Wife & Mother of the Others

So I woke up this morning to some sweet emails. Thank you ladies. I deleted the first comment that was made by this person who has gone to great lengths to hide their identity. Each of you asked what the original comment was pertaining to so I’ll sum up what I remember. I have a feeling I’ll be corrected if I misquote. Basically, this individual thinks I do not balance my love between my children fairly and it is blatantly obvious. Apparently they are aware of my other blog that IS FOR MY DAUGHTER. In their opinion, I make her to be a princess and dress her up like my “own personal babydoll” while on this blog I complain about and vilify my sons and glorifying my girls. This person feels sorry for my sons and thinks I’m a horrible mother, person, blah blah blah. Let me clarify one thing, not that I owe anyone an explanation, but if you are a reader of this blog and my daughter’s blog, you should know the reason I have her blog is to share with other VN adoption families. Many of us know each other personally as we’ve walked this together and it’s fun to watch each other’s children grow. I have this blog for me. ME! End of subject.

Well, I’m all for free speech, and I started to not only keep, but link to, a comment that was left on this blog just minutes ago. It was…well, I’m not going to repeat it, and I wish now that I hadn’t deleted it. But…whatever people.

Any of you who know me well know that I have a complete and total phobia of clowns. Yes, I said clowns, as in Bozo, Bobo, Homey, etc. I hate loath clowns. I want to scratch all the paint off their faces and rip their stupid wigs off their heads. I despise those evil things! I’ll never understand the fascination with, or how, they are deemed entertaining. urghhhh skin crawling, shiver… I think I could succeed at almost every challenge presented on the show Fear Factor, but for me to try and force myself to be calm in the presence of a clown, now that freaks me out. I almost wrecked my car one day because a stupid clown jumped from behind a tree on a sidewalk holding some advertising sign. Not funny.

A few years ago my family was fortunate enough to win tickets to the circus and have the privilege of riding around the rings (3 ring circus) on a zebra drawn carriage, whose coach was a friggin’ clown. I cannot tell you the amount of Xanax I was begging for. I felt nausious and was sweating like pig. Total.freak.out. The clown saw my uncomfortable jitters and actually tried to carry on a conversation with me. Not helping! It thought I was afraid to go in front of the crowd. Nope. Crowds, not my fear. Clowns. I actually had to tell the clown to “back the hell away from me”. That’s a pleasant memory for my kids; their big day at the circus and their mother about to brawl down with Bozo.

So, Nicki, if you’re reading this, I think I have the mother of all phobia incidences that even surpass your boys bloody tooth in your hand. Saturday, I went to have my youngest child’s photographs taken by a professional photographer who also goes to my church. Matter of fact she’s the wife of one of our pastors. We went to a beautiful park where there’s a wooden arched bridge over a sweet little stream and a quaint gazebo. It really is one of the more stunning parks in our area. So stunning that apparently one of the mega-churches here in town (that we refer to as Six Flags Over Jesus), which has it’s own production company, decided to shoot a movie there. On that same day, at the same time. A movie whose entire cast was comprised of nothing but clowns.

I didn’t see them at first. I was so into the photo shoot I didn’t realize what was happening behind me. Then, Baby Girl said, “look mommy, over there!”. I turned around and in my shock I yelled out F*ckHolySh*t! all in one word at the top of my lungs in front of the pastor’s wife. I didn’t even care. Didn’t care. Immediately the sweat started, the shaking started, and the jaws were clinched. I was frozen. I knew that I had to compose myself. I knew I didn’t want to freak out my daughter, who btw, LOVES clowns. I tried to explain to the photographer my fear and she thought I was joking. I was so not joking.

I have never in my life, even at the circus, seen so many of these vile things all in one place. They were all over the park, in every direction I tried to advert my gaze. And, of course, they were just so taken over my beautiful little girl posing so sweetly. Then she’d wave at them, and beckon me to look. So what do they do, they all come over to her. All of them. I tried to count them but it’s hard to do when you’ve got your eyes shut tight while repeating lalalalalalalalalala over and over in your head just trying to make the moment go away. I finally opened my eyes and there I was, in the middle of a ring made up of at least twenty clowns.

I started to cry. Like an idiot, I stood there with tears rolling down my cheeks trying as hard as I could to contain it. But I couldn’t. I wanted to start swinging at them but I just stood there so not to scare my child. At that point the photographer saw that I had not been joking and that I truly was having an problem. She politely moved us to another location much deeper in the park away from the clowns. My little girl never saw my issue thankfully. But for two days now all I’ve heard about are the clowns that came to “see me get pictures”.

I hope the pictures are beautiful, and I think they will be. But now, I just know, that every time I’ll look at one, it’ll remind me of clowns.

I started to put a picture of a clown at the top of the post, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I’m so happy! A person who I admire soooo much has new non-private blog. I’m hoping maybe soon she’ll password protect and post pics because her two girls from Vietnam…wow. If any of you have Vietnamese princesses, when you see the pics of her girls you’ll hope in your heart your girlies will grow up to have that kind of beauty. She runs a very popular business on the internet selling and making multi-cultural and personalized gifts that are especially great for trans-racial adoptions and families. She adopted her second girl as an older child and I’ve been stunned to see how wonderfully and how honest she’s been with the issues of older child adoption. Her non-private blog address is http://aodaisandbluejeans.wordpress.com go check her out!

On this post (click here) I talked about a lady pregnant with conjoined twins. Well they were born and died shortly after birth. The outpouring of love and support our community has poured out has been overwhelming. I don’t begin to speculate on the why this all happened, but one amazing outcome has been the number of lives effected and brought together. One thing for sure, these girls and their mother are truly loved.

Any of  you remember this post where I announced that my resolution for this year is to work on meekness? I had some really sweet comments and emails after that post. But honestly people, why didn’t you tell me to go get a syringe full of reality check, bend over, and shoot the full dose in my right cheek? This hasn’t been working out too well for me. I’ve worn a place on the inside of my cheek from the constant gnawing to keep my mouth shut. I can literally feel the tightness in my chest from not being able to relax. Everyone has the right to my opinion and apparently me not sharing my opinion, um maybe at times in a rude-ish manner, is causing my body physical harm. I won’t get started on the mass quantity of Goody’s medicine I ingest to try and control the stress headaches.

Top recent scenarios that have truly tested me:

• 18 wheeler flying up on my rear when I’m trying to get off at an exit. I try and motion I have a baby in my vehicle and to back off, I can’t speed up because there are cars in front of me, then he veers around me because the dumb ass isn’t getting off at the exit and he’s in the wrong lane, looks at me claps his hands together then deliberately tries to swerve his rig into my vehicle. My side of the vehicle which is the same side my baby is on. All because I was in the correct lane to exit and was *gasp* going the speed limit then slowing down to get off the interstate. I really thought my blood was boiling
• a situation in a business meeting where my personal business started being discussed. I was told “oh, I’ve told this to _________ too privately” but then all the sudden we’re talking about my stuff openly. Then this individual brings up my dad’s near death in the midst of it. On top of that this person audaciously tries to project their own experiences and abilities, or lack there of, in certain situations as if that person and I would have the same reactions.
• my aunt, who is an addict of anything addictable, is using my parents. My mom sees through it but it’s totally ticking me off. Their mother (my mom & aunt’s mother, my grandmother) died when they were children. My mom had two very special pieces of jewelry that had been handed down for generations. Aunt Hit the Pipe stole and pawned them. This week almost $1000 for an oral surgeon had to spent because her teeth are falling out. Yeah, the Meth look is so attractive. And since she’s a crackhead she’s unemployable and has no insurance. So the $1000 came out of my mom’s pocket. I have little-to-no sympathy there. Long family drama with her, years and years of trying to help her, she’s burned her bridges with me.
• my brothers (see here and here) …enough said
• redneck neighbors who keeps letting their now 20+ cats breed but refuse to take them to the vet for any care or vaccinations because feline leukemia is every kitty wants, right? and who instead of vet care put a cat in a pillow case and beat it to death with a bat because it was sick.

I have a really difficult time living up to what I know I should be in these situations. Meek, loving, patient, and all that other Christ-like stuff which is SO NOT my nature. Except for two of these incidences I’ve kept my mouth shut, chewed on my inner cheek, gotten a headache, tensed up to the point of chest pain, etc. I called the cops on the trucker and gave his tag and truck number. I don’t know if it did any good but I was a rat and it made me feel like maybe if he was pulled over some other motorists may be safer. I’ve called our local cat rescue and animal control about the abuse of the cats. I just can’t keep my mouth shut about that. And I’ve been close to altercations with those rednecks because of the treatment of the animals. And I’m not even a cat person. The rest of it…prayer, lots and lots and lots of prayer. And Goody’s headache powder.