Beach House Rules

BooHoo

The only mar to our otherwise super fun day came after we returned to the house from the beach. When we came home MIL was out and my husband was on a work phone call. I was running around like crazy getting everybody a turn in the shower and cleaning up all of the towels and clothes and getting the laundry going and getting everyone into clean clothes and everyone was starving so I was trying to get everyone clean and dressed so I could then make the lunches and cleaning up everything behind me as we went. Anyway, I had the oldest two waiting outside the front door when we first came in while I took the twins inside to the shower. When I first asked them to stay out front, my son went over to the open garage and got out his bike and started down the driveway with it. I was afraid he was going to go into the street with it and we don't allow them to ride bikes unsupervised so since I was at that moment running inside chasing down the wet and sandy twins I told him to get off the bike and come stand right at the front door with my daughter. Since the twins were sandy and wet and running inside all I was thinking about was getting inside with them and getting them into the bathroom and the older two being in a safe place to wait. My daughter's bike was up next to the front door left over from the last time that my husband had them out riding so I think my son was just trying to get his bike over there too. Anyway, I took the twins inside to get showers and then had my daughter come in and then my son in turn and then I was just totally preoccupied with the showers and cleaning and clothes and laundry and trying to get to the point where I could make lunches for the starving kids. Well, just as I was getting the laundry in and about to start on lunch, MIL came home and my son's bike was in the driveway. I had been way to busy to remember the bike, but it's never been a big 'no no' at any point in my life to leave a bike in the driveway and certainly at our last house we left the bikes in the driveway all the time because that is where we played so my kids don't recognize this as a bad thing. Well, I guess she came inside and asked him to move his bike and he told her that his mom told him to leave it there. Then she told him that regardless of what his mom told him she wanted him to come move his bike. He said no. (My impression of what transpired, although I was not present, is that he was not rude or confrontational about this refusal, he did not recognize the seriousness of what she was asking and was tired after coming back from the beach and was just being sort of negligent while watching cartoons - I will admit that my kids do not always jump with military precision when asked to do something but can tell by my tone of voice what is important and what is not. Since the woman never interacts with the child I'm pretty sure he had no clue what was going on here.) So then MIL took away his bike, I don't even know what she did with it but it's gone. She came in and told me that since she asked him twice to move it and he wouldn't she took it away "for good". And she gave me her standard lecture about how she doesn't like to interfere, but she "was pissed". I told my son to apologize to her for not doing as she asked, and I've talked to him about how we are living in her house and he must do whatever she asks him to do. I know that she is a very strict disciplinarian and does not think that I am strict enough nor punitive enough by far. So this was her way of showing me how it should be done, I guess. The most frustrating part of this is that she did not warn him that she would take away his bike if he did not come move it and she did not notify him that she had taken it away after she did it, she just told me. So he completely missed this lesson. When I told him that his grandmother had taken away his bike he completely did not understand what had happened. This is why I wish that she had come to me with this issue before enacting her punishment. I know that if I had said to him, "If you don't do what your grandmother asks you to do, she will take away your bike for good," he would have jumped up promptly. And he would have gotten the point that he needs to do what she asks him to do. Now, it would be best if he would have done it without a threat, but being in this new environment with rules he does not even know about and someone who does not regularly interact with him suddenly asking him to do something that counteracts what he thinks his mother told him to do (without being rude) and this being the very first disciplinary incident to arise in the four weeks that we have been here I think leaves enough latitude that the MIL could have come to me to deal with the situation as I saw fit. She may think I have lax discipline practices, but this child has never, ever been in the least little bit of trouble at school ever, he is a model of good behavior - MIL even said, "usually he's so amenable". If there were some urgent issue or if it were a recurrent issue I could see where she might see fit to discipline him on her own. But seeing how six weeks ago he fell asleep in his bed listening to the bloodhounds barking in the woods outside his house looking for his suicidal father, would you not think that his own grandmother would cut him a break?

BooDay

My first mobile day and I took all the kids to the beach this morning. Jumping waves, ogling the surfer boys, and soaking up rays definitely helped my mental state. We had a blast!

Late this afternoon we went over to my friend K's house. She makes pizza from scratch and it's wonderful. My husband has been working around the clock on his software project so I was afraid that he wouldn't be able to make it, but he was able to come so I was very pleased. My son and daughter are the same ages as her son and daughter and they get along great. And the twins had fun playing with all of them. Then when it got dark we went out in their neighborhood for some most excellent trick or treating. My son was Anaking Skywalker, my daughter was a renaissance princess, and the twins were Thing 1 and Thing 2 except that the one that I call Thing 1 was Thing 2 and the one that I call Thing 2 was Thing 1. There were lots of houses that were well decorated, and the kids all acquired hefty amounts of candy in their bags. Good fun was had by all, and they fell asleep promptly when we got them into bed tonight.

My Car History

Here's my car history:
age 16 - ten-year-old white Mercedes 220 - no seatbelts, no parking brake, swell radio, navy leather interior, the car I learned to drive on, really loved that car

then I went to college and lived in cities and never drove a car again until . . .

age 28 - brand-new black Acura Integra, my husband and I bought it when we first lived in the suburbs

age 31 - brand-new black BMW 540i wagon with gorgeous tan interior, we bought this right after we bought our first house in the suburbs after a couple of years living back in Manhattan, BEST CAR EVER, still affectionately known as 'the mamacar' after one of my oldest son's first words

age 32 - brand-new black Toyota Land Cruiser, still had the BMW wagon, this was just an extra car back when we were car-happy, mostly used this after the twins were born as all four kids could not fit into the BMW, never used it enough to get attached to it

age 32 - red Ferrari BB512i - made teenage boys look, the dealer actually told my husband, "It's too much car for a woman", lots of fun was had in this one - justified having the nanny just to be able to go out in this car whenever I wanted, by day a boring suburban mother of 2 and then later 4 small children - but jump in that car and it was better than being 16 again, much better . . .

age 34 - brand-new silver Mercedes E-Class wagon, present from husband a la the scene in Dallas when JR brings home to Sue Ellen a brand-new Merc wagon that obviously made a huge impression on the hubby in his youth, never liked the car, it got totalled three months later when I was rear-ended while stopped at a red light on a bridge, had really ugly gray leather interior

age 35 - brand-new white Chevrolet Suburban, intended to be a crash-proof four-kid mom vehicle after I got in the accident with the Mercedes wagon, I liked it well enough, served our purposes well, travelled well, didn't love it but was sort of attached to it

age 37 - crabass-owned used white 2004 Chevrolet Venture minivan, functional, I'm pleased that I have the longer model that has additional room after the third row of seats (which I always have in use) for groceries, luggage, or rear-end crash crunch space, seems swell so far and, best of all, freeing!

The Car Is Here!

A white 2004 Chevrolet Venture minivan is not mine but is now at my disposal to drive - WOO HOO! Sure, it belongs to the crabass, but as long as I don't load up the kids and leave her son (at which point I'm sure she would call the thing in stolen - let's call that her Defense of Marriage Act) I can come and go as I please!
In the morning I am going to go take all of the kids out to the beach - and stay out as long as we want!
Late in the afternoon we are going to go to one of my two good girlfriend's house for pizza dinner and then trick or treating - and it's going to be fun!

Good Night Out

Last night I went out with my other good friend. We went and hung out at the cafe in the Barnes&Noble and talked for three hours. Great good fun. As my husband said when we made plans, not many girls would ask you out to the bookstore . . . but boy was I excited. I'd been suffering from literary withdrawal since I haven't been to the library or bookstore since we got here (4 weeks now!). But the best part was to have someone good and fun to talk to. And both of these friends of mine have sons who are my son's two best friends so it works out great for my kids too.

This morning we went to see my oldest son's school performance for which he was Babe Ruth. He looked great in the costume I made him and he said his lines wonderfully. I also get so excited when I get to see one of my kids do something like that at school. I'm so proud of him! My daughter's class also got to see the performance so she was really excited too. And the twins came with us and they saw their big brother. I love this stuff!

Crabass came along too - I think because she realized how bad it looked that she would not even get up last Friday to see my daughter dressed up for her school performance much less accept my invitation to come along. So hard for me to understand because my mother would give anything to be able to come - and she is moving down here so we can live with her and you can bet she will go to everything she can to see the kids. Anyway, the twins were sitting on a bench between myself and the crabass and they are clearly terrified of the woman who could care less which is which as they spent the entire time scooching as far as they could closer to me with Thing 1 practically on my lap and Thing 2 practically on Thing 1's lap. And every time she turned to speak to them, mostly to shush them although they were extraordinarily well-behaved the entire time and didn't need shushing, they would turn their heads away from her and bury them into my lap. Yikes!

Rumor has it the car will arrive at our house tomorrow - trying not to jinx it!

This Was Cool . . .

When we left CT to drive down here to FL, we drove through Manhattan because I LOVE NY and I just had to drive through because I don't know when I'll be back. Anyway, as we were waiting in the big traffic jam to get into the Holland Tunnel to go to New Jersey, I look out the driver's side window, and standing on the median waiting to cross through the traffic jam of cars was Roger Howarth, the original Todd on One Life To Live and now he's on some other soap that I don't remember the name of. He was looking really good with tousled hair and a black leather jacket and jeans. I was staring at him for a while just because he was cute before I realized why I was staring at him - IT'S TODD - and about that time he realized that I was staring at him because I recognized him and he raised his eyebrows at me and smiled and then he dashed through the stopped traffic - HE WAS TOO CUTE!

The Bright Spot of My Day

In the middle of the day when I could not fathom how I was going to get through the remainder of the day with these kids in this house under these conditions when they were just totally acting out testing every possible boundary, I determined that the crabass MIL had no plans to go out for her day and I asked and received permission to use her car to take the boys to the beach for a while.

The warm sunshine and the smell of kids' coppertone and the surprisingly warm water on my feet and writing in the sand did wonders for my mental health and ability to cope - I really do like this part!

When we get a car I can go every day there is good weather which is almost every day - Yea!

And rumor has it we may have a car on Friday, but boy was it hard to ferret out that bit of info. I will use the car 99% of the time but I am the last person to received information about it . . .

I Find This So Inconceivable

My crabass MIL STILL cannot tell one twin from another. This is the fourth week. Last night when the social worker arrived I was just about to serve dinner to the kids. So MIL supervised their dinner last night while the social worker talked to us. Just before the social worker arrived Thing 1 had fallen asleep on a sofa so we left him asleep for the duration since he would be really wonky if we woke him up from the nap. So only one of the twins, Thing 2, was out on the patio eating dinner. After the social worker left we were asking MIL about how everyone had eaten, whether there was anything left, etc., and she replied that "The twin only ate about half of his dinner." That's right - she had no clue which boy was out there with her. Now, normal people who are around the boys for, oh maybe, 5 minutes, start asking me how to tell them apart and which one is which and which one is wearing which clothing if their clothing is different or their shoes are different or their hair is different or which one has the bandaid on or things like that. And then as the time goes on they keep asking and then ask me if they are identifying them correctly. Now, these boys have been living in this house with this woman for nearly four weeks - she has never made any of those inquiries. But I assumed that just by being around them for this prolonged period of time identifying them would come naturally. And especially since the first week we were here they got haircuts that turned out completely different - Twin 1's hair is cut much shorter than Twin 2's. All you need to do is ask me which twin has the shorter hair and you could easily identify most of the time. I'm pretty confident strangers on the street could do it. But not THEIR OWN GRANDMOTHER - SHE JUST DOESN'T CARE! Hard to believe, I know, but take yesterday, when they were wearing completely different sets of clothing, she never asked all day (nor on any other day that we have been here) which one is wearing the white shirt. Never mind that their personalities are very different and the way they speak is very different which should be apparent enough after all this time to at least identify them most of the time. BUT SHE DOES NOT EVEN TRY - BECAUSE SHE DOES NOT CARE!

This evening an old friend of hers came by because they were going out to dinner together. Thing 1 was being very friendly to this lady while Thing 2 was being very shy and hiding behind me. MIL kept pointing out how "That twin is being uncharacteristically friendly" - nevermind the complete inappropriateness of her repeatedly harping on the shyness of the twins in this FREAKING STRANGE ENVIRONMENT WITH STRANGE PEOPLE COMING IN ALL THE TIME - but she had no clue which twin she was talking about. She could have asked me sometime today, which boy is wearing the red shirt and which one is wearing the blue, but no, she prefers to just point and refer to them as "that twin". Nice, huh?

This would not be nearly so annoying if the woman did not construct this image of herself to the outside world as the "UBERMOM" of 5 kids and 11 soon to be 12 grandchildren with constant boasting of her great skill and adeptness at mothering children. GET REAL LADY!

And This Is Totally F*'d Up

One of the things that I learned from the social worker's visit today was that one of the original allegations made against us in this report was a concern about adequate supervision of the children *because my husband was gone for three days* - ?!? - I, their stay-at-home mother doesn't count for adequate supervision of my own children? (And nevermind the fact that my mother just happened to be staying with us the whole time anyway but that's not even relevant.) How could someone seriously write that in a report? How many friends do I have who have husbands who go off on business trips to India and Europe and South America and China and leave them with sole supervision of the children - why, sometimes for weeks at a time! Are all those children in danger? Should social workers be showing up on their doorsteps to conduct investigations? As McEnroe says, Are You Serious?

I know you are reading this thinking that there must be more to this, these people must be seriously off in some way, there's some part of this I'm not getting because this just doesn't make sense - and that's the same feeling that I have had since this whole thing began. We really did use to be very normal people and we have kids who are taken care of in an exemplary manner and they excel at school and they have lots of friends and they are incredibly well-adjusted and well-rounded children and i am a responsible, well-educated, contributing member of society - we don't smoke crack or beat-up anyone, for goodness' sake, we're elitist northeastern decaf-skim-latte-swilling liberals (and my mom only drives Volvos!). I really do feel as if I have been dropped off the end of a rollercoaster, but I fell a bit better about it this evening.

Oh, No!

The big news today was that the Yacht Club Halloween Party was cancelled! Because they were planning to have it on the night of Halloween this year and not enough people made reservations for the party because kids want to go trick or treating on Halloween - DOH!

Feeling Like I'm Twelve

This entire "experience" that started six weeks ago today has continually made me feel like I'm 12 again. Dependent on my parents, no control over my own life, there's a long list . . .

I am into my fourth week living with the crabass MIL and without a car. Today we got the computers rearranged so I now have my laptap with wireless broadband acess - Yippee!

One day last week I stopped at Walmart on my way back from taking the kids to school. This was the only time that I have gone anywhere by myself other than directly to and from the school. I needed to get some supplies for a school project for my daughter. Nevermind that I was paying for said supplies out of my emergency funds from my parents because crabass never offers to pay for any of our needs other than when my husband goes to the Super Walmart for groceries twice a week despite crabass' offer to "pay for all of your expenses." Well, when I returned home from being at the Walmart that is literally a three-minute drive from her house, she scolded me most sternly for having been "late" without having asked her permission to keep her car out. She claimed that she had wanted to go get some Pine-Sol, but that she could have had somewhere important to go. You would have thought that I was 15 years old and had taken off driving a carload of friends to Vegas for the weekend. As she was SCOLDING me, I pointed out that my husband had called me on the cellphone three times while I was at the Walmart for things that he needed me to get and that surely he could have requested I return ASAP if needed as I was only a THREE-MINUTE drive away. After I repeated that for a second time it seemed to sink in. Of course, she never asked my husband, who was sitting at her dining room table, if he knew where I was or when I was returning, or whether he could call and ask me to return so she could make her urgent trip for Pine-Sol. And of course, if she had been up and about when I was leaving the house with the kids I would have told her that I needed to stop off at Walmart just as I told my husband. Of course, she never did go out that day and get the Pine-Sol. Or the next day. I think she was just pissed that I had clearly gone SOMEWHERE in her car without asking her permission.

This whole car issue has been the greatest bane of my existence since we got here, because I cannot leave this house! And even when my husband and I do go somewhere, like our exciting twice weekly visits to the Super Walmart, we cannot dawdle because two of the kids must stay at home with her since only two kids can go at a time in her big white Caddy and she is a very reluctant babysitter. And it's a far too long story to repeat here, but it is entirely the crabass' fault that I am here without my car. It was all her doing so I cannot feel bad that I have to drive her car. That said, it does look promising that we will have a car by the first of next week. At last. I hope!

Last Friday, my daughter had a performance at school. Earlier in the week I had invited her to come with us. Of course she didn't, because she is not really interested in the children! She couldn't even be bothered to get up in the morning to come see my daughter in her costume - she was representing Greece and had made a Greek flag and was wearing a toga with this great belt with coins hanging off of it - she looked beautiful!

Saturday afternoon I took my two oldest kids to the joint birthday party for the kids of one of my two really good girlfriends that I have here. One of the bright spots of coming to live here is that I have these two great friends - they are saving my sanity! Anyway, it was just wonderful - the crabass let me drive her car there - to spend the afternoon at a relaxed, family birthday party. My friend invited everyone to stay for dinner - she was making pizza from scratch - but since I had the crabass' car I felt I had to leave - didn't want to get SCOLDED AGAIN! But one of the things that I'm sure I will enjoy here are the far less tense and uptight people here (once I have a car and can get out to enjoy them). This birthday party and the one that I took my daughter to the previous Saturday were just lightyears from the uptight, snooty birthday parties of my town in Ct. The people all talked to one another (including me!), whole families came, they stayed, and the parties just kept going well over the appointed time, there was no rushing, just enjoying happy kids playing, and no mom standing at the door with the goody bags after 1 1/2 hours on the dot. That's a good thing!

This afternoon at five o'clock the social worker from child protective services came to the house to follow-up on the report from CT. This woman seemed far more normal and reasonable than the one that visited us in CT. She said that she saw no problems with the house or the children. The only issue for her is my husband's mental health, and some counseling and report from the shrink should alleviate their concerns. The case must be closed within 60 days from today, so at least I won't have this thing hanging over my head for an extended, indefinite period. The difference in this woman's attitude and the one in CT was just night and day. I was shaking plenty when she came in but by the time that she left I wasn't shaking at all! Anyway, not a pleasant experience to have to go through, but I am feeling much better about the whole issue.

My father is coming down later in November to look at houses. I am hopeful that maybe at least in the spring my parents will have moved into a new house that we can move into with them. It's not exactly paradise living with my parents either but it will feel like it's my house and I will be comfortable and my kids will be comfortable. Some days I get through here a half-hour at a time. My husband has been working (and I do know that that is great) from six a.m. to midnight nonstop on this project, but it is incredibly wearing trying to control these kids in this uncomfortable environment. Just like visiting uncomfortable relatives - TWENTY-FOUR SEVEN!

I had a lot of fun yesterday having a long lunch with my girlfriend here who has been such a big help to me in moving back here under these circumstances.

Tomorrow I have to make a toga for my daughter to wear to the school's International Day celebration as well as a Greek flag for her and Tsatziki dip with cut-up pitas and veggies.

Last year sometime we went to this interesting restaurant in Manhattan with some friends where we had really great Tsatziki dip and other more exotic things and lounged on pillows on these big banquettes low on the floor around the table and it was all surrounded by flowing draperies. Can't remember the name of it. But afterwards we went to the Hudson Hotel and hung out with the hip and cool people at the club there and then at the bar at the Library there. That was fun.

I Love . . .

watching three-year-old boys eat chocolate-covered graham crackers and drink their milk. Such simple joy.

Another Nutty Thing to Look Forward To

The first two things MIL told me after we got here were (1) the code of silence and (2) the amount of hassle she had to go through to get us reservations for the Halloween Party at the Yacht Club since members were not allowed to bring guests since it is such a desirable party but because of her longevity at the Club she explained that she had Houseguests (?) and they made an exception for us. Oh, I'm still waiting for the Welcome, It's Great To See You speech, but I got the full details on the Yacht Club party arrangements Hour One.

Now, this event is two weeks from tonight. We will see loads of people we know from when we lived here before and loads of people that my husband knows from growing up here. And I will assume the placid exterior expression, smile and nod continuously, blithely opine on our vast housing options, that we just can't make up our mind, we're so happy to be back, yeah the weather up north really sucks, oh we're all doing great, couldn't be more thrilled, ask intently about everyone's new houses and countertop choices, giggle conspiratorily over some clueless people's gauche choice of flooring, really, what were they thinking, frown seriously at the grievous loss of some lout's dock during the hurricanes and the endless troubles and expense in getting it rebuilt in a timely fashion and worry intently over the unfortunate loss of his boat's seat cusions during one of the 'cane's and the incompetence of the manufacturer to adequately replace them - they had to be sent back twice? Why I Nevah! Good Fun - Can't Wait

Another Weird Thing

Before we moved down to FL with the MIL, my husband and I talked openly about this experience. Not in front of the kids obviously but with each other we would talk about it and refer to it and could joke about it. I could say to him, Gee, isn't this (some cool thing one of the kids was doing or some good thing on TV) better than doing you know. Or if he was being irritating, I would say, Well, maybe the $$$ (large amount of his life insurance) would be better than that. All said extremely kindly and gently and caringly. I swear. And I talked to him about how many people since this incident had told me about themselves or men that they knew who had become suicidal over their financial difficulties. I mean, a lot of people understand his situation and how his financial problems could lead him into this situation and are very sympathetic and so many people, from family and friends to complete strangers came forward and were so supportive and helpful and just plain kind. It was just amazing. Really a beautiful part of this whole experience to see so much goodness in people.

But, back to my point, since we came to MIL's, and her code of silence that she has imposed on our "experience" that I described in a previous post, we can't talk about it any more. I mean we can late at night in our room but he's so busy working that there isn't much of that or outside of the house (like when a very good friend of ours sent us to Disney World for the day right after we got here since we are nearby and we were holding hands and watching the kids see Disney for the first time and I could look at him and say, You couldn't miss this) but we don't get out much since we don't have a car yet (long story there). I know this will change when we get a car and get more time to ourselves and get out of this house more, but methinks this isn't healthy. It's as if it never happened.

Deep Dark Secret

that I could only reveal to my blogging friends - I have not had the guts to even tell the hubbs this - but as the helicopter was circling our house the thought did cross my mind, "Boy, do I have something to blog about now." BUT I DIDN'T! BECAUSE CLEARLY I'M NOT A REAL BLOGGER!

New Dilemma For Me

So I was at that birthday party that I took my daughter to on Saturday and all these strangers knew that we were new, had just moved here, and everyone's next question is where are we looking for a house. Now my crabba** MIL (loving that word - craba** - really nails her for me) has sworn all family members to secrecy about our "experience". Only my husband's brothers and sister and their spouses know. Extended family and no friends of MIL or the family know. This was one of the first things that she told me - and that no one else was to know. Well, as I've just described in the previous post, in the town where we were living everyone in the entire town and the surrounding towns know. That is, everyone that I know knows. And it's really kind of freeing. I mean, I never felt ashamed or embarrassed or anything because I did not do anything wrong and you would not believe the number of people who have told me about themselves or people that they know that were "suicidal because of financial difficulties" in the parlance of the locals. Well, of course I told my two good friends here because I have to talk to somebody and it is MY FREAKING LIFE. But, I was thinking at that party, because my head is still spinning, I mean I have lost all sense of time and my sense of location is pretty shaky too so I tend to view these people with quite a bit of ditachment right now, what if I just respond to these people's questions about our housing plans, "Well, my husband is suicidal and we're bankrupt so the whole family thinks it's best if we just live with his mother for now." It would be so much more freeing than the whole, "Well, we're not sure where we want to live so we're just taking some time to think about it and enjoying the pleasures of living with MIL." What do you think?

I Left Out This Part

So the week following my husband's implosion - which was broadcast all over our local tv news and papers for three days and even the postman at the post office who took my express mail envelope looked at my return address and then inquired how we were all doing - I attended the Open House at my kids' super snooty school. Not one single person spoke to me. (Except the principal who was fantastic through the entire situation and the social worker who was super nice and extremely supportive.) But not one parent of any of my kids' friends. Nope. Not. One. But I looked fantastic - I dug out some tres chic clothes and my husband didn't think I had the nerve to show up, but really, I did nothing wrong and I had nothing to hide since everyone already knew everything. I really do have to recommend the "My Husband Is Suicidal and We're Bankrupt Diet" because I shedded pounds that no running up hills could budge. And I have to admit the "My MIL Is a Crabb-A** Diet" is pretty awesome, too. And I was darn lucky that I had had my hair highlighted just shortly before this incident occurred. Because it did look effortlessly great through the whole ordeal. And being thin with great-looking hair does help to alleviate the "My Husband Is Suicidal and We're Bankrupt" thing.

One More Thing . . .

The weather really is fantastic here right now and despite how much I love NYC and my town in CT and the fall leaves that are in full force and turtlenecks and overcoats, I am thoroughly enjoying the beach weather - and as soon as the laggards get us the car I will take the twins to the beach every morning and I am really looking forward to that!

I Really Do Love Mondays!

I took all four kids for a big walk this morning - and we stopped at the grocery store to get a treat for after lunch and a New York Times for me :) Must. Have. Some. Sanity. And tomorrow is Monday so the big kids will go to school. It's ok with just the twins during the day - we go out for a walk and watch some cartoons on the sofa and eat our snacks and lunch and do some drawing and do computer activities and run around in the backyard (quietly - Just Kidding!). I can keep them entertained. But these THREE days with all four of them in this house (without a car to be able to take them anywhere) and my husband working the whole time and the MIL studiously ignoring us except when to correct something she find the children doing amiss - NO FUN!

As an aside, I do love the comments that I get when I have all four of them out with me. They are all really good and cheerful and beautiful and I love being able to say that Yes, they are all mine.

I'm going to try to have a better attitude and perspective this week. I wake up each morning pretty darn cheerful and positive. Some days the crabby MIL seems to beat that out of me, and by the evenings when I'm writing my blog posts that's what comes out. But despite that annoyance, she doesn't really make me upset - darn pissed sometimes - but not fundamentally upset. So I've got to remember that. I mean, considering everything, I'm so far beyond this current situation, I'm just not going to allow her annoying self to disturb my life. I want to take care of my kids in the way that I always have - being cheerful, positive, fun, and happy. Tomorrow I will play some of the music that I brought on my computer and we can dance. I think that being positive and happy and pleasant (though all I've done is smile and nod the entire time I've been here no matter what MIL has said to me) is the best antidote to the old bat's crabby demeanor. And if one of the twins (and she sure won't know which one) takes a pillow off a sofa, well, he's three and I'm going to let him be three. With glee!

And This One Grain Stuck Way Up There

This afternoon MIL told my husband that "we have to find a time-out spot" for the twins. (Nevermind that the woman has made NO effort in the two weeks we have been here to make any attempt to try to tell my twins apart. These are her grandchildren.) The thing is that I don't give time-outs to my children. I don't know why. My oldest just wasn't temperamentally suited for time-outs. The next one didn't need them. And the twins aren't suited for it either. I guess I have just adapted my correction methods in a different way and I discipline them, just not with time-outs. Well, my daughter is the one today who reported to me this conversation between MIL and my husband. That's right - MIL did not bother to notify me of this. Neither did my husband let me in on the plan. And when I returned from the birthday party that I took my daughter to, the DH informed me that one of the twins got a very effective punishment this afternnon when he forced him to sit next to him in a chair. Ummm, like a time-out? Uh, where did that idea come from?

What the he** do I do? I know that I am thankful that this woman is letting us live here and begrugingly putting up with the kids and sort of reluctantly buying us food, but now she's going to take over how my kids are raised? Do I really have to put up with this? Every element of my life is so out of my control right now and the only thing I have is that I am these children's mother and quite frankly that is the only solid thing that they can rely on right now too.

Sand In My Shorts

That's how I feel about the MIL who outright IGNORES my children while making it her life's work to brag about how many children she had, how she loved having a big family, and being quick to criticize anything she thinks any other parent is doing wrong with their children because she knows EVERYTHING ABOUT RAISING KIDS. Guess what? In the twelve years that I have known this woman it had become clear to me (long before I got into this situation) that SHE DOES NOT LIKE CHILDREN! Hypocracy, Lady!

This was today's little lesson: This morning while my three sons were play swordfighting out on the grass in the backyard she informed me that "the children cannot shout outside." HUH? I have spent the past two weeks trying to take my modern, informally-raised children and make them conform to the behavior norms of a formal household of 1969, and now you are going to tell me that the children cannot shout outside. "Because of the neighbors" she tells me. Now, this house backs up to a major road with cars flying by at 45 mph. The two side neighbors also back up to this road. Do you think they can even hear my kids over that road noise? And besides the one neighbor has been librally using a buzzsaw to repair his hurricane damage while the other neighbor has teenagers that have pool parties filled with all kinds of merriment and who were shouting outside (I know because my window is open to that side of the house) at the advanced hour of 9:00 p.m. this evening.

But my four children, 2 three-year-olds, a five-year-old, and a seven-year-old are now prohibited from shouting outside. And my husband has been going around shushing them all day.

I suppose that's another thing that really peeves me in the living situation. When he is in this house he becomes one of them - this all seems normal somehow to him. He's been assimilated by the borg. And I'm all alone.

Princesses Everywhere

I just returned from a princess-themed birthday party that I took my daughter to for a girl in her class. It was super nice for my daughter to be invited since she's only been here for not quite two weeks. I got to meet some of the other moms and their girls which was really nice for me.

One Month Ago Today . . .

I found a suicide note from my husband. It said that we were broke, that he could not provide for the kids, but I would soon have his life insurance money and be able to take care of the children properly. He had left the house on foot and we lived in an area surrounded by woods and several miles from town. I called 911 - this was about 9:00 a.m. - and the police arrived and more police arrived and more police arrived. By 11:00 a.m. there were about ten police cars on our small street, a couple dozen police office in and around our house, and they were commencing a large search of the surrounding woods with about 70 police officers plus volunteer firemen and eight bloodhounds and a helicopter. I called his oldest brother who lives in Washington, D.C. and he caught the next shuttle and out at the house about 2:30. The oldest kids came home from school about 3:45. I told them that we didn't know where Dad was, but the police were looking for him. By nightfall they had pretty thoroughly searched the area and had found no sign of him. This was a big story in the papers and the local news for three days. The next day the search began to focus more on where else he could have gone. The police took his computers and searched through all of his things at home. By that time we had contacted all of his friends to determine whether anyone knew anything. About ten p.m. that second evening I went in to lay down in our bed with our kids, and I checked my email out of habit. He had sent me an email. It said that he was even a failure at suicide, but he was still working at it. I frantically sent him a reply. I think I sent about five. But there were no more emails from him all night. (From the first evening that he was gone I found myself habitually checking my email when I would go into the bedroom - the computer was next to my bed - and I would think - boy, this is really stupid - I bet if he could see me he be saying, Geesh - I'm out killing myself and you are checking your email - I was sure that anyone would think I was crazy - and everytime I did it I would try to tell myself not to do it - bad habit - stop it - more important things going on - and one time I actually thought during this thought process - wait - he does know my email address - maybe if he's in trouble somewhere he would contact me - maybe if we never find him, some day in the far off future he will email me - I know I read too many mysteries - but I came so close to closing my email and forcing myself to not look at it out of some kind of common decency - fortunately, he knew my habits too well.) The next morning I sent more. Still nothing. Soon after 11:00 a.m. on the third day he replied. I kept sending him more. I tried to convince him let me come talk to him wherever he was. Eventually,that afternoon he agreed. He told me to meet him at our local beach where we take the kids to play. I showed up at the appointed time, and there he was lying on the sand reading a Harry Potter book he had checked out the library the week before. I convinced him that I wanted him to come home even if he was broke - that having him in our lives was far preferable to any money, to say the least. And whatever out future it was would be ok as long as he was with us.

In the days that followed his spirits rebounded considerably. I think he was hugely relieved - by the time he came back home his family, my family, and I all knew the situation and had offered great assistance. That is, perhaps, the most frustrating part for me - this trauma was all so unnecessary - our families will help us and we will all be ok. He just could not face failure. His family is highly competitive and does not deal well with failure.

It was soon decided that we would go live with his mother in FL because she has a house large enough for all of us and my parents do not. We started packing, and we both felt like everything was starting to get better. Then the social worker from child protective services showed up. One of the police officers had filed a report against us - emotional and physical abandonment of our children against both of us - emotional because of his state of mind I suppose - the woman said there were afraid he would harm himself in front of the children and me, well, she seemed to say just because of my association with him -they didn't have anything specifice - and physical against both of us because he had left the clothes he had worn the night before on the floor next to his bed and I had not picked up our bedroom before calling 911 at 9:00 a.m. as I had been getting out older kids off to school and getting the younger two ready to go to speech therapy and because there were one day's worth of dirty clothes on the floor of the laundry room - a separate room where the children never go and we are talking about clothes worn once, not soiled clothes - and the police officer claimed there was spoiled food in the refrigerator which is just plain not so - I cannot stand leftovers and I just don't keep around old food and you can certainly hold against me wasting food but you simply will not find old food in my refrigerator. Anyway, this really unpleasant, hostile, young, and clearly inexperienced social worker completely freaked me out with her investigative visit. We were in the middle of packing with opened brown boxes all over the main floor of the house and as I explained this to her she replied that she would write down on our paperwork that we said we were moving. As I sat next to her on the sofa I was shaking like a leaf - she asked me if I had substance abuse problems - ha! - I don't ingest alcohol, caffeine, or sugar and have not taken any medication other than Advil in years - but I was shaking so badly and that woman was so hostile there is no telling what she was thinking. She concluded that while she had the power to close the case, in this instance she would definitely be referring it to FL when we moved. So, instead of waiting out the following week while we were packing and since that day was the kids' last day at that school, I decided we would go on down to FL. I mean I have never been in trouble in my entire life - I've never even turned in a school paper late. I just needed to get out of that house.

So now we are living with my MIL in FL. My husband had to return to CT with my father to pack up the house and move all our stuff to storage for now. My father drove a van with some of our essential belongings down here to us. The MIL is quite a case. I'm still waiting for some kind of welcome, please try to make yourself at home, I'm just thankful everyone is all right, anything . . . The deal is that she will allow us to live here and pay for our food and buy us a cheap car. My parents are paying for the kids' school, their clothes and other incidental needs, all of my needs, our health and life insurance, most of our moving costs, and my husband's oldest brother is paying for a bunch of other things. For the five days that my husband was back up in CT and I was stuck here without a car and wholly dependent on this woman she did not once inquire whether me or my children had sufficient food. She had gone to the store on a Monday and gotten the twelve items of kids' food on the my list and my husband came back the following Sunday night and she still had not once offered to get us more food. While my parents have been very kind, generous, and understanding of her son (when they really have no reason to when you look at what he has done) even paying his return airplane ticket from CT because she sent him up there with a one-way, that woman obviously is barely tolerating me and the kids. She outright yelled at me on about four occasions for things ranging from my children's eating habits to my husband's relationship with his family. The not-so-amusing part of this story is that she has far greater means than my parents. I mean she is not neglecting the food situation out of need but out of indifference and/or hostility. Oh yeah, did I mention the part where my parents are selling their house in VA and moving down here to this redneck town and buying a house big enough for us to live in with them. The point is that when my husband is not here she treats me like s-it and outright ignores her own grandchildren. And it really isn't that different when he is here except she has not yelled at me in his presence. She never speaks or interacts with the children at all. And for my husband, this is home. He is perfectly comfortable. While he agrees with me about many of her shortcomings, he doesn't find it as off-the-wall strange as I do. And he is not heebeejeebee uncomfortable all the time.

Anyway, I'm taking a long way to say that living with the MIL is perfectly miserable. It will take my parents some time to get moved down here. They need to sell their house and they would be more comfortable selling it in the spring, but I don't know how much I should pressure them to sell it now. This has all happened so fast. My husband is working on a software programming project for a friend of his in San Francisco. That takes his mind off all of our problems and will be good in that he will be bringing in some money and getting a great current reference for his jobhunting. And he very busy with that and under time pressures so he does not have time to deal with his mother on the sort of issues that are making my life here so miserable - oh, like, working out a more practical way for us to acquire adequate and appropriate food. See, I keep going to the store when we are out taking the kids to school or walking up to the store with the kids but MIL is supposed to be paying for our food, not my mom. But I'm stuck here without a car - long story but the car acquisition process keeps dragging on and on and on and I am stuck in this house with this miserable woman and I do not have a car to even take them to a playground. I can theoretically drive her car but I really hate to do it and since I can only take two kids with me that is only good while they older two are at school and when she does not need it. Not very practical. But I'm sure the car thing will be settled sometime soon . . . by the end of next week . . . maybe . . . ? The ridiculous thing is that my parents were perfectly willing to keep paying for my car for me - this woman just arbitrarily decided that we shouldn't keep it and in the committee-decisions getting made at the time I let my car go. And my parents are paying for so much for us and I need them to buy a house so I don't want to make them buy a car, too. And it was all the MIL's idea and she offered and she has far greater means than my parents. This just makes me want to bang my head! The good part is that the kids have adjusted quite well so far - they are in classes with kids that they remember from before - and I have two very good friends here - one of them has a son in my son's class and they are back to being best friends. And my parents have been super supportive throughout this ordeal. They will not allow anything really bad to happen to me or the kids. It's just a pain in the a** putting up with the MIL.

I know I have rambled too much, but I think you have the gist of the story. We are all ok. The living situation at this house is ridiculously uncomfortable at the present moment - like visiting really unpleasant relatives that make you really uncomfortable - but I will get my husband to straighten out some of these issues and when I get a car I will at least be able to get out during the day. I'm kind of freaking out right now because tomorrow is a school holiday so all four kids will be in this house with me for the next three days straight and the husband will be working so I cannot "bother" him and the miserable MIL will just be sitting and looking at me with her miserable long face and trying her best to completely ignore us when she is not criticizing us. Did I mention that she "offered" to do this for us? I know I've left out tons of details but this is the general outline of what's happened to us in the last month. I'll fill in more as time goes on . . .

The other really good thing is that I saw my cardiologist and had an echo done the week before I left CT and the peripartum cardiomyopathy that I developed when my twins were born (another very long story I will tell sometime) is now deemed to be totally cured - according to some research I had a 25% or less chance of surviving - some cardiologists told me outright that I would die in less than two years - and I am now completely healthy - my heart is very strong - as if it never happened. So things are really not bad from my point of view - we are all healthy and well!

And I have not seen Desperate Housewives yet!