I was ten the year I had my one and only big sleepover. My mom felt ten was special and deserved to be treated as such. A sleepover with as many girls as I wanted to invite. I believe I had twelve girls over. Every girl in my class. I’d even invited the new girl, who I wasn’t a fan of. She’d been a shit starter from the second she walked in our class a month earlier. But I felt bad for her, so I invited her anyway.
I went to a small private school and anyone new was immediately noticed and popular. Mostly because hi, you are new! New and shiny. This chick though? She was a nightmare. I just hadn’t realized it completely. I’d been told by a few people that they wouldn’t come if she wasn’t invited. So yeah. I invited her.
My party started off just great. Everyone showed. We did a big scavenger hunt in groups around my neighborhood. There was a lot of shrieking and running around. Pizza and cake were eaten, presents were opened. It was the greatest birthday party ever.
Then my mom went to bed.
For some reason, one which I don’t remember anymore, my best friends younger sister Sarah was at the party as well. She was eight or so. A sweet kid who I’d known my entire life.
The new girl (Nicole) decided this sweet little girl was her mark for the night. I can’t tell you what all she did to her. I probably didn’t see 99% of it. All I know is that at 6am my mom came storming into the room declaring that we were all in trouble. Sarah had waited until then to tell my mom whatever had been done to her. I was in shock, but hey I was in trouble despite it. Nicole of course, blamed it all on me. I’ll never forget how mad my mom was. I’ll never forget crying as each of my friends parents were called and asked to come get their kids.
I never heard what all happened. It wasn’t nice though. This I know.
What I also know is that for the following month, I was the most unpopular kid in school. Until Nicole managed to disrupt everyone elses lives as well. As she befriended each girl in turn and made them turn on their old friends and then she turned on them…well then each one of them was suddenly nice to me again. At the end of the year, Nicole had run out of friends and funny enough, she didn’t show up the following year.
It made me fear sleepovers. With good reason I suppose. Girls can be seriously mean. I had a few after, but no more than say 3-4 girls. I always wanted the big group sleepover as a teen, but I never did it. I swore to myself that I’d never let my kids have a big sleepover like that.
I’ve managed to stick to it. Until now. Morgan will be ten years old in exactly a week. Since she turned four, she has been asking for a big sleepover as her birthday party. Every single year. Each year, I’ve put her off. We’ve done dinners at fancy restaurants with a few friends. We’ve done bouncy places. We’ve had a swim party, a gymnastics party and a cosmic bowling party.
But she’ll be ten. I, like my mother before me, believes that ten is special. So after trying to get her to have it at the wall to wall trampoline place didn’t work, I agreed. She invited twelve girls and ten RSVP’d yes. That’s eleven girls at my house for a sleepover this coming Saturday. Bailey and Harrison will spend the night with their dad, even though it’s my weekend. I’m not taking any chances. I know a lot of these girls, but I don’t know them well.
I’m scared people. I shouldn’t be. Morgan is a million times more with it than I was at her age. She won’t ignore anything and she won’t hesitate to come to me if need be. But girls are sneaky and mean. I’m wondering what the hell I set myself up for.
I fear the sleepover.
When Apple created the iOS 5 software update for my phone, I did what I was told and updated it. Eventually I went around and updated every other device in this house. For those who are curious, that’s my iPhone, my iPad, the kids iPad’s and three iTouch’s. Yes. We are spoiled. Moving on….
One of the great things that came with the update (besides it not deleting everything, which was my fear) was that the iTouch’s now have iMessage. The great thing about this, is that my girls can now iMessage me from their iTouch, when with their dad. When with me, they can iMessage him. They can iMessage my mom as well, which she finds highly enjoyable. It’s great actually. It means I can actually tell Morgan that no she really isn’t getting a phone at least for another year. Why? Because you can always iMessage me.
For the record, nine and seven year old children are pretty decent texters. Or my girls are at least. I have a rule that if you want to keep said shiny device, you will NEVER use text speak. If you mean you, you cannot type U. I’ll confiscate your iTouch for that.
It’s led to some funny conversations though. I tend to laugh, shake my head and try to figure out what they are actually saying. Other times, I end up calling their dad to ask them. Here’s a few for your viewing pleasure:
Me: Hey M, your friends like you too much. 10 of them RSVP’d to your party.
Morgan: Whoooooa. That’s because I am very mice.
Me: Mice?
M: Yes. Mice. Like Mickey.
Me: I am very mice too. That’s why I let you invite so many mice girls to our house.
M: You are mice mom. Very mice. It will be a very mice birthday. Maybe we can have some mice cream?
***********
M: Mommy were are you?
Me: Where.
M: Yes. Were are you at?
Me: Where.
M: MOMMY I need to know were you are so I know when you will come get me.
Me: WHERE.
M: Never mind.
************
Bailey: Mommy do you my blanky?
Me: Do I have your blankie?
Bailey: 
Me: I think it may be in the bottom of my car. Do you want me to bring it to you?
Bailey: *random emoticoms of whales, unicorns and thumbs up signs*
Me: Try for some real words please.
Bailey: Unicorn = Pease bring blanky to daddy home. ***
Me: Will do silly girl.
************
M: Mom, for Christmas can you get me a new bruther?
Me: Error. This mommy doesn’t talk about Christmas until after Thanksgiving.
M: Mommy, can you get me a new bruther for my birfday?**
Me: Error. This mommy doesn’t think new BROTHER’s come from a store. Therefore no.
M: STOP talking in second person.
Me: Third person?
M: Yes!!!!!!!
Me: Morgan? I am rather fond of your brother. I believe we are keeping him.
M: Noooooooooooooooooooooooo. He keeps jumping on my back when I sit down.
Me: This is simple. Don’t sit down.
M: You are no help.
Me: Try daddy. Maybe he is feeling helpful.
M: He told me to ask you. Can you just put him back?
Me: Yeah. No.
M: Why not?
Me: I’ll explain it to you when you turn 13.
*************
**Morgan can spell both birthday and brother. We all just have a bad habit of talking like said bruther does. What can I say? Three year olds are cute.
***Bailey gets a bit of a pass on spelling, since she’s only in second grade. We’ll keep working on it. Notice that she can fully spell unicorn. Priorities.
I am thankful for my three monkey kids who are my world.
I am thankful for my family being mostly healthy this year.
I am thankful that my mom and step-dad live only two hours away. Especially since I don’t have to take three kids on a plane this Thanksgiving.
I am thankful for my best friends who make my life so much better.
I am thankful for my dog who keeps me company when my kids are with Logan. Just don’t tell her I said it.
I am thankful for the pies sitting on my counter and the pumpkin brownies in the oven.
I am thankful for Starbucks. Always for Starbucks.
I am thankful that I’m doing so much better this year than last. I’m happier with my life than I have been in a few years.
I am thankful for a four day weekend. Ha.
Mostly though? I am thankful for each of you. I don’t know why you keep coming back here, but I’m so thankful that each of you do.
I hope everyone has a fantastic Thanksgiving.
1. I’m actually looking forward to the holidays this year. Last year was hard. It was the first year of sharing holidays. Even though we’d made it completely fair, it was still just hard. This year, we split up this week, as the kids have the whole week off. So right now they are in the mountains with Logan and his parents and they’ll have a blast. Wednesday night they come to me and we’ll go to my parents for three days. Christmas break will be the same. We’ve sorta just split it down the middle. I’ve gotten to where I enjoy the time with them and (mostly) don’t fret about the time without.
2. Of course I cried for a few minutes yesterday after leaving them with him. Which, sorta weirded me out. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. It was momentary.
3. I won something on the Internet for the first time ever. I’ve been blogging since late 2005. I’ve entered a zillion contests. I rarely enter them now, just because I know I’ll never win. Last week, I entered Jodifur’s contest. Mostly because I like her. Yet I WON! Go me. Also thank you Jodi.
4. There are days where I wonder what in the world I’m doing online. Days where I find it all so tiring. Days where it feels like more work than fun. Then I see something like Anna’s daughter Margaret getting to go to the AMA’s and meet Justin Beiber, all because of social media and I know why I’m here. I remember why I do this. Because the Internet is filled with amazing people. People who help a devastated little girl have a night of pure joy.
5. I’m currently addicted to Plants vs. Zombies. It’s a silly game that’s been out for a long time. The other night I needed something mindless to do. I downloaded the app. I Luff it. Seriously.
That’s what I know right now. If I don’t post again this week, I hope you all have a fantastic Thanksgiving.
I don’t remember where I saw that line, or if I heard it somewhere. It’s stuck in my mind for months and months. It may have been said to me, it may have been on the side of a bus. I think of it often.
It takes courage to feel.
Truer words have never been spoken. It does take courage. Maybe not the courage one thinks of, because we tend to think of the word in larger ways. People who run into burning buildings to save little old people. Kids fighting cancer. Anyone who stands up to a bully. Courage means all of that and more. That’s the joy of words, they tend to mean many things.
Can I tell you what else feeling your feelings does? It makes you very, very tired. I feel kinda foggy this week, if that makes sense. Which it may not. I’m not depressed. I’ve had no trouble getting up. Darkness at 5pm no longer makes me weepy. This week, so far, has been pretty decent. Yet, I feel like I’m walking around in a fog. Everything takes more energy than I have.
Last week was emotionally exhausting for me. Dealing with things that I tend to ignore, is hard. I don’t like being that person, the person who gets triggered by things in the news. I have to be honest and say, I am that person. Being triggered all week, was tiring. I am proud that I didn’t give into the depression. But it wasn’t easy.
Saying what I said the other day, wasn’t easy. I hate opening that closet and sharing what’s inside. I’d like to close that closet door and throw away the key, but I know that’s not healthy either. Tried that for years. It worked until it didn’t. I can’t do that again.
For now, I’ve re-closed that door. It means I can’t respond to your lovely, kind, supportive emails and comments. I’ve tried. Oh how I’ve tried. Just know, I appreciate every single one of you.
This week, I’m trying to be kind to myself. Last night I opened up the bag that was hiding the chocolates I bought for Christmas. My first Christmas purchase. Whatever. I will buy more. Sometimes you just need some Harry and David Treats. This week, I’ll recover from last week. Hopefully by next week, I’ll feel back to normal.
In other news, I just want to say a HUGE congratulations to my amazing friend Christy on the birth of her new baby boy yesterday.
I’ve tried to ignore it. For an entire week I’ve tried so very hard to ignore the Penn State drama. I’ve ignored Twitter. I’ve stopped reading news sites. I hit mark all as read on BlogHer in my reader. I’ve not commented on any posts about it.
Yet, I’ve been depressed. I’ve been falling. Sinking into a place that I hate. A place that I am having to fight very hard to not stay in. I could have blamed that on the time change. In fact, I have tried to blame it on that. But…I’ve been having stomach aches. I’ve been getting headaches. A single commercial can make me sad. I’ve started having nightmares again. It took me a few days, but I did figure out why.
This Penn State thing is a major trigger. In fact it’s the first major one since I spent a year in therapy trying to learn to deal with my issues. Trying to learn to not flip out like this at everything. Therapy was successful to a degree. There’s only so much work one can do on an issue though. It never goes away. I can’t seem to get away from this one, this time. With small triggers, I can. I’ve learned the skills to deal. This is EVERYWHERE though. I don’t blame the media, or people on Twitter for talking about it non-stop. It needs to be talked about. Maybe then next time someone will stand up and do the right thing. Next time someone sees or hears about a child being abused they will do the right thing. Instead of just thinking it’s none of their business. This issue? It’s everyones business.
I am triggered, because no one protected me. I was abused from seven to fifteen years old. I was sexually abused as a child and no one knew and no one ever protected me. I am damaged people. I put on a brave face and go about my life. But I’m still damaged. No amount of therapy changes that. I’ve learned to cope better. I’ve learned what not to watch, what not to read, what not to listen too. However, this will never go away from me.
I wasn’t protected. All kids deserve to be protected. All kids, no matter what, deserve that.
So…I hope you’ll forgive me for ignoring Twitter at times. For getting off Facebook. For not reading your posts about this issue. It’s not that I don’t care. Its that I have to protect myself. Because I’m the only one who will.
Once there was a boy. An older boy, but still a boy. He was seventeen years old. He had no facial hair. He was tall, yet still kinda scrawny. Strong willed. Opinionated. Bright. Kind. All of those things and more. The second to the youngest of nine children, he knew the only way to get anything in life, was to find a way to get it yourself.
This boy decided that the best way to get out of the middle of nowhere was to sign up for the military. There was a war going on anyway. It seemed only right. He was a strong, solid guy and that’s what they said they wanted. Nowhere, Texas was exactly where he didn’t want to stay. He went to the recruitment office for the Air Force the day after graduation and told them to sign him up. He wanted to be a pilot and he wanted to join. Today. Now. Right now. He didn’t care that he’d never been close to a plane, much less ridden in one. He knew he could learn anything.
The guy laughed and said, okay kid how old are you? Well….here’s the thing, the boy said, I’m seventeen. I won’t be eighteen until December. But I graduated from High School yesterday, I’m smart and sir I’m ready.
Son, we can’t take you until you’re eighteen. I’m sorry, the man told him, but thems the rules.
The boy hung his head and turned to leave.
Wait a second, the man got up walked over and said: let me walk you out. When they got outside, the man told him, son you come back in here tomorrow and tell me that today is your eighteenth birthday. It’s not like they make you prove it when we’re at war. The boy came back the next day. His “birthday” he said. He never looked back.
That boy grew into a strong man. A man who learned to fly. A man who flew in two wars for his country. A man who moved his family from place to place and never once complained about it, because he knew why he was doing it. In between the wars, he got an engineering degree and supervised new construction on bases all over the world. He was a phenomenal pilot and he trained as well as flew.
He’d joined the Air Force, to leave. He’d joined because the only life for him in Nowhere, Texas was to join his brother’s dairy farm and that wasn’t the life he wanted. He’d joined because there was no money to send the eighth of nine children to war. Hell, there wasn’t always shoes for the eighth of nine children. He joined to fly.
He stayed though, because he believed. He could have gotten out after the war, had he wanted to. With his education and experience, he could have joined a major airline and flown his entire life. Instead, he choose to stay and protect his country.
He was a hero. He was a hero in his early life, saving tons of people in WWII and Korea. Flying in and out of war zones for years on end, never being afraid of anything. He was a hero later to the people he helped in his second career after he retired from the Air Force.
He was my hero too. He was my Grandfather. He’s been gone three years and two months and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him in some way. Today though? I remember what he did for his country. I remember what he, my other grandfather and many, many others do every day for their country. They put us before themselves.
Today is a day to remember our veterans. The ones here, the ones who are gone. They all deserve to be remembered.
The days go by faster. Sunlight dwindles. Night comes earlier. It’s completely dark before I am able to pick up my kids. Monday night two of mine asked me why I was picking them up at bedtime. Night at 5pm is an adjustment for us all.
The gorgeous leaves have all fallen away and left brown in it’s place. Brown grass, brown trees. Winter. Winter is here.
My mother tries to convince me that it’s still technically fall. She’s technically correct. Yet, winter is here.
I feel it in my bones. The cold is already hard to take. The dark is already hard to take. It may be a long six months. Today was the first day in months where I really could have just hidden in bed all day. I didn’t, but I could have. I wanted to.
The child abuse case everyone is talking about non-stop sits badly with me. I have to turn it all off. I can’t listen. I can’t engage. I can’t…I just can’t.
Winter. Yep. It’s here.
Tomorrow I may do something else that scares me.*maybe*
Why you may wonder? Because I’m a masochist. Okay…maybe not. The lovely Undomestic Diva put out a challenge that she’s calling the Operation Eleanor. The goal I guess is to do 30 things this month that make you uncomfortable. Small things, big things…it doesn’t really matter. Something that you’d look back and regret not doing.
While there is absolutly no way I will do thirty things that scare me (Hi, I’m a wuss) I’d like to try to do a few.
Today was a big one for me. I signed Morgan up for camp next summer. Sleep away camp. Two weeks long sleep away camp. Fourteen days and nights away from me, her dad, her siblings or any other family.
I’m shaking right now. I really am. I wanted to maybe somehow miss the deadline. I wanted to throw away the pamphlet and forget about camp. I wanted to tell her I think she is too young. That ten will be too little to go away that long. That maybe she can go when she’s…I don’t know, twenty-five?
Really though? It’s my issue. I can’t and really, I flat out refuse to put my issues on my children more than I already am. So I signed her up.
Somehow between now and the end of July, 2012, I have to figure out how to trust human beings I don’t know with my daughter. I have to trust that they will protect her. That they will keep her from harm. I’m not worried about her hurting herself. Nope, I’m worried about other things. Bad things. I can’t protect her forever, this I know. But dam I wish I could.
I may need a Xanax prescription for those two weeks next year. I may need to call and check on her every dang day. But she’s going and I know she’ll love it.
October wasn’t my month. That’s about the only way I can say it. October just plain wasn’t my month. I have high hopes for November. We’ll see if it cooperates.
Halloween was mostly a success. I spent some time at the girls school, which I never get to do. I made cupcakes, which I never do. We had dinner at their dad’s house and were gearing up for Trick or Treating, when Bailey got sick. So…I took her home and the other two had a blast. It’s all okay. Life you know? Things happen. Bailey is the kid who rolls with it most of the time. She woke up this morning to a bag of candy from her dad who went door to door for her, so she didn’t really miss out. I did Halloween well this year. I’m proud of that. Pumpkins. Crafts. Cupcakes. Costumes thought of in advance. I did Halloween right.
Morgan turns ten next month. (Lord help me.) I’ve ordered her the new Kindle Touch. I remember when I was the one who wanted and got the newest whatever. Those days seem to be gone. Now it’s me buying the newest gadgets for my kids. Lucky kids. Ten is special though. Ten deserves the newest gadgets. Ten will be celebrated well.
Holiday cups at Starbucks this morning. They made me happy. This month makes me happy. I’m ready for change and November tends to bring change.
This post was part of Heather’s Just Write.
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