Make Lemonade (or get OFF me!)

I am sorry for whatever tragedy or disappointment has befallen you and or your family. I probably didn't know about your crisis when it happened. Heaven knows, I am left out of the loop unless I read about whatever happened online. So, if I did anything offensive, it was not intended. Life sucks, I am very aware. Now - GET OFF ME!
I have had my share of tragedies, and I have been there and felt your pain. The last thing I would ever do is purposely add the "F" to it! I had a miscarriage at 20 weeks and if I wasn't devastated enough by that, my in-laws gave me SH!T about how the fetus was probably severely disabled and how we wouldn't have wanted that. At 20 weeks, I was already in love with that baby and I grieved sorely. It hurt my husband even more, because he has developmental disabilities and was one of those babies we "wouldn't" have wanted. Talk about insensitive. Even more, the one telling us how hard it would be was mother to an autistic son, one of those babies, should I have asked her if he shouldn't have been born. Darren was precious gift. I will never forget him putting on his hat & shades and doing his best imitation of Elton John singing "Daniel" and pretending to play piano. Oh, Darren, you were like "Daniel" in that "your eyes see more than mine". I am so grateful to have known him. He was one of the few in-laws that accepted me unequivocally.
When Ralph and I married, I had undergone an evaluation at the local sheltered workshop because of physical disability, binaural hearing loss. His family ASSUMED since he knew me from there, that I was similarly disabled and they would end up taking care of me also. They never gave Ralph any credit for being a man, and being capable of being a husband and father. I am not saying our lives together were without challenges. Lord knows, there have been lots of roadblocks and oceans of tears. But there was even more sweetness and love and we had beautiful Juli. She came in the wake of the tragedy of that miscarriage.
She was hard fought for and won at a GREAT price. I had obstacle after obstacle to not only her survival, but mine as well. First was bleeding and fear of miscarriage at 10 weeks. That was first of five ultrasounds. I was put on bedrest at ten weeks because of placenta previa, which was not commonly known then, in hopes the placenta would grow up and away from th cervix as the baby grows. Well, on the heels of that came gestational diabetes, followed closely by preeclampsia. I was hospitalized at what by original calculations was just over 33 weeks, shortly after my first anniversary. Our baby shower was on that day, and on the way home, we came up on a devastating looking accident that was my stepsister's car in which she and my mother were heading home. Juli was born, according to ob/gyn/surgeon four weeks early, six weeks by my gp's calculations, and 8 weeks according to the neonatologist. She was taken c-section after the 3 tests done by amnio showed 1. her lungs WERE ready, 2. they were NOT ready, or 3 unsure. She was on oxygen first day of her life, and umbilical iv for five days, and uv lights for bilirubin for two more days. During this time my c-section staples were removed, my dad died, I went to the calling, spiked a fever and woke to a seeping open wound that my mother said looked like raw hamburger. Only a thin area of muscle had started healing enough that it kept me from being eviscerated. I was readmitted on day six of Juli's life, she went home on day seven and I finally got to join her on day eight. And I found out afterward, she suffered having her little heels stabbed every two hours to draw blood to check her glucose, calcium and bilirubin levels that whole first week of her life. I was also devastated that my most evil sister-in-law that was a former employee of the hospital was allowed to hold my daughter not only before my husband did, but before I even knew for sure she had survived. My family, out of respect for me, waited until after I had seen her and held her.
We had originally wanted three children. Upon finding out that the c-section separating would likely recur, and there was a strong possibility of mortality, we decided to be grateful for our Juli and not try for more children. So between the miscarriage and all the complications involved in Juli & I surviving her arrival, we chose to cherish the precious gift we got in her with no regrets. Apparently my reproductive capabilities were a lemon, so I made lemonade, and poured all my efforts into raising my beautiful daughter and letting her know how special she was. She said when she was only 8 that God had special plans for her.
Her life so far has been frought with obstacles. She had Respiratory Syncictial Virus (RSV) at three months, and by age one and a half was on meds for asthma. By age three, she had urinary blockage and endured scary, painful tests to resolve that. At eight, she began having juvenile migraines and we first encountered cysts that would turn out to be Hidradenitis Supprativa Acne Inversa, a very painful, little known condition with no cure.
My in-laws, when my life was in turmoil from losing a second daddy, my stepfather of 17 years, decided that when my housekeeping was out of control, to turn me in to welfare because cobwebs and clutter could be hazardous to Juli's health. The stress from fear of being taken away from her daddy and me, caused way more problems with her asthma than dust and cobwebs ever could. They did this at the time I was most overwhelmed, because not only had we lost daddy, momma was rapidly deteriorating healthwise. I had also begun living with type two diabetes at that time. The aunts that called welfare, took great delight in telling Juli that if she didn't pick up her toys, they would take her away. Nice aunts, huh?
Then when Momma went through congestive heart failure, we got a rare and precious gift of an extra year and a half to love her. She lost her left leg above the knee five months later, but we managed to bring her home again. During all of this, not only were we dealing with this, but my brother was in and out of jail for various drug related charges and his wife left him. He ended up staying with momma until his schizophrenia got the best of him and he tried to choke her and she nearly bled out from an ulcer that developed from his treatment of her. I was trying to keep her house and my own complying with welfare, handling her, Juli's, Ralph's, Michael's and my own health problems. My in-laws answer was not to offer any real help, they called welfare yet again.
May of 1998, the 6th to be exact, Momma left us. She and I had been best friends, much like Juli and I are now and I know people worried how I would cope with her loss. My wonderful sister-in-law's solution, tell six year old Juli, that just lost her beloved Grandma"Creepy" (she couldn't pronounce Streby), not to cry because Mommy might go crazy and she'd lose her too! "Isn't that just kick you in the crotch, spit down your neck fantastic?" (friends quote) Juli didn't cry for a whole year! My poor baby, to be told she had to be responsible for her mother's mental health?!
Few years later, we were finally doing fairly decent and decided to try for the first time homebuyer's program offered through the USDA. We were less than ninety days from closing when the factory where Ralph worked decided to ship their operations overseas and we had to pull out of the contract. For over a year, Ralph worked with a job placement coach trying to get another job. We had applied to ss disability for him because all his jobs had been supported employment with special accomodations to allow him to work. He was not considered to be substantially working, because he needed support to perform the jobs. He was hired for another factory job, and had a job retention coach that went above and beyond, so we applied to Habitat for Humanity. We were much of the way through the build when he again lost his job, this time despite having full support of a job coach. Even though two and a half years had passed since he applied for disability it was finally approved. Once again, we lost the opportunity for a house because our income went below the level for Habitat. I had applied for disability for myself because my ability to work was rapidly diminishing due to complications of diabetes. We were again trying for habitat, when I got the first and second denials, this time taking us out of our third attempt for a house and bringing our income down so low we dropped out of the habitat eligibility completely.
During the first habitat attempt, Ralph's health took some alarming downturns, including my in-laws "kidnapping" him and traumatizing our whole family. He had to go on insulin and thy decided that when during an argument I swatted him on the top of the head for pulling a bonehead stunt, that I was being abusive and wouldn't let us talk to him until I scheduled a psych eval for myself. Juli cried herself to sleep as did I. We got through all that. I was diagnosed as having bipolar II disorder and went on meds that basically made me catatonic because they were too strong.
While I was so out of it, my oh-so-sweet sister-in-law decided to once again throw us to the wolves and called welfare. Such love! I finally got my meds adjusted to where I was functional and I struggled on. I was now using a cane, early in the morning and late in the day, since my nerves no longer told my leg muscles consistently when I was standing. I would stand up and keep on going forward toward falling on my face. Or I would drop back. I had developed retinopathy in my eyes (leaking blood vessels and new vessel growth that can swelll retina and blur vision). I could no longer see clearly. I had been hard of hearing since age four due to nerve damage from fevers of 106 degrees. I grew up learning visually by necessity. I learned basic lipreading by osmosis. Hearing aids can help, but are limited. Losing my visual cues, caused me to isolate myself more from the world. Thankfully, the retinopathy is in remission at this time, and God willing, if I can get rigid control of the diabetes, may not recur. My neuropathies affect not only my legs, but my hands and arms all the way to the shoulder on my right (dominant) arm. The focal neuropathy causes so much pain in my hips, that I have to change positions frequently to alleviate it some. The autonomic neuropathy has caused acid reflux (gastroesophogeal reflux disease), irritable bowel/chronic constipation, and urinary incontinence. Meds help with these things, but only so much. I have no regular pain management. I ended up not being able to take typical bipolar meds, because I basically shut down on them, and instead use an anti depressant that has been found to help with neuropathic pain. I couldn't take the regulare neuropathy meds because they adversely affected my vision. I had to stop taking the only effective antidiabetic oral med because it caused my body to mimic congestive heart failure. Still I forge on.
Juli ended up bearing the brunt of responsibility for our household when I was so foggy from the bipolar meds and that breaks my heart every time I think about it. When I finally got under control, she was mentally exhausted and she was initially diagnosed as depressed. They tried her on a med, and it gave her suicidal feelings. On further evaluation, she was diagnosed as (just like her mommy) bipolar II disorder.
Ralph is fairly stable right now, just needs to get his a1c down, thank God. He is pretty much handling the household.
Juli had her second surgery for her HS and got MRSA afterwards. She had missed so much school that she had to retake junior year of high school, and is switching schools again.
I know that she too will emerge on the other side of all this as stronger, because she is after all, Martha Jessamine's granddaughter, and she too, will show 'em all!
OKAY- so life can suck, your heart can break, but like the song from Titanic, "My heart will go on". I grieve with you over your losses. If I said or did something that offended you, I am sorry and certainly didn't intend to. I've said that I am sorry.
I AM DONE! I know you hurt, but I will not EVER go back to being a victim for anyone! My mother stayed for 23 years with my father beating her on a daily basis, and even when the sheriff brought him back the shotgun he threatened her with after she snuck it out and took it to the sheriff's office, still she stayed. She woke up one day to me standing over her telling her I didn't know if she was dead or alive. She decided that day to stop being a victim. Today is my independence day. I am not responsible for your pain. I don't deserve to feel like I am. I owe no apology for a sin I did not commit. No more.
(You know who you are and I love you unequivocally. If you choose to cut off contact with me, so be it. I will miss you. We haven't spent much time together, sometimes families just don't get close. I am however not the cause of your grief. I hope when things settle, you will realize this, but if you don't, I won't come begging. I just ask that you not hurt my child. )
Life gives us LEMON situations and we have to really struggle to find our LEMONADE solutions. I, for one, am going to keep finding good in the LEMONs (they are good in Iced
Tea). This is me, moving forward. Good night!

Worst Christmas Ideas Ever...

Reindeer gems - definition: sterilized droppings that are coated for decorative use as ornaments, and now as jewelry.
Just what you always wanted, decorative feces to hang around your neck or on your tree! What's next? Maybe rabbit pellet bead necklaces and earrings? Feces, the gift that keeps on giving.
Several places over the past month have discussed worst gift ever ideas. I know that the morning show, Live with Regis & Kelly, had people sending in their worst Christmas gift ever memories.
I thought that coal was mean until I heard a woman relate how her boyfriend's mother gave her a package of ground beef and it was supposed to be a big deal!
Silly me, I thought getting sick was a bad gift for any occasion. My daughter got some very unwelcome birthday gifts. I related that getting exposed to chicken pox at one birthday, and head lice at another were pretty bad gifts. I guess I underestimated human nature and man's ability to torture each other.
So - people - what's the most humiliating or unwelcome/unwanted gift you've ever gotten? Tweet me, or update me on facebook. Help us all come down off our tryptophan highs from the turky and the sheer exuberance of the Christmas holiday. That way, when people have to go back to work, it won't be such a shock! Ho, ho, holy crud, what a downer!

One Year

It's 2:52 AM and I'm sat here in this worn down leather chair, steaming mug of coffee on the stand beside me, freezing rain pouring down outside, and 'Stronger' up as loud as it will go. I'm sat here thinking of you, Anita. Thinking of how much I miss you, how proud you'd be of your babies, and how much you loved it when Mallorie and I would dance to this song.
I miss you more than words could ever say, Anita. You changed my entire life and I am forever in gratitude to you. I can still hear your voice in my head and the way you'd call me 'Lil Gu'url'. Nobody else gets to call me that, not even my Mama. It's a rule.
Thanks for giving my mom a best friend, Anita. I know she really misses you - more than I do and that's a lot. She had Aunt Carla and her one friend that died when she was little, but I think you were her first real best friend. What was it you guys called each other? Sister-Friend. That's it. You guys were sister-friends. Kindred spirits. Thanks for giving my Mommy that.
I know Mallorie, Matt, & Mandy miss you. They're so amazing, you raised three beautiful and wonderful children, Anita. Mal will be nineteen Saturday and I wish more than anything that I could be up there to give her a hug and dance with her to stronger. Just like we used to do in the living room while you and mom laughed so hard tears came. I know you're looking over those babies of yours and you're smiling big.
It's Christmas day and I can't help but think of you. Not because it's the one year anniversary of your passing, but because you seemed like Christmas personafied to me. You were always so full of joy and there was always a smile on your face - even when things were going wrong.
Today, I'm gonna smile. I'm gonna tell your baby girl that I love her and that we'll always be best friends. Cause we're our momma's all over again - Sister Friends.

Love you lots, Anita.
Love,
Jules

Canada is the new Nigeria ... OR... the grinch

that stole our Christmas. Apparently the newest crop of scammers are Canadian nationals and their scam is just as evil as the Nigerian con artists'. I received what would appear to be a very exciting letter in the mail last week. It purported to be a letter from a sweepstakes agent for a Viacom intl. sweepstakes, one of many I entered pursuing the American Dream. Of course, being cynical after all these years of Nigerians wanting me to claim mysterious inheritances and Asians wanting me to be their US liaison, I checked it out. Usually, in my vast experience, if it appears too good to be true, it usually is. I first checked to see if a business by the name of North American Sweepstakes Agency (I know, NASA, right?) really existed in NYC, NY. It wasn't in the BBB database, so I called the local office to talk to a live agent. She researched the phone number I was to contact and told me the area code was for Canada. She said there was so much fraud coming from there, that the RCMP (Mounties) had a task force for attempted economical fraud crossing borders that they had a task force set up. She called the phone hotline phonebusters, but I went to the website mentioned in their phone system because it was expected to be such a long wait. I filled out the complaint form and am holding all the documentation in case they want it as well as a printed copy of the report I filed. I am planning on contacting Viacom Int'l. to let them know an agent of fraud was using their trademark and name. I hope these perpetrators get caught and prosecuted. I was savvy enough not to get snared by them, but they stole something intrinsic from us, our Christmas spirit and sense of wonder at Christmas time. They stole our hope and belief in miracles at Christmas. You can't put a price on hope. Please, if you get an "award" letter, check it out with the better business bureau or your bank or law enforcement agency. Especially if they insist you not share y0ur news with anyone "for your safety". If you are directed to deposit by atm only, RED FLAG! Your bank personnel will happily verify whether or not the check is drawn on a valid account so you won't get ripped off. Also, if the check looks off, be wary. The routing number was in the middle of the check instead of being the first 9 numbers in the bottom left corner as is standard in US banks. Oh, and the zip code on the check was an Arkansas zip code, but the address used the two letter code for Arizona! Real smart con artist, huh? Have a safe holiday, may it be ripoff free!

Mutant Lifeforms in MY (Shower) Space!

I definitely did NOT need my glasses to see that THING! I knew I was sharing space with arachnid type beings, the cobwebs were glaring evidence. I did not realize that they were either beings from outer space or mutated by proximity to my natural gas powered water heater! I blogged in the past about my feelings regarding the species. I avowed as how phobia was too singular to describe my emotions about the "s" word. I loathe the creatures beyond all reason. I suggested a new term to represent my feelings: arachnisogynist. I'm not sure if I'm expositing from the term misogynist correctly. Perhaps it should be misarachnithrope. Whatever. I was unaware that common brown house spiders or "Daddy Longlegs" could grow to those proportions. If I understand the typical life cycle, the females mate, devour the male, reproduce via egg sac, tend said sac, and die. I did not believe the species could live through multiple reproductions. My extent of spider research is the book, Charlotte's Web. Well, if that's the case, the behemoth being in my shower was the "Grandmommiest Daddy Longlegs" in existence on this planet. Perhaps I shouldn't be blogging about this in my own home. After all, who's to say that don't communicate telepathically and whether or not they can read human thoughts. Well, that's enough of that. So much for sleeping. Again. Ever!