All By Myself

This song pretty much sums up how I felt shortly after I came home from the hospital.

All By Myself

Eric Carmen

When I was young
I never needed anyone
And makin' love was just for fun
Those days are gone

Livin' alone
I think of all the friends I've known
But when I dial the telephone
Nobody's home

All by myself
Don't wanna be, all by myself anymore
All by myself
Don't wanna live, all by myself anymore

Hard to be sure
Some times I feel so insecure
And love so distant and obscure
Remains the cure

All by myself
Don't wanna be, all by myself anymore
All by myself
Don't wanna live, all by myself anymore

When I was young
I never needed anyone
And makin' love was just for fun
Those days are gone

All by myself
Don't wanna be, all by myself anymore
All by myself
Don't wanna live, all by myself anymore

All by myself
Don't wanna be, all by myself anymore

An Emotional Week

Last week was a very emotional week.  I wasn't eating or sleeping much, my First Daughter's upcoming birthday wasn't the whole reason. Back in November 2009 there was a murder where my Daughter I am raising was having a tennis class.  This murder was upsetting to everyone in our community because this has never happened before.  It is more upsetting to me because I was one of the people who went to help this young man.  One Mom on the phone with 911, one Mom watching for the Ambulance who saw more than I did, I was doing first aid and checking for signs of life, the Tennis Coach did CPR and another Mom who ran up later to help watch for the Ambulance.

This park held many years of happy memories for me and this park is right behind the Middle School where my daughter will be starting school this fall.  For me it was too close to home!

Two days after the murder I found out who the victim was and I found out how old he was...he was four months and two days older than my First Daughter.  Every since then it became more personal to me...what if that was my First Daughter?  I don't know why I kept thinking that, maybe because a Mother lost her son that night.  Or maybe it was the realization that something could happen to my First Daughter and I would never be told.

The trial started last Monday.  Even though I did not see the murder take place I was brought in as a witness, I guess to "paint a picture" and make the victim a human being.  Needless to say, I was a wreck!  Not much sleep and jumpy!

Strange things were happening last week.  A friend of mine was called in for jury duty for this trial and he was dismissed before he had the chance to tell them he knew a witness.

I found out my sister use to work for the Defense Attorney 11 years ago.  I very emotional on the stand, but I was able to get the Defense Attorney to back off by telling him I was there to save a life, not focus on evidence.

I did get to meet the victim's family after I testified, my heart went out to the Mother.  On Thursday I went back to hear closing arguments.  One of the victim's family members looked familiar to me, turns out we use to work together 6 years ago.  Small world!

On Friday less than 24 hours after the judge charged the Jury the Judge announced a mistrial because the jury was hung.  My heart sank.  This isn't over.

Saturday was my First Daughter's birthday.  I was looking forward to going into work to be distracted so I could make it through the day.  I was quickly confined to our break room for a couple of hours and I didn't have any clients on my books.  Later I find out there was a client there talking about the trial and how one of the guys who participated in the fight that led to the murder was her next door neighbor.  She kept talking about how violent this kid was and how she had been calling the police on him for the last 8 years.

On Sunday, for some strange reason, I looked up where the Defendant lived.  He lives 5 minutes walking distance from me!  Great, hopefully the Defendant will be too busy celebrating the mistrial and not check to see if there is a witness living close by.

I guess now I am "decompressing"...waiting to hear about a retrial and waiting for some sign from my First Daughter.

Happy 23rd Birthday

It has been 23 years since I last held you in my arms.  The brief time we spent together I have always carried in my heart.  Memories of counting your fingers and toes, feeding you, cradling you in my arms, feeling your breath on my neck, your big beautiful eyes looking back at me, these memories are still vivid after all of these years.   Our last day together I hoped that you would always know deep down inside your heart how much love I have for you.

There are so many things I want to tell you, so many questions I want to ask, but unfortunately it is very difficult for me to pour my heart out on paper (or on a computer screen).  Writing doesn’t show the personality, the animation, the light in the eyes, the laughter or the tears I shed as I try to write this. There are so many colorful stories to be told, my story, your family's stories, past and present...stories I don’t know if you are interested in hearing or even knowing. 

I do hope one day you will come back into my life where you will always be welcomed with opened arms.  You have always been in my heart and you were never forgotten.  

Voice Inside My Head

Tomorrow will be my First Daughter's 23rd Birthday.

Voice Inside My Head

Dixie Chicks

I was only a kid

When I said goodbye to you

Ten summers ago

But it feels like yesterday

Lost, scared and alone

Nothing I could give to you

I tried, I really did

But I couldn't find another way

And I want and I need

Somehow to believe

In the choice I made

Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head

Saying you should be with me instead

Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder

What would it be like with you around

So I, I made my way

Cold and roaming in the wild

I'm forever changed

By someone I never knew

Now I've, I've got a place

I've got a husband and a child

But I'll never forget

What I've given up in you

And I want, I need

Somehow to believe

In the choice I made

Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head

Saying you should be with me instead

Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder

What would it be like with you around

And I want, I need

Somehow to believe

In the choice I made

Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head

Saying you should be with me instead

Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder

What would it be like with you around

What would it be like with you around

What would it be like with you around

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

I absolutely adored Cyndi Lauper!!  She inspired me to be "so unusual" and not be like anyone else.  I thought Girls Just Want To Have Fun was an appropriate song for this week, maybe I'm still thrilled about the Girls Night Out we had.

Girls Just Want To Have Fun
Cyndi Lauper

I come home in the morning light
My mother says when you gonna live your life right
Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones
And girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun

The phone rings in the middle of the night
My father yells what you gonna do with your life
Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one
But girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have -

That's all they really want
Some fun
When the working day is done
Girls - they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I want to be the one to walk in the sun
Oh girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have

That's all they really want
Some fun
When the working day is done
Girls - they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun,
They want to have fun,
They want to have fun....

Another Random Memory

The week before my First Daughter was born my Mother went to Hawaii with her boyfriend for the week.  My Grandmother had to stay with us because my Mother was afraid we would throw a party or something.  Did she not realize that I was no condition to throw a party?  Anyway, Gran'ma was with us for the week.

There was a knock on the door, I waddled over to answer it.  At first I didn't recognize the person standing there, it was my Birthfather.  It was about 4 months since my sister and I last saw him and he had lost a lot of weight.  I let him him, my Gran'ma was on the couch (her leg was in a cast from breaking it the month before) and she was surprised.  Gran'ma was practically drooling!  Telling my Birthfather that he looked hot, then she started telling my sister and I about how good-looking she thought our Birthfather was before he married his second wife.  My sister and I were completely grossed out!!  Ewwww....Gran'ma had the hots for my Birthfather.

I knew why Birthfather was there, the weight loss, the new car and the urge to go shopping told me everything I need to know.  He and my Stepmom had separated for the hundredth time, it was the same story...they split up, BF loses the weight he gained from eating Stepmom's food, buys a new sports car, and he tries to make up for lost time by taking my sister and I shopping.  Well, we might as well enjoy it while we can because we both know they will be back together again soon.

BF noticed I had worn out my Keds.  I loved my Keds and now I could wear them without socks because I had ankles!!  We walked through mall to a shoe store and there my BF bought me 3 new pairs of Keds...white, black and navy.  My swollen feet were happy.  As we went shopping I had to endure my BF's bad pregnancy jokes...I'd be a tennis ball if I was wearing yellow and didn't shave my legs, I'd be a bowling ball if I was wearing black, etc.  I knew him well enough to know these bad jokes were keeping BF from breaking down in tears, I don't know if the tears would be from me being pregnant, his separation, or the fact that he had been a crappy Father to us since he married my stepmom 10 years ago.  While we were listening and half-hearted laughing at his bad jokes my sister and I were also grossing out over the girls my age checking out my BF...Ewwww!!!!

I was dying for a Banana Split, so after shopping he took my sister and I over to Braum's.  Thankfully, it was quiet in there and the jokes stopped and there were no girls in there checking out BF.  I inhaled my Banana Split while BF would tell my little sister stories about when we were little and he would bring us here.  Afterwards BF dropped us off at the little apartment we were now living in.  We were glad to be back home.  Unfortunately, we had to listen to Gran'ma carry on all evening about how hot she thought BF was and how it must be the Choctaw in him that made him so good looking.  My Sister and I made gagging faces for the rest of the night while our cousin would laugh telling Gran'ma she was a sick woman for thinking that way about her ex-son-in-law.

Is this some kind of sign??

They say curiosity killed the cat...well, curiosity is driving me up the wall like there is no tomorrow!!

Back in 2006 I received tons of info about my First Daughter and her adoptive family.  I knew the neighborhood she grew up in...it wasn't too far from where I grew up.  She even went to school in the same school district as me and my mother!! 

Okay, so now you get the idea how close to one another we have always been.

Driving down the major roads close to my First Daughter's neighborhood has been something I have always done, even before I knew she was living there.  After I found out where she lived I was a little nervous about driving the roads have taken for years until one day I decided that was silly of me.  I never drove down her street and I never went to see her house...so why should I stop taking the roads I had been driving down since 1986?

Okay, so now you know I have always respected the invisible boundaries.

Yesterday I was driving home, going my normal predictable way.  I end up behind this brand new truck.  I look at the back window for some weird reason and my eyes 'bout popped out of my head and my mouth dropped open.  In the back window was this big company sticker for this construction company.  I couldn't believe it!!  My heart almost jumped out of my chest.  I know I must have crossed paths with my First Daughter in the past and not even realized it, but for the first time in almost 23 years here it was right in front me screaming "Look at me!  Look at me!"

Guessing it was the Adoptive Dad I became really curious.  I was told by a friend of my First Daughter's that we look just alike (except for our chin and eye color) and had the same profile, so I knew I had to be quick about this. I got into the left lane and sped up a little bit, I stayed there just long enough to see who was driving out of the corner of my eye.  To my surprise it looked like it was the Adoptive Mom.  She looked to be about my size and she looked too tiny to be driving such a big truck!!  (I guess this is the reaction I get from people when I drive my husband's full size pick up truck.)  I get my quick peek and I speed up, she suddenly gets behind me and turns left into a Staples parking lot, for a brief second I thought about turning around, but I didn't.

I couldn't believe what just happened so I tried to call my sister to tell her (I had to call someone so I wouldn't turn around) my sister never picked up.  I pulled into a parking lot...across the street from the hospital I delivered her in...and called my Mom.  My Mom couldn't believe it, she said is was God's plan.  I kept asking her what that was suppose to mean and she told me we weren't supposed to know, but she thinks something is going to happen.  Mom did ask if I turned around to follow her and I told her I thought about it and didn't.  She asked why I didn't and I told her I had a huge pimple on my face!!  My Mom laughed and said "Thank God for vanity".  After I got off the phone with Mom I sent a text to all of my friends to let them know, I figured that was the quickest way for me to spread this crazy news.

Later last night I pulled up the website for the construction company.  They apparently moved their location recently and they opened a second location.  I know this is "whatever" information, but it was the second location that made my mouth drop open again!!  The second location is about 15 minutes from my Mom's property out in the country!!  Again I called Mom, told her what I found, she told me that was really interesting and she started to laugh.  I asked her what was so funny.  She asked if I remembered that tornado that went through her property a couple of months ago that tore up some of her barns, I told her I did.  She said my Stepdaddy went to that company to drop off all the torn up metal for them to recycle.  I couldn't believe it!!  I asked her if Stepdaddy remembered who he talked to, she asked and he couldn't remember.  This was getting crazy!!  Mom laughed again and told me it was God's plan, this was suppose to happen.

What is all of this suppose to mean?  My First Daughter's birthday is 15 days away, I know this murder trial I have to be a witness for is happening the week of her birthday, I believe it's to keep me distracted.  Why on earth would I be driving behind the Adoptive Mom now?  Why would they open a second location out in this little country town where my Mom and Stepdaddy live?  Why would my Stepdaddy feel the need to take the torn up metal there?  Does anyone have a clue as to what all of this means???

I'm kind of curious to see what the next 15 days might bring!!

Pictures of You

I have always loved "The Cure".  The song Pictures of You came on recently...I thought it was appropriate for the "Picture on my nightstand" blog...well most of the song at least.

Pictures of You

The Cure

I've been looking so long at these pictures of
you that I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you that
I almost believe that the pictures are all I can
feel

Remembering you standing quiet in the rain as
I ran to your heart to be near
And we kissed as the sky fell in holding you close 
how I always held close in your fear

Remembering you running soft through the night
You were bigger and brighter and whiter than snow
Screamed at the make-believe screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage to let it all go

Remembering you fallen into my arms
Crying for the death of your heart
You were stone white so delicate
lost in the cold
You were always so lost in the dark 

Remembering you
How you used to be so drowned you were
Angels so much more than everything
oh hold for the last time then slip away quietly
Open my eyes but i never see anything

If only I had thought of the right words 
I couldhave held on to your heart
If only I'd thought of the right words 
I wouldn't be breaking apart all my pictures of you

Looking so long at these pictures of you 
but I never hold on to your heart
Looking so long for the words to be true 
but always just breaking apart my pictures of you

There was nothing in the world 
that I ever wanted more
Than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world 
that I ever wanted more
Than to never feel the breaking apart
My pictures of you

Picture on the Nightstand

The Counselor told me I could have pictures of my baby if I wanted.  I would only be allowed to have the pictures taken during the 6 weeks my precious baby would be with the Agency's Foster Mother until the Adoption was finalized.  I didn't know I was allowed to even ask for such things, pictures were never mentioned.  I jumped on the picture offer like there was no tomorrow.

Sometime in September of 1988 I received a envelope with snapshots taken of my sweet, precious baby.  I held onto those pictures for dear life, nothing was going to separate me from them.  For two years I carried them with me in my purse, I was afraid if I left them at home the house would burn down or the house would get robbed and my pictures would be gone.  At least being in my purse I felt they were safer, no one was going to take my purse without a fight.

When "Ashley" was about two years old I finally broke down and bought a little frame.  I chose the picture that was taken up close so it was just her angelic face and big, beautiful dark blue eyes.  The picture was a little dark, almost like it was taken at night or early morning.  At the time the darkness of the picture represented how dark my life seemed without her.  This picture sat on my nightstand every since.

Sometimes I would pick up the picture and touch her little round cheek, sometimes I would cry, sometimes I would tell the picture I miss you and I love you.  There were times I'd wake up in the morning hugging that frame.  Every year on her birthday you would find me at some point holding onto the picture for dear life, I might be crying, I might be talking to it, I might be begging the picture to make contact with me.  It was bittersweet having that picture on my nightstand.

On my First Daughter's 18th Birthday I had copies made of the pictures I was given years ago.  A girlfriend of mine had suggested I make a scrapbook for her.  This is what I did, my girlfriend helped me get it started.  The first part of the scrapbook held the pictures of her, my hospital bracelets and little stories about our brief time together.  The second part were pictures of her Birthfather and I and little (positive) stories about our relationship.  The third part included pictures of me growing up and little bit about my childhood.  The fourth part was her Birthfather.  For some reason I still had his pictures from when he was a child, maybe this scrapbook was the reason.  Her Birthfather refused to tell me anything for this scrapbook, he kept saying "It's none of her F***ing business", I told him he had no right to deny her the history of where she comes from, so I put in what I could remember.  Then I added pictures I had of my Birthfather with his story, then my Mother and her story and my Paternal grandparents and great grandparents and their stories...and that is where I stopped...for now.

So much time and energy went into this scrapbook, I wanted it to be something special for her, I wanted her to have pictures and stories so she could see pieces of her...I wanted her to know her story.  The scrapbook still sits in my house, waiting, waiting to be completed, waiting for her...

Random Memory

Never fails...every July I seem to remember some little detail that doesn't cross my mind the rest of the year. 

Friday, July 22, 1988.  My boss "Ava" said I was looking tired and she wanted me to start coming in at noon tomorrow.  I was tired.  Before I was pregnant I stood a whole whopping 5'1" and 93 lbs dripping wet.  Here I was looking like I was carrying twins because my body was so small the baby had nowhere to go but out and my legs were tired and swollen.  "Ava" handed me a huge bag of Kolaches her mother had sent home with her when she went to visit them.  These Kolaches weren't the little sausages wrapped in dough, oh no, these were were the real things...sweet, delicious, fruit topped pastries made by a Czech woman.  These things were pure heaven!!

I got home and changed clothes.  My boyfriend canceled our date (which seems to be happening more and more lately) and he promised we would go out the next night.  My younger sister left that morning for a mission trip in Biloxi, Mississippi.  My cousin who was a year younger than me and living with us was at work.  My Mom was off somewhere, who knows where.  We left my Adoptive Father the summer before and moved into these apartments.  The apartments were decent, I felt somewhat safe there.  There was a boy named "Johnny" who lived in our apartments, he was a little younger than me and he ran around with my sister, he loved to give her grief...maybe that was why I thought of him as my little brother :-)

"Johnny" came by, he didn't know what to do since he didn't have my sister around to bug.  I took my Kolaches and my nail polish caboodle (remember Caboodles?) and went outside with him.  He was watching me struggle trying to get the old nail polish off my toes while he was eating the Kolaches.  I had trouble reaching my toes with my huge belly in the way.  He giggled and said he would do it for me, he had older sisters so he knew how to paint toes.  I let him since I was too hot, tired, and uncomfortable to do it.

I don't remember much of our conversation that evening.  I do remember saying I couldn't wait to see my toes again.  I feel a little bad about saying that, I didn't want my time with my baby to be over with, I just wanted to see my toes again...my Estee Lauder Hibiscus Pink toes.

17 days until her 23rd birthday...

Horrified

My boyfriend and I were together since September 1985.  I adored him, I thought he hung the moon.  After we started dating he brought me around to meet his family.  His Mom, "Joyce", was wonderful to me, I thought of her as a Mom since mine was too busy with her own life to pay any attention to me.  "Joyce" was good to me, we were close.

In April 1988 I told "Joyce" I was pregnant.  She cried then she started making plans for where the baby and I would live since we both knew my Mom would kick me out if I kept the baby.  She was going on about how I could live in the seedy government housing and how I would have to apply for government assistance and she and her Mother would help me support the baby.  I couldn't believe what I was hearing...I wasn't raised to accept "hand-outs" and she looked down on people who were on welfare.  I couldn't get past living in the apartments she was expecting me to go to...those apartments terrified me!!  Someone was getting shot, raped, and/or murdered over there...I didn't want my baby and I to live in fear.

It was June 1988.  "Joyce" wanted to go with me to the "Agency", she wanted to see for herself what they were saying to me so she could try to undo the damage they were doing.  I knew this was her intention from the beginning, I wanted her to help me figure out a way to keep my baby without having to move into that awful apartment complex.  I saw a side of "Joyce" that day I never knew existed....

This meeting started out as normal.  The Counselor and "Joyce" talked, the Counselor got some basic background info from her and "Joyce" asked questions and got the same answers I got, I sat in a chair next to "Joyce".  The Counselor explained it was a closed adoption because open adoptions were too confusing and just didn't work.  She talked about the parents who were "next in line" for a baby.  "Joyce" asked about the religious upbringing, the Counselor looked a little confused, I was a little confused.  Didn't she notice the huge sign on the building saying Jewish Family Services?  Granted, I was young and naive, but even I knew my baby was going to a Jewish Family.

I was Methodist, my best friend in elementary school who lived across the street from me was Jewish.  There wasn't a thing wrong with them.  My friend's Mother always had warm hugs for me, she treated me like I was one of her kids, every morning when I walked over there before school to get my friend she would always tell me I was too skinny and I needed to get inside and eat.  I use to go to Temple with them until my Adoptive Father put a stop to it.  So I never saw a problem with my baby being raised in a Jewish Family, as long as the family was warm and loving like my friend's family.  (It was years later when I realized that when my First Daughter came around we would always have Christmas)

When the Counselor said the child would be raised Jewish the shit hit the fan!  I saw a side to "Joyce" I never knew existed.  This woman was so full of hatred, the things coming out of her mouth were horrible!!  I was honestly scared for me and my baby.

You can tell in the 20+ years the Counselor has been brainwashing unwed Mothers she had never come across this in her own office.  The look on her face scared me even more.  I wanted to run out that door and keep running.  The Counselor's response wasn't what I expected...she didn't have on her "Counselor Hat".  She very calmly and firmly told "Joyce" off, to sum it up she told her she was nothing but a piece of ignorant, racist trash (she doesn't use those words exactly).  The Counselor was scared for me, she wasn't afraid that I wouldn't relinquish my baby, she was afraid of what "Joyce" would do to me.

"Joyce" was escorted off of the property, the Agency's driver brought me home.  I was in shock. I had never run across anyone with so much hatred in their heart.  My boyfriend and I decided it was best that we kept his Mother as far away from me as possible.  

At the end of August 1988 I told her I had the baby in July.  She went into a panic and started calling attorney's to see what she could do.  They all said the same thing...she had no legal right.  

Things were definately different between us after that.  The way she acted you would have thought I handed my baby over to a Satanic Cult.  So as the years pass on and my First Daughter gets older I get anxious, almost fearful...she has no clue that her paternal grandmother would turn her back on her because she is Jewish.  My First Daughter also doesn't know what I had to endure to protect her from the most hateful bigot I have ever met in my entire life.

A little ADD/OCD can be a good thing

I was thinking about the post I did the other night...the ADD/OCD thing and few nights ago my husband commenting about how I need to relax a little.  So it got me thinking...

How is a Mother suppose to behave when she loses her child to adoption?  What is she suppose to do when she realizes she was manipulated and believed the lies she was told for so many years?  Hell yeah, I'm going to be a little skitzy and have to maintain some sense of control about myself.  I'm not some animal that doesn't care that her first child is out there somewhere.  I've been called many things in the last 23 years and I have worn that scarlet letter on my chest...like Hester Prim in The Scarlet Letter.  This is what our society has done to First Mothers, we are treated like trash so the "Baby Brokers" can make their profits and families can be torn apart.

Maybe it's just me, but no Mother should be separated from their child so an "Agency" can profit, it's really a legalized form of baby selling.  The "Agencies" swoop in on unsuspecting, scared, and naive unwed Mothers, tell them stories about how they are "giving a gift to a couple who so desperately needs a child", then after delivery the Mother can pick up where she left off and continue life like nothing ever happened.  BULLSHIT!  

I'm not a baby factory, I'm not some cheap whore.  I'm a Mother who is worrying about her First Child, a Mother trying to figure out what I did that was so wrong to cause her First Child to not give a damn about the woman who has unconditionally loved her from conception.

18 days until her 23rd Birthday... *sigh*

Can't decide on which distraction to obsess over

My husband tells people I have ADD/OCD, I can't decide on which distraction to obsess over.  People seem to find the humor in this, but they don't realize how true this statement is about me.  What they don't know is that I need to focus in on a distraction (I prefer positive distractions) so I don't go crazy trying to figure out why my First Daughter still wants nothing to do with me.

So far this summer has been filled with all kinds of distractions I would honestly wish to go away, especially right now.  Every July I seem to be on edge, sometimes I just start crying for what people think is for no reason.  What some don't know is that my First Daughter's birthday is on July 23rd, this year she will be 23 years old.  23 years of trying to cope with losing a child to adoption.

The Murder Trial I was suppose to be a witness for has been postponed to July 18th.  Great...just what I needed added to my plate the week of my First Daughter's birthday.  This is starting to get a little annoying for me.  Not only am I remembering the vivid details surrounding the birth of "Ashley" and our time spent together in the hospital, but I am also remembering vivid details of this murder.  You would think this trial would be enough to distract me...but no...I am a master at juggling things!  *Sigh*

My youngest daughter is currently spending two weeks in Florida with the Grandparents.  My In-laws believe children should be seen and not heard. I think this visit has been quite an eye opener for them (and my little one).  They have now realized that we are raising this 12 year old to speak up and not let people walk all over her.  She'll be home in two days...I think we will all be glad when she's back home.

While my youngest is in Florida my husband and I finally had enough of my daughter's synchronized ice skating coach.  We pulled our daughter off the team.  Now I'm dealing with 8 other Mom's bitching at me because we questioned the coach's abilities.  Seriously?  Everyone of them bitched and complained behind the coach's back, but when someone says something they freak out and turn on the person who wasn't a chicken shit and actually said enough was enough.  Right now I'm very confused, why would parents teach their children to talk behind people's backs and then be a chicken shit towards the person who stands up?  Younger Daughter doesn't know about this yet, we are waiting to tell her when she gets home.  She'll be upset that we are not going to San Diego for the State Games of America, but she will be relieved.  Her private coach has already told her that she wanted her on the Intermediate Synchronized Skate Team.

So I have all of this going on...the same time I am trying to cope with the fact that my First Daughter will be turning 23 in 20 days and so far she doesn't give a crap about me, her First Mother.

Hurry up and be done with July!!!