a while.
off i went.
two things happened - one, someone got off the bus, walking in front of me, and i felt uncomfortable, and uneasy with him - no idea why, that's not how i normally feel with people; and two, after i passed him up, this other man (wearing a black suitcoat, white shirt and tie) in this car waited and waited for me to cross in front of his car (is he waiting for me? well, that's nice, but he has plenty of time to turn before i get there...) then he turned the same corner that i did, then went up the street, then turned around so he was facing me. i walk in the road (they're neighborhood roads, not busy streets), so i would have passed right by his door - i turned up a street between he and i instead. not to avoid him, i wasn't at all alarmed, just to extend my walk another half mile. he moved his car to up the street that i was now walking on, and again i would have had to walk right by his door. now i was really uncomfortable, and i crossed the street to avoid any contact. i thought i saw him again later, but i think it might have been my nerves at that point. course, i was careful to watch closely for any dark gray cars as i got closer to home.

Thich wasn't much comfort for me, today.
didn't even really hear him talking to me.

now i'm gonna play with the babes and shake it off.
wierd.

freedom from judgment

I've written about this a lot over the last year.
After a rather extraordinary and astounding mishap last night (promise to tell you later, it has to do with Question") I have begun to think - again - "What in tarnation is this trying to tell me, and what does it have to do with my life?"
I am getting to a point now, that I am wondering if the answer isn't "Your judgments about the thing are bringing your reality."
Which of course I know - that we all create our own reality with our thoughts about any given situation or thing, ie - we can choose to go through life as anything we wish - a victim, a martyr, a leader, a zen master, a philosopher, a sycophant - whatever takes our fancy.
As Melissia and I were discussing last night, some of us choose to believe that we were put on this earth to suffer, and maybe even that we are challenged to be happy with that suffering, others of us believe life should be celebrated as joyfully as possible.

I think I am being called to face my own judgments.
I don't mean the ones that have me mumbling "jackass!" to the idiot driver next to me, though I'd certainly do well to lose those, but the judgments about my self, my children, my life, and my reality.
I've told you before that I believe if there is something to be learned, you'll get a tap on the shoulder, followed by an "ahem", followed by maybe a tree root sticking out to trip you up a bit, slowing you down long enough take note of your surroundings - eventually, arriving with a brick to the back of your head, if necessary.
It's somewhere between the tree root and the brick that I find myself currently. Maybe like the tree root sent me flying into a deep pit, and I have to figure out exactly where I am, and how exactly I am going to get out.
Not that I feel punished. I do not.
I actually am quite comfortable in this place, and am finding it not so bad. Like I am observing the pit itself with a non judging eye, and not fighting to get out at all. Rather taking note of the things the walls of dirt and tree roots have to tell me, wondering if there are any interesting rocks or stones or other treasures to be found.

Here's what happened: I dropped a glass of beer on my laptop last night. I was standing over it (no, I wasn't drunk, thank you very much! :) ) and it just fell straight down, through my fingers. Exploded (the beer, not the glass) all over the open notebook.
Within a quarter-second I had flipped it over, had it unplugged from the wall, and had the power jack unplugged from the machine.
My dad called right at that time. I was still in a state of utter disbelief. (He had called me back, we were discussing the ill state of my desktop that I had sent to him for repairs) "You're kidding," he said. "No, I'm not." "Did you cry?" "I haven't even had time, yet." "Was it just water?" Gulp. "Oh, no. It was beer." "Oh, God," he said." Oh, God is exactly what I was thinking. "Take out the battery."
"Go to AutoZone, and get this stuff called CRC QD Electrical Cleaner. Take it apart as far as you can (again), cover up the screen to protect it (again), spray it out, letting it run out the side that got the most wet, put it under the lamp (again!) and let it dry out 'til morning."
Frankly, I was too stunned to even imagine a moment beyond turning on my machine this morning. I couldn't imagine what I'd say to Dell, couldn't imagine that the stuff would actually save my machine.
Last night my resulting post of "Question" was written on Trev's machine.

And this morning? This morning I am writing while sitting sideways in my wing-backed chair in the livingroom, machine on my lap, legs over the side of the chair and feet on the end table. Wondering if I should have a cuppa hot cocoa/coffee or iced tea.

Thinkin' about God, and wondering if Her car ever gets rusty.
But that's a tale for later...

Question

Here's a question for you.
While it's a rather silly question, and has any number of answers, I am quite serious in the asking of it, and would love to hear any and all responses.

Does (or would) God ever drive/purchase a new car?

I don't care to what religion you belong, or to what philosophical agenda you subscribe. I don't even care whether you believe in God, or not.
I will appreciate your thoughts and answers to the question.

Tomorrow or the next day I'll tell you why I am asking. (It's a doozy.)
I shall truly apprciate any responses - the silly or sublime, the serious or the sarcastic.
Looking forward to your insight.

appearances

Here is a post I started to write a couple of weeks ago - right after the trouble with NCM...

July 23, 8:41am

I am having a thought that no wonder people try so damned hard to keep up appearances.
It's so people will leave them the hell alone, and not scrutinize what is going on on the inside. Maybe they think that if things look okay on the outside, no one will see the darkness (self doubt, pain, unworthiness) on the inside.

That's not how I choose to live my life.
I pretty much live my life on the outside. (aside from some messes around the house sometimes that I'd not want others to see. - vomited spoons and all that)
I feel I live my life truly and well, and I have nothing to hide, or be ashamed of.
I am confident.

But this has disturbed me. Made me feel like all of my choices and faults might be things to be ashamed of.
Made me think of every word that I've written here. Made me think of all my controversial choices regarding my children. Made me think of things I've said to intimates that could be held against me.

Made me doubt - even if only for a moment or two - all that I believe in, all that I am, and all that I attain to be.

I resent that.

I'm not attempting to put the blame for my own reeling emotions onto another.
What I'm angry about is that the thought of living a false life - one where flattery, keeping up appearances, presenting one's self as a friend, or "the same" as another in order to "get along in this world" appears to be the better, and easier way to live in this world (at least in this particular moment).
Eric said yesterday after NCM left something about "It's to be expected, babe. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

I'm not railing against natural laws, or against modesty. I am called to raise my children in freedom, safety, and love so that I can protect them and encourage them to be Who They Are.


(August 3, 10:58pm)

I didn't finish it, and I didn't publish it. Eventually I dropped it, as I got over the feelings, and resentment.
Until today.

I was sitting on the front porch, reading and writing, as Maddie wanted to be in the front yard earlier, so I set up camp on the porch.

"Hello!" I hear, but I couldn't see a thing, as I had been looking at the screen, and was blinded in the darkness. But she called again.
It's a neighbor. This one lives across the street.

"Hi. I just wanted to come over and talk to you.... are you having problems with us across the street?"
"No." What?
"Are you still upset about all the traffic from Cat's place?" There are two duplexes across the street from me. It's always been like a strange little commune over there. But aside from the people calling dcfs this winter, I've never had a problem with anyone.
However, we are suspecting (ahem) that the neighbor in the rear is dealing something despicious, as there are -no kidding!- like 25 cars over there a day. Every day.
"Well, I notice the traffic, but...."
"Nancy and I want you to know (Nanc has lived there forever) that it isn't us!"
"I know that."
"Well, someone said they saw you taking pictures at cars over there the other day."
What?
Fence rail!
"Was it the day it started raining?!?" I'm starting to get pissed. (Sam will be proud that I said pissed. She always takes pleasure in such things.)
"I don't know" says nice neighbor. ""We would just like you to come to us if you have problem with anything."
"I wasn't spying on you, I was taking pictures of the damned fence. And rose bushes. I write and take pictures." Unbelievable.
"Oh. Well, I don't want to get in the middle of it... " the middle of what? "I just wanted to talk to you about it."
"Who said I was taking pictures?" As if I couldn't guess.
"That lady that lives there." Yup. You guessed it. NCM. Hereafter known as Mrs. Gladys Kravitz.
Now know friends, that I had planned to write a note to you and tell you that I was no longer suspicious of NCM, and that I had changed my mind, that I did not think her harmful. I just kept forgetting to do it.
I was feeling like I was unfair, and wanted to set the record straight.

The thing is.... she mentioned to me, too, that she thought something suspicious was going on across the street. (next door to her.) But today I heard her over there visiting, just as if she hadn't been speaking ill of her house a few days before.
Neighborhood gossip, I know... and you don't care.

The thing is, neither do I. I've never even considered that it was a problem.

Then Nice Neighbor says something about "Nancy wanted you to know that it wasn't her that called the dcfs last year, it was the people that lived in our place" (before them). Which I suspected.
But - Oh, lovely. Now the neighbors are talking amongst themselves about it.
Perfect!
And let's tell Mrs Kravitz about it, too, so that she can make sure and tell the new (potential) neighbors before they even move in!

I'm not trying to be a whiner, folks, but I am thoroughly disgusted.
So what did I do?
You'll be verra disappointed with me, of course, but stay with me - my sense prevailed in the end. I have lived in this house for four plus years, and never closed my front room curtain. Never. Day or night. Never saw a need to. I have to go to the little girl's room, and I notice Trev's door open, and think, "Prime spot for some binoculars to come traveling through." Shut the door. (wouldn't dream of shutting the door to the potty, no one is around!) Visited the bathroom. Go walking past the livingroom, Trev is four inches away from the tellie set. "Not so close, Bub," thinking Mrs. Kravitz will see him. Kid up past ten. Eating an icecream bar. Watching television.
"What?" he asked.
"I said... " what the hell am I thinking? "Never mind, son." Closed that damned blind down, instead. "Do you want me to pull the chair over?" so he can get a better view without being an inch away.
"Yeah!"
So that's what we did.
And my front blind remains closed.
Eric will wonder what in tarnation happened... but then he'll remember, as I've already told him the sorry tale.

There is some learning to be done here.
I'm not sure what it is.
Could be remembering that spell to halt gossip.
Could be to not trust people so much.
Could be to plant more trees/bushes along my southern (street) border.
Could be to stand even taller, and remember "screw 'em".
Could be that I need to win one over at a time, not with gossip and ondits, but with appreciation for whom they are, and acceptance. (that one feels pretty difficult at the moment.) But I don't mean Gladys.
I read a post of Laura's at Wistful Wanderlust. About this very thing. ("there are the people who ask questions in search of faults.") It saved me today.
lol - Eric just got home and said "Why is the blind closed?"

Ah, well.
It's midnight, and I'll not be resolving this tonight.
To be continued.

July 24

It's been a shitty, ugly day today.

Full of pain, and terror, and paranoia, and doubts, frustration, and totally out of my own head and heart and in the bottom of the cess pool.

I've ignored my children all day -skimmed right over their delights and discoveries without even taking note of their joy (even, heartbreakingly when they were trying to share it with me). That just makes me want to bawl. Not intentionally, but had my head and thoughts in some very dreggish places, and I was not able to climb out of it.

Yesterday (evening) I was in such a great place - I read and was confident again in the way we live our lives.

Today... no.

Started off looking at laws again. Trying to find out if the children being in our backyard naked was illegal, or not.
While doing searches for that - while not coming across any por*ography (except for one adult site) I had to sift through all this garbage on se* o**enders ( * don't want any wierd searches leading folks here) and child por* laws, etc. For hours. Not the way I want to spend my day. Dregs, I tell you.
Then I had to read about how dcfs can and will take children away from their homes for a messy kitchen. Or laundry on laundry day. More and more crap. I also read that you don't appear at trial before peers (parents who would certainly understand) but a judge who is automatically looking at you as an evil-doer. And there is no presumption of innocence, in fact, but the proof is put upon the parent. You have to prove that you're emotionless, and contrite, and not angry and stable in front of a judge with an axe, while you have not seen your children in two weeks.

Yelled at my children "No naked outside!" rush-them-back-in-as-fast-as-I-can "Put your drawers on!" and they look at me like I'm crazy and mean, and that I make no sense. Which of course I don't.

It's total craziness, and I feel powerless to stop it.
I feel threatened. I feel threatened with my life (which is my children and home) and I feel outcast, and that I could never explain my life to one who would only accept contrition and absolute conformity.

I tell you this.... I will never, ever again, upon my oath assume that someone is even a little bit guilty when they tell me they have had problems with dcfs.

I am hoping that is my lesson to be learned in all of this... judge not lest you be judged.

I've been drug down.
With my puffy eyes, snotty nose, delirous mind and thudding chest.
Everything haunts me.

Tomorrow - tomorrow hopefully I shall obliterate this whole mess!
First I'll curse it.
Then I'll spit on it.
Then I'll feed it to Annabelle so she can poop it out.
Then I'll burn it.
Then... then I don't know. Maybe I can just feed it to the worms so that they can make something good out of it.

Blah. I gotta go. I'm spent.
Here's to tomorrow.

abysmal

There are so many thoughts and layers and questions and doubts and fears... and there is anger.
I am hurt, I am feeling betrayed by my fellow man, and I am angry.

While we were getting ready to go to the mountains for the afternoon, NC's Mama came over. She had lipstick on (how strange) and said she came over to chat. I invited her in, knowing immediately something was up. (My livingroom floor was in desperate need of a vacuuming, Maddie had spilled cashews on the carpet a few minutes before, and it hadn't been vacuumed yesterday, as I worked all day, and then we ran errands last night. Figures.)

We visit for a while, then she tells me that the people who are thinking (in process?) of buying the house next door made it a point to go over to her house to inquire about our naked children. Evidently they've been here three times, and seen bare hind ends all three times. "That's going to be an issue." Were their apparent words to her. And then NCM said "They don't seem the type to come to you and talk to you about it. I think they might just call dcfs. They seemed nice, and everything, and I don't want you to hold it against them, but I just wanted you to be warned."

She went on to suggest a 6 foot fence (most of our that side does have a wood fence).

I made some comment like "They wouldn't take my children away because they're naked for heavens sake (streakers)" and she said "Oh, yes, they would."

What?!?
Really, What?!?

She went on to say that she's been on both sides of dcfs, and they in fact would, and do take children away for such things. That in fact, they more often take children away from good homes than bad. Good parents will fight like hell to get their children back. Bad ones won't. Good ones will jump through hoops, pay exorbitant amounts of money. Bad ones won't. Can you believe such a thing?
I'm crying as I write this, friends.
What kind of screwed up world is this where this is the standard operation procedure? I have been trying to track down information on naked, and the laws, but I haven't been able to find anything so far. I did run into a site called kidjacked, and learned a few things about dcfs. Like that they are trained more in manipulation than in anything else. That they are taught to believe that "All parents are potential abusers." That they will blatantly lie to you and your children. There are many other terrors.
I can hardly believe it, actually. It's hard for me to fathom that ordinary (well, you know) people's children could just be taken away. The world just doesn't work that way. There is such a thing as rightful living, and karma, and living with love and kindness, and and and....
That site convinced me that it does happen. That I need to go into this with my eyes wide open.

Being a little paranoid, you might say.
But the sad truth is that I am not.
I've already had one run in with them.
This last winter.
My little son, being the boy that he is, was rather fond of running outside for a flash, long enough to grab a handful of snow, and bring it back inside. In whatever he was dressed in at the time. Usually a long sleeved t-shirt and drawers.
I don't request or require that he put on a coat and shoes for such a thing. I don't see any harm in running outdoors in your bare feet and drawers for twelve seconds. I'll run out and get the mail in the same condition.
Evidently a neighbor had a problem with it, for dcfs showed up at my door.
Something like "can we come in?" "I guess....." (not ever again will I say that after reading on that site.) "you've been reported to be neglectful of your children, and we came to talk to you about it...."
You can imagine my reaction. I was stunned, and just sat and stared at them.
Told him he ran out to get snow, for a few seconds, and I didn't have a problem with it. That he liked to take it to the bathroom sink and melt it. "Yeah, it's an experiment!" little son piped in.
I was "cleared", if you want to call it that, officially a couple of weeks later. But I did write them a letter (to which they didn't respond), and she warned of the children being naked in the front yard, and I said quite blatantly that I would contain their naked selves in the back. And I do. We have a streaker from time to time, but usually they're shooed back in the house right away. Not necessarily to protect my neighbor's eyes from the atrocity of a naked bum, but to protect my children.

So the impossible has happened once before. All in the name of misunderstanding. All in the name of The World At Large not understanding freedom. All in the name of judgment. Of jumping to conclusions. All in the name of people living in fear.

Which brings me to another part of this process that I am really angry about.
I don't live my life in fear. I Don't Live My Life In Fear. I choose love. I choose to trust. I choose to live rightfully, and believe that you create your own reality. That all things come to you for a reason.
I refuse - refuse- to believe that I need to live my life according to another's judgment. To replace a common held belief with my own judgment -just because someone says I should.
I've questioned 'why' my whole life. Why should I do that? Why do you think that? Why is that a law? Why should I put this ingredient in before this one? Why does it need to be done this way?
Always question.
If it doesn't make sense to me, often I'll disregard it. 'Just because' is never an answer for me.
So I'm angry that others expect me to think (and act) the same way they do. I'm angry that others expect compliance "just because". I'm really angry (and disgusted, and disturbed, and hurt) that someone would see a naked child and think something bad about it. That there must be something terrible going on. That the parents must be at best neglectful. That the children themselves must be perpetrators of some sort. Damn them.
I'm angry that I felt driven to that kidjacked site. That I had to read (and believe) the worst of the world (its officials), and be informed that bad things happen to good parents. I'm infuriated that this stupid occurrence could change my life, and change the lives of my children. That they may come to a conclusion that they should be ashamed of themselves for living their lives in a happy and free way.
Damn them.
I'm angry that this could change who I am. That I question my faith in humanity. That my belief and faith that gentleness and kindness and love are the way to live your life, and that nothing bad can touch you if you live in such a way is shaken.
That there are practices and instruction for "officials" on how to manipulate children and unsuspecting parents into saying the wrong thing. Not many things make me more angry than "turning words around", and then leaving no room for explanation.
I'm angry that all of these things are coming up just because one person said "that will be/could be an issue." whatever the hell they said.

I've got some serious praying (in my way, as Laura said not too long ago) to do to figure this thing out. To figure out how to go on.
Of course we are encouraging the children to wear clothes while they are in their very own backyard now. Trev wants to know why. I don't know what to tell him. I know that some people (to think kindly of it) are modest. But I don't know why. I don't know why they would look at a streaking babe and think "wicked" thoughts. My children don't understand that. They've not been taught that they have anything to be ashamed of. They don't poke and prod. It just is what it is. Like natives, actually.
Of course I'll eventually talk to the new neighbors (hopefully not ones that would rather call dcfs than speak to their next door neighbors!). Though I don't know what I'll say.
There is a line in a song by Cowboy Junkies that says
"But I won't let it change me,
not if I can.
I'd rather believe in love.
I give it away,
as much as I can
To those that I am fondest of."

So I've got some questions to answer. I need to uncover what I need to learn, and take with me the best of it, and get back to living my life happily.
And not let it change who we are.

In Disappointment

Let me just tell you how completely bummed we all are.
We were headed up the mountain, cruising along at a surprising 75 mph, considering we were fully loaded with gear and the five of us.
All of a sudden.... RRRrrrrr. Nothin'.
Won't go in gear. Won't do anything.
We pull over, and ponder. What the hell?

Eric checks stuff out (which is really pretty funny, he is like me, wouldn't recognize something wrong even if it were visible) and shrugs his shoulders. "I dunno."
Looks under the truck. Nothing spewing.
Wait a few minutes, try to start it. Nothing.

I wasn't worried, it was a 100 degrees (or sure seemed like it), we were almost to the top of Parley's (a pretty big climb), we were really loaded down, and the truck was just over heated, I thought. Seemed likely.
No worries. Give it a while.
Give it another while.
Trevy and I tried to catch grasshoppers a ways off the side of the road. They were tiny. And fast.
Tried again.
Not yet.
Still not worried.
Finally a really nice kid stopped to help us, he's driving an older 4Runner himself.
After some investigating... "I think it's either your timing belt or your fuel pump."
Not overheated, he said.
Tow truck? he asks.
(Note my sinking heart at this point.)
Tow truck!?! Can it be?
Not really true, is it?
But what about meeting The Sea Monster, Trev wants to know. (Yes, Moon Lake boasts The Moon Lake Monster.)
He not only planned on meeting him (her?) he planned on swimming with it. Even had me call Uncle Nate to see if he could borrow his scuba diving gear so he'd be sure to spot him. Didn't want to ask Uncle Nate himself because he didn't want his heart broken. (I told him that I didn't think Uncle Nate would have gear his size.) Turns out, Uncle Nate doesn't have any scuba gear, any more.

Had Eric try three more times while waiting for the tow truck.
Mmmmm......No.

Aaah, damn.
The whole way home (in the cab of the towtruck) we lamented and wailed about how Very Disappointed we all were.

Eric kept telling Trev how sorry he was, and sad for him, and eventually I complained "Aren't you sorry for Me, too? I certainly am!" I was half teasing, but very near tears myself. He said that indeed he was. Hmmph.

I sat myself down here (at home), terribly sad, bemoaning our fate, hoping to write my way into being healed of all heartache.

It has certainly helped that I'm sittin' here outside, on the back patio - there are rainclouds, making promises, looking dark and dangerous. My family is jumping on the tramp, playing, BAH!ing, and bouncing each other. Much laughter, roaring, hootin' and hollerin' is going on.
It's really quite nice.

I guess it won't bee too hard to find reasons for laughter and joy.

(just a few minutes later)
Now it's almost full dark. I've plugged in the white Christmas lights that I have draped around the covered patio.
The crickets are chirping. It's still, except for the waving occasional breeze on the treetops.
Just a short while ago I was having a hard time imagining any magic coming from this very ordinary (for me) scene.
It's all so usual. It's my favorite wicker chair. Feet crossed and propped up on the arm of the matching sofa. Tall cold glass of beer next to me on my little accent table.

Aah, hell. (Or Heaven.)
Sigh.
Yes, I s'pose this will do.