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Tuesday Feels Like a Monday

Ally stayed home from school today. Just when I got over the crud, she appears to have come down with it, poor thing. She was coughing most of the night. I know this because she and Ashley slept on a mattress on the floor by my side of the bed. Her voice is nearly gone. I drove Ash to school this morning because neither one of us was moving too quickly and we missed the bus. She was fine with that because she'd prefer I drive her every day! Then I went for a little drive all by myself. I could do this because my nephews, Cameron and Cody are here spending a few days with us. It was nice. I turned on the CD player, listened to music and reveled in my solitude. I don't get much time alone and sometimes I simply crave it.

I went to Fred Myer's to pick up some juice and medicine for Allison. Unfortunately I forgot to bring my glasses with me. I couldn't really read the medicine boxes but bought one that said Dimeatapp cough and cold. I thought the box was a little small, but chalked it up to the fact that it was probably tablets or concentrated. I'd actually purchased INFANT medicine that came with an eye dropper. ::sigh:: Sometimes I amaze myself at my stupidity. I gave her the whole bottle, as it wasn't much. She's been napping now.

The kittens are growing at such a fast rate! They won't be a week old until tomorrow but they're already getting pudgy. Here's a picture of Uncle Daddy, keeping vigil outside our closet door just waiting for a chance to go in and see his babies.

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Here's one of the babies. The white one doesn't appear to be as white as first thought. It's more of a buff color and it's ears appear to be gray. Looks like there is some Siamese in the mix with that one.

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A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…



Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
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