A Cyclic Poem

More and more Hope tells me see doesn't think I'm as "fun"as her father.  I don't spend each and every weekend we're together doing something extra special and extra fun.  While her father plans activities and time filling times for every moment they're together each weekend.

I'm not a bad mother.  I just feel like I feel other voids in her life. I really AM the fun parent, I'm the one who's always there, I'm the one who talks to her and laughs with her and yes, forces her to do her homework and read before she goes to bed and bribes her with a WI when she finally learns her math facts (a bribe which has so far not worked even though the damn WI is sitting in it's box on top of my closet.)  I was at my friend Dana's house Friday night (Hope was spending the night with a friend) and I took a quiz "Which TV mom are you most like" and I came out as the mom on Gilmore Girls, which shows you just how cool (or lax) a parent I am.

Are my feelings going to keep being hurt because I'm not the fun parent?  He gave me a child support check the other day and she asked what it was.  He answered (as I was struggling for the correct way to put it) that this was money he was supplying toward her college education.  What a lie!!  And yet now she'll think he's being the responsible on and providing for her future, when in fact he's barely providing for her present and it's only because I'm currently ABLE to put that money into a college fund for her that he can make that claim at all.

Makes me mad.  Bitterly mad.  I know it's not supposed to be competition, but I WANT HER TO LOVE ME BEST.

There, I said it.

*****

My neighbor has a job opening for me, he thinks, at his company.  I gave him my resume, he's going to give it to his boss tomorrow and he fully expects me to get a call.

Could God or fate of my renewed good luck blogging karma be coming into play?  Keep your fingers crossed!  I won't say more at this point.  I jinxed the last "perfect job" by counting my new salary before I got the check.  But pray, or blog, throw salt or cut off some bunny feet...whatever it takes!!  More tomorrow!!

*****

Oh, and if you have any taste at all and want to pick up one new/very old excellent TV show to watch, catch Doctor Who on Scifi or BBCAmerica.  I promise you'll be hooked!  David Tennant is ALMOST as hot as Roger Federer!!!!

Every morning starts the same now that school is back in session.  My radio goes off at about 6:20 and about five minutes later Hope crawls in bed with me.  Usually I'll hit snooze and we'll both go back to sleep for another ten minutes or so before it goes off again and we know to get up. 

I have Bronchitis.  Again.  So I didn't sleep well last night.  Again.

This morning when my alarm went off I'd been on again off again awake all night anyway, so I just let the radio stay on.  I listened to my normal Top 40 radio guys going on about something mildly amusing and waited for Hope to show up.  She crawled into bed with me and I just left the radio on.  We lay there all snuggly for a bit.

(Out of the blue, like) She asks, "Is that Delilah?"

Um...

I didn't say anything because sometimes she'll say weird things like that in morning when she's really not awake but just sort of talking in her sleep.  But after listening a little while longer she asked (a little more insistently), "Is that Delilah??"

Okay, so that was weird.  The only Delilah I've ever heard of is the lock shearing one from the bible and even most of that knowledge came from a two part episode of  Xena, the Warrior Princess which Hope's (probably) never seen.

I said no, I didn't think so.  Then of course I was like, "Who is Delilah??" 

She says "It's that lady who gives people advice.  You know, people who've been through a divorce or had someone in their family die or get a horrible disease.  Or sometimes if they're in love she'll talk to them too, and she likes to talk to people who are having birthdays."

I was completely lost by this time because I know every TV show she watches, I know every book she reads, I know every single thing in her life that might add influences (accept on the EE front and he's SO damn conservative, he about stroked out when I took her to see Goblet of Fire when she was six, PG-13, you know.)

She got up and I got up.  I was bleary and coughing and LATE.  But when she came up later I asked her, where the hell do you know this Delilah person from?  I didn't put that in quotes you see, because I didn't actually say, "Who the hell.do you know this Delilah person from?"  She would have been VERY offended by that sort of language and I would have gotten a fifteen minute lecture on how the language I use reflects on how I've been raised and my level of intelligence because people with any education and half a brain can think of far better ways to communicate effectively than through foul language...not to mention the fact that I ended that sentence with a preposition!

Lord, aren't you guys glad you don't have to have an actual conversation with me?  I can't even tell a story straight through. 

She finally tells me, "It's the lady on the radio.  The lady you always have me listen to in my room when I go to sleep." 

Ohmagod.  Delilah is the REQUEST LINE lady on our local easy listening channel!!  You know the type, you call in and request a song to be played for your mother/boyfriend/dog because it EXACTLY says word for word what you've always wanted your mother/boyfriend/dog to know.  I had NO idea the show was on, every time I go in there it's playing Wind Beneath My Wings or Let's Get Physical or something by Journey.

I should have known no radio station would play Journey songs back to back to back like that if someone weren't requesting them!!

*****

An Elf, Margaret??  Et tu??

*****

I went to a great deal of trouble, did all the paperwork, paid the money, got myself readmitted to GSU.  It was all great.  Five more classes to go.  Tax, Auditing, Business Law, Speech and the Business cap course.  All done.  Fully degreed and ready to take the accounting industry by storm by this time next year.  Conservatively, by this time next year.  Maybe even just two semesters if I quit work and went back full time (which really isn't an option because *see upcoming post on my VAST ebay inflated credit card bills that will take me six months to pay off*).

But GUESS WHAT, my loving and wonderfully supportive friends who have been with me these last three years urging me to get my ass in gear and get those classes done?  Guess the hell what?  (Yes, Hope...I know I could choose to use different words but sometimes the situation calls for a hearty curse word.)

After.  Five. Years.  All.  Major.  Classes.  Must.  Be.  Retaken.

I took eight, count them, EIGHT accounting classes at Georgia State...while I was pregnant.  While I was pregnant!!  Hope is seven.  I may not have that much vaunted degree, but even I can do that math.  None of those classes count anymore.  I have to retake them all. 

I was so excited.  I was so proud.  I was finally ready to take that last step toward success.  And then...this.   I felt like I'd been hit over the head with a mallet.  Not only is it three times as much TIME, it's also three times as much money.  Now my mom wants me to get all my GSU credits and all my Georgia Tech credits transfered to Kennesaw State and finish out my accounting degree there.  Which is all fine and dandy.

In theory.

I can't seem to get up the energy to do all that.  I used up all my motivation just getting readmitted to GSU.  I'm completely paralyzed again.  I suppose it will another seven years before I decide to get my ass in gear.   

I'm really afraid.  I'll be doing this forever, answering phones, being the office bitch.  Not worth anything to anyone, living off my mother.  I feel pathetic.  I'm almost 40 but I barely have the emotional maturity of my own child! 

She IS awfully mature for her age, everyone says so!!

I took Hope to see High School Musical at the Fox Theatre on Friday night.  It was her first time there, and her ever true "concert."  We blew $50 on two t-shirts, not to mention the $70 a piece I spent for front row loge seats.  But we could see everything and it couldn't have been more perfect.

She called her Granna, her friends and her Daddy as we were sitting there waiting for the show to begin.  For those of you not from the south and unfamiliar with the Fox, it's the theatre in Atlanta where Gone With the Wind debuted, in a dumpy little city with absolutely no claim to fame accept that it was where Margaret Mitchell was born and wrote her little book.  The Fox was redone and redone beautifully, to look like an ancient outdoor theatre of old, complete with a sky full of twinkling stars and a "surround" of the theatre itself.  It looks like William Shakespeare could be directing or performing for the Queen on that stage in that impressive atmosphere.  It later fell into disrepair and was in danger of being torn down, but a group of people got together, raised money and it is now back to (and even surpasses) its former glory.  It's a very special place and even I've only been there a few times.  A couple for the Nutcracker, Duran Duran and Jimmy Buffet (not together) and now, High School Musical.

It really was magical for us.  I wish I'd had my camera, not to take pictures of the show (strictly forbidden) but to take pictures of Hope's face as she sang (loudly and horribly off-key) and danced her way through the whole show.  Every time I looked over at her, my eyes welled up.  I'm such a sappy mother, but to see her enjoying herself so much made me so happy I could have cried.  So I did!!

M's daughter had seen the show the week before Hope and M warned me that Hope would be "horribly disappointed like Bella" because "none of the REAL movie kids were in it."  But Hope already knew that before we went.  The real actors have like, TV shows and stuff, they can't tour the country!!  She couldn't have been happier (although she did mention the "fake Troy" was much uglier than the "real Troy."

We had to walk downtown to get to our car afterwards, the streets FULL of people, giant limos, stretch hummers, and guys hawking fake High School Musical t-shirts (first for $15, then $10 and finally $5 the further away from the Fox we got.)  She oohed and ahhed.  It was her first time in the big city EVER, and even more special was that it was at night.  It was 11:30 before we made it to our car and midnight before we got home.

****

My official quit smoking date was today.  I've smoked two so far.  I'm a dismal failure.

I threw a screwdriver this weekend in a silly fit of rage.  Hope left the room briefly, then came back and gave me a giant hug while looking at me solemnly and saying, "I'm SO proud of you for quitting smoking, and I know it makes you irritable and I support you."  Ohmagosh, I got all teared up, she was just so darn cute and grown up.  She left the room because I think she was a little scared, but after thinking about it, she knew how to give just the right amount of support.  She's so proud of me, and wants so badly to help me quit, she braved my bad mood and ended up giving me just what I needed.

That's not to say that I didn't BADLY fall off the smoking wagon this weekend.  I was supposed to be down to five a day (although I was still allowed to smoke ten) in preparation for this week's five a day limit.  But alas, being at home all day on a nasty rainy weekend completely threw me off my rhythm.  I ended up smoking my entire 10 for each day (and maybe more because I sort of stopped counting after a while, my paperclip rosary thrown out the window.)  I can tell the weekends are going to truly suck when the magic cold turkey quit date begins.  No allowances for cheating then!!

Yesterday I got back on track and only smoked the five I was allowed, but again, it’s not so hard when I’m at work.  One on the way in, one at lunch, one on the way home, two at home at night, and sleeping pills to make me pass out by nine, before I can smoke any more!!!

Hope has been a true support.  Every morning when she crawls in bed with me, I tell her how I did the day before and I get huge hugs for if I did well and words of encouragement for the next time if I didn’t.

Our morning routine is so sweet.  My mother gets her dressed while she’s still asleep (as am I) then she crawls into be with me until she gets called down for breakfast. We both get up, I get dressed and she always eats quickly enough to come back up and spend some time with me before she has to leave at 7:00.  I leave by 7:15 and everyone’s happy.  The problems arise on the days when neither my mother nor Hope have to get up.  I’m completely immune to my alarm clock now, because it goes off every morning and I’ve learned to ignore it in favor of being awoken by my child.  Very bad news for me and work on school vacation days!

Evil Ex has gone back to his old ways.  He didn’t call for a couple of weeks, but I left a message on his voicemail telling him (nicely) that Hope is starting to ask questions and that this time, I won’t be able to cover for him as much as I have in the past.  Luckily, he did call her last night.  He does appear to be sick and told me he has suffered some depression lately which he said kept him from calling or coming to get her.  I feel for him on the one hand, depression can certainly be debilitating, but for his daughter he needs to drag himself out of bed long enough to make that phone call.  He apologized for not paying any child support lately, but it felt like more of a plea for me to say, “that’s okay” than for any real bad feelings on his part.  Oh well, at least he called.

Hope is doing well with her studying.  We’re taking the online CRCT preparatory tests and she’s doing remarkably well, but it’s difficult to tell how much subliminal help we’re giving her.  I guess it’ll all come out in the wash.

I finally spoke with my best friend of many years last night.  Luckily, she’s one of those friends, we can go years without speaking, and pick back up as if nothing’s changed.  It’s been at least four since we’ve last spoken and in the meantime she too has been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder.  Perhaps it’s the flavor of the month.  She has something weird though, she hears voices and she sees people.  She talks to them, almost as if they’re ghosts and strange things seem to happen all around her.  The first therapist she went to told her was seeing paranormal activity but this second doctor definitely wanted to medicate her.  I don’t really know that I agree with a bi-polar diagnosis based on “hearing voices” but then again, I’m obviously not a doctor.  But seeing people and hearing voices sounds like a problem, no matter what it turns out being!!

My Birthday!!

I turned 39 yesterday.  And I wasn't happy about it.  First of all, the Great Flood decided (of course) to make it's seemingly weekly appearance so I felt hungover and irritable all day, plus I went down to only 10 cigarettes a day, which shouldn't have mattered since I was smoking less than that already, but for some reason it did matter, just knowing I couldn't have more if things got yucky.

But I got to work, and there was a balloon, and a card from my new friend here, and even a little silver necklace with my initial on it.  Later in the day, two of the supervisors (both men) had gone out and bought me a card and a little stuffed animal.  I felt so warm and fuzzy, I feel like I've already made some very good friends here.  But there's a part of me that's so wary.  Nothing lasts.  Nobody is ever as faithful, friendly and good as they seem.  Eventually some bomb will drop and I will learn the hard way (once again) never to trust people.  For now though, things are good on the work and friendship fronts and I'm trying to live in the moment with that.

The real fun was when I got home.  I knew Hope had something planned so I felt pretty bad that I felt pretty bad physically (haha) and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get in the spirit of whatever she had done.  But I drove up to the house and there were two mylar balloons dancing on the mailbox (one of them a huge butterfly, Hope's personal favorite) and I have to tell you, I teared up a little at her thoughtfulness.  I walked down to the mailbox to pick up the balloons, and unbeknown to me, two of the neighborhood kids (who think I'm "cool) were hoofing it behind houses (having seen me get home) to make it in the back door before I could get inside.  I walked through the garage into the kitchen and it was all dark, and the lights came on and Hope, Bella and the two other girls burst in the kitchen yelling "SURPRISE!!!"  Even though I sort of knew it was coming, I still jumped and they were all so pleased with themselves. 

They found a card at the dollar store that said something on the front like, "29 again?"  You open it up and it says, "I guess you can recycle this card just like you recycled your birthday."  A running joke because I've been telling the girls for weeks to remember I'm turning 29, not 39.  Hope refuses to give in, and corrects me every time.  She was so pleased to have found a card that went with our joke.

We had birthday cake, ice cream and pizza.  They made matching necklaces for me and Hope.  We had such a good time all around!!  And Hope was practically jumping with excitement at having planned it all.

I mourned a little about getting older and closer to that nasty 40 year old mark, even though I know it's all in my head and age is REALLY all in my head.  But mostly I mourn that I don't believe in love anymore.  I think it's all a joke, it's all hormones and friendship mixed up and it is never real and never lasts.  I'm pretty sure I'll be alone for the rest of my life, and I try to come to terms with that, but I hate the fact that a person who was once a hopeless romantic now reads a romance novel, skips all the gooey loves scenes and poo-poos the happy endings.  That's why I hate getting old.  I want to be young and naive again.

Bah humbug.

In a perhaps misguided attempt to keep myself too busy to smoke today, I'm going to try and give my site a whole new look.  But first I'll post here and then visit a few old friends.  My serious lack of commentors is giving me a complex!

Hope was sick on Thursday.  She complained of a bad  stomachache and then when my mom saw her a few minutes later (one of the many good things about having my mom work at her school) she was white as a sheet.  Mommy went ahead and brought her home, where she slept for about an hour, then woke up and puked her guts up all over my mom, herself and the bathroom.  She felt a little better after that but was puny for the rest of the night.  Of course, I panicked throughout, railed at my mom for not taking her to the doctor as soon as Hope complained of a stomachache and then got all angry and defensive when my mother dared voice the opinion that every little tummy ache didn't require a doctor's visit, especially one that wasn't accompanied by a fever or any other major symptoms.  It took a phone call to my friend Kelly ( a mother of three) in which she told me the EXACT SAME THING to convince me my mother was right.  Poor mommy, she never gets believed, but I'm such a paranoid mommy.  Hope is just everything to me!!

My job is going great.  I've met a "kindred spirit" there.  We're close to the same age, although she is much prettier, perkier and more modish than I am.  But whatever, she accepts me for who I am and we've even gone out drinking a few times with some people from work.  I just don't drink anything and she tells me I don't have to, I'm more fun without it than most people she knows are with it.  On Friday I  sort of explained why I don't drink.  I didn't use the "alcoholic" word, because (as with my last job) I didn't want to be branded with that label for the rest of my time there.  But I did tell her that soon after Hope was born, I got involved with a very bad person and then stayed away from home and drunk for five weeks.  That every time I sobered up, the shame and horror of what I was doing was enough to make me want to keep drinking to make it go away.  So (as I told her) I just decided that after that I chose to refrain from drinking at all.  That since I have a history of alcoholism in my family, I'd made a decision to not let that sort of thing happen again.   She was totally cool with that and had few stories of her own to tell that made me realize (once again) that I'm not the only one in the world with skeletons in my closet.

I like this job very much.  My mom told me last night, with tears in her eyes, that she hasn't seen me this happy in years.  Even with the trying to quit smoking and the stress of a new job, I seem happier and more at ease than almost ever before.  I agree, and I'm not sure why...but the people at my new job are nice, seem to like me and seem to appreciate the job I do.  There will be times, as there are at every job, when we all won't be getting along and when I screw things up and when I'll be unhappy or even miserable, but at least for now, I think the good will outweigh the bad.  I hope to not be a Receptionist/Admin. Assistant forever and in fact, this job includes very few phone calls. I do time-sheets, take sales calls, schedule all our sales leads and write out all our maintenance and sales proposals.  And that's just for a start.  I have a gut feeling that I'll soon be doing more and be moving up in the office hierarchy. There's not much room to move up, since there's only about 10 of us office folk, but I think I can make more of my job the more I learn. I'm happy, there's room to grow...and I'm making EXACTLY what I was making at my old job where I was miserable and stuck in a dead-end position.

Hope hasn't been doing so well in school.  We have been concerned for a long time, her reading isn't progressing like I want, her handwriting is abysmal and she can't spell the most basic words.  So my mom sort of snuck around the system a little and got the school psychologist to give her this different test.  Like an IQ test, the first part tests verbal skills and the second part tests non-verbal or matrices.

I'm not sure what that means, but she scored (overall) with a 137 IQ. There is a 10-15 point variance in there, but the test let us know she's not stupid.  So her scholastic issues are being caused by something else.  She simply doesn't care.  She doesn't pay attention, she doesn't listen, she fidgets and chews on her fingers and nails...but then again, sometimes she exhibits none of those behaviors at all!  My mom and the school psychiatrist are leaning toward ADD, but I told my mother (although we will have all the tests done now, because to wait would cost upwards of $900) that for this year at least, I refuse to have her medicated.  I'm such a weirdo.  I have no problems with medications that can help, I take 400 mg of a medication every night and will do so forever if it helps me keep my alcohol demon at bay, but for some reason I have an intense abhorrence to medicating Hope.  But even that doesn't make any sense.  I give her Singular every single night to control her asthma and get angry with EE when he makes an issue about "medicating my child."  No sense at all.

I'm off to tweak this sucker.  We'll see what it ends up looking like!!

Thanks all of you for checking in with me.  I can't tell you how THRILLED I was to get your comments.  It seems like reconnecting with old best friends.  I've missed you all, and feel immensely grateful that you are all still there for me.

So, Hope is convinced there's no Santa, no Tooth Fairy and no Easter Bunny.  But when it was time to go to bed Christmas Eve, and I threatened no Santa would come if she didn't go to sleep, she hit the sheets pretty quick.  And then, after we toasted the new year, she wanted to know if there was someone who brought presents for the New Year like they did for Christmas.  Haha...she may not really believe, but she's not quite willing to risk it yet.

She's lost both front, top teeth.  She actually pulled the last one.  I can't figure her out.  All four of her bottom teeth, she calmly let me pull.  She got upset just a tad when she saw the blood, but really it was no big deal.  Well, to pull the first of her top teeth, I had to literally hold her down.  Sit on her, hold her hands together in front and STILL she clamped those lips shut and then tried to BITE me!!!  She got so hysterical, I had to stop because it was bringing on an asthma episode. And the thing is, I know it's not because it was hurting or anything.  The thing was turning black.  It was hanging on by a thread.  I tried to get her to pull it and she'd make this big production with the tissue paper and grimace while she "yanked" on the thing.  Blah.

And THEN, she goes to her Daddy's and he gets her to pull the other one, no problem.  Bah.  Men.

She had an asthma episode a few weeks ago.  She had this little cold and then in the middle of the night she came in my room coughing and she literally couldn't catch her breath.  Luckily, I had her albuterol inhaler and that stopped the wheezing.  But when we took her to the doctor the next day (yes, two doctor's visits since I stopped having insurance) her blood oxygen level was still low so they gave her a breathing treatment there and put her on steroids for another week until her cold went away.  (Have I already written all this????  It sounds so familiar to me!!!)  Anyway, my point with all of this is that I told the doctor that Hope had had an asthma ATTACK, and the doctor said, "No, if it can be resolved with the inhaler, it's simply an asthma "episode."  An asthma "attack" requires a visit to the ER because the problem can't be fixed any other way."

Well, fine then.  She had an asthma "episode."  I adore Hope's doctor, but I did think it was funny that she made such a distinction between the two.  Even Hope remembers and is very clear when she explains to people about her asthma and how she's now had one "episode" but it wasn't an "attack."  Too funny.

I dressed her up as a pirate for Halloween.  She loves Pirates of the Caribbean, and the only female in the move never wears anything but a dress, so I got this great girl's costume on-line.  And I put makeup on her and she looked so CUTE.

Only thing is, she also looked like a HOOKER. 

I have to post a picture.  I won't leave it up because I swear she looks ten years older than she is, but you have to see it.  I didn't realize until I saw the pictures...but my GOD!  I don't feel too bad though.  Half our 10-12 year old neighbors were walking around as sexy nurses, sexy devils and sexy vamps.

Too funny, I just looked back and yes, I already posted all that stuff about Hope's tooth.  But oh well, I guess it's been so long, some of it bears repeating.  I'll post that picture soon.

*******

Don't know when I originally typed this.  Sometime in September, I think.

There will be many typos in this.  It's late, I'm emotionally exhausted and I'm too tired to go back and read the whole thing.  I don't really want to.

****

The 23 year old asked me out for dinner this weekend.

****

My computer at working is fucking up again.  Corporate denies any knowledge, so it's either Stalker Boy or Corporate is lying.  Either way I feel threatened and harassed.  I let the appropriate people know and everyone made appropriate noises..."we'll figure it out and let you know."  I have no idea what to do.  For all I know, Stalker Boy is accessing my computer here at home as we speak.  Wireless network and all.  But I have a friend coming over this weekend to make sure it doesn't happen any more, if it's happening at all.  As for work, I guess there's nothing I can do.

****

I called my dad on his birthday. He talked to Hope for a while and me for a little bit longer.  I couldn't really tell you what we talked about, just this and that.  He had been (was) drinking.  He was slurring and going round and round in the conversation.  He's a brilliant man.  When he's sober, he's probably the smartest person I know in the world (sorry, Brian.)  But when he's drinking, it's like talking to a child.  He told me how wonderful and bright and perfect Hope is, and I agreed. 

Hope had just had a history lesson at school, apparently last week some time was Hershey's birthday, so they talked about Hershey Town and all that in class.  So when Hope found out my dad lives in Pennsylvania she just about DIED!  So Daddy promised to send her chocolate this week and sure enough (although I was positive he'd forget) a nice note (written in large, 1st grade readable print,) two crisp fifty dollar bills, a ceramic chocolate bowl full of Hershey chocolates and an official Hershey t-shirt (purple, her favorite color, just like she'd told him) showed up on our doorstep for her today.

We called at 8:00 tonight to thank him.  I just got off the phone with him at around 9:30.  He talked to Hope for a few minutes, then she talked to Ellen, his wife, for a while.  Ellen makes Hope gifts every year, beautiful hand made things, quilts and last year, some gorgeous pj's which Hope was wearing tonight in honor of the chocolate gift.  Then Daddy talked to me for a while.  I regaled him with my million dollar cat stories and out of the blue, he asked if he could speak with my mother.

WHOA.  Dude....

He was drunk, by the way. So, so, so drunk...at his body weight and at what I'm sure his tremendous tolerance level is, I'd estimate at least a fifth, perhaps more, by the end of our conversation.  He's always been a functional drunk.  He can (and does) always get up in the morning and go to work, no matter how much he's had to drink.  I can't figure out how he does it, but somehow he does.

So what can I do, but let him talk to my mother.  He talked to her for while, he was basically checking on me.  Finding out if I was still drinking or not.  Making sure I was healthy and wanted at "real" perspective on the whole thing.  He asked if there was anything he could do to "help", basically my mom just told him the real help would be some kind of reassurance that if anything ever happened to her, he might be there to do something for me and Hope.  He was feeling all pensive and remorseful and kept talking about their relationship and how things ended, and all that stuff.  I only caught her end of the conversation, but basically that was it.

Finally I got back on the phone with him.  Then he turned really maudlin.  Asking me if I still loved him, if I'd ever loved him, did I think we could ever have a father/daughter relationship again.  Telling me I thought he was a horrible father and telling me he'd do things differently if he had a chance to do them over again.  We both knew (I think) what he was really talking about, as far as being a bad father, but I wasn't going to say it and he most certainly wasn't going to say it.  I just told him he was my father and that I loved him and I'd always loved him and I always would.  That things that happened in the past were over and done with and didn't affect the present or the future. 

He'll never know or understand that the sexual abuse is NOT the thing I remember that brands him forever as a "terrible father" but rather the things he did to me to COVER the sexual abuse.  He wouldn't let me out of the house, he wouldn't let me be with my friends, join clubs, play sports, have sleep-overs, go to parties, football games, date or do anything that would put me in a position where I might find someone to confide in.  He took away my childhood.

He never knew I'd never tell anyone.  I loved him too much to shame him by telling anyone. 

All his machinations to keep me from telling turned me into what I became, insecure and afraid of life...unless I drunk enough to shrug off my lack of social experience and experience emotions, experience life.  I don't blame my alcoholism on anything.  It is what it is, and runs so hard and so long on both sides of my family, it'd probably be there anyway, but I do think I might have been more emotionally mature had I had a "normal" childhood.

He wants me to take Hope and fly up to see him and Ellen.  I'd like to see him.  I know, it sounds strange, but I do love him, he's my daddy, and I do love him.  I'm not afraid to take Hope up there.  Again, I know that sounds strange...of course, I also know she'd NEVER be alone with him.  Not for one single second.

I'm more afraid of the drinking thing.  Seeing him drunk.  He was drunk all my life.  Most of my memories, good and bad, are of him drunk.  He was a very nice drunk and a very mean one.  Depending on if you were doing exactly what he wanted or not. Ellen will be there, but the last time I went to visit him (a long time ago) he drank, I drank...that's just what happened.  My mom's afraid for us to go.  She worries about Hope.  I mean, she worries about ME too, but if I get drunk that's one thing, but if I get drunk and I'm in Pennsylvania with Hope, that's quite another thing.

He hung up pretty quickly.  One minute he was offering to arrange plane tickets and telling me (and I quote) "If you want to kill me, all you have to do is say "no" when I offer to pay your way.  I'm that desperate to see you."  Then, he was off the phone and that was it...hardly time for me to catch my breath.

I don't know what to think.  I'm a little shell shocked. This all happened because of a little birthday phone call a few days ago (his birthday is the day after my sobriety date, ironic) and the fact that I let Hope talk to him for the first time.  I think that's what did it for him.  I think he thought I was deliberately keeping her from him.  I wasn't.  I was just too drunk when she was little, and too busy getting somewhat well since then.

But now, I just can't make a decision like this, you know?  Probably won't have to, he'll have forgotten about it by tomorrow.  But he didn't forget about the chocolate, did he?

Well, Hope lost her top tooth the other day.  We had to hold her down, kicking and screaming, literally HOLD HER DOWN, while she tried to bite me, but I finally got it out.  It was all nasty and black and barely hanging on, but for some reason, this particular tooth, she wasn't willing to relinquish.  All her other teeth have come out easily with her meekly submitting to having them pulled.  And now she's got another one hanging that SHOULD have come out before Christmas, but I wasn't willing to fight her on it and now I'm praying her father can get it out so HE can be the bad guy. 

She got a microscope and a little cellphone for Christmas.  Yes, I know, as six year old has no business with a cellphone, but it's just one of those Firefly phones, which only dials a few numbers, like home and Daddy, that sort of thing.  She's out and about so much it's hard to tell whose house she's in so this way I can just call her to get her home.  Yes.  I know.  I'm rationalizing, but come on...I'm a gadget freak, so why can't she be one too?

She specifically asked for the microscope.  Specifically asked for one that "Is NOT a toy.  One that won't break when I use it the first time and one that actually works."  So I went to the Discovery Channel Store and bought one for her there.  It's pretty cool, comes with a piece (a teensy piece) of a 2000 year old mummy wrapping, so it fit in well with my love of Egypt, a love she claims to share.

It's been so long since I've blogged, I guess I've pretty much forgotten how.  There's so much I wish I could write about, but because of my Stalker, and the fact that I'm pretty sure he knows this website, I can't really write the things I'd like.  I do have another job now, one that I like very much more and one I feel much safer in.  The people are wonderful here and I think would give much more credence to my concerns than "Big Corporate" did.  It's really too bad, I miss my friends at my old job.  Basically my Stalker took everything which was important to me away from me.  My friends, my job, my privacy, blogging, my reputation and my self-respect.  Getting this job was near impossible and very touch and go due to my not being able to get a recommendation from my last employer.

Christmas was good this year, albeit a bit tight.  Being jobless didn't help and of course, Hope is without medical insurance at the moment and has been sick twice since I lost my previous job.  This after going a full year without getting sick once.  Her asthma kicked up in a big bad way when she had a little cold.  Scared the crap out of me when at 3:00 in the morning she was wheezing and unable to catch her breath.  Luckily, her inhaler helped, but by the time she got to the doctor the next day, her blood oxygen was down too low so they had to give her a breathing treatment and put her on steroids for a few days.  What fun that was!!

I got her her first pair of pearl earrings for Christmas (or rather, my mother did) and I think that was her favorite gift.  We had told her earlier that your first pearls are a big occasion and one to be celebrated.  I think she understood enough to be thrilled when she got hers.  Especially considering I told her I didn't get mine until I was 16.

We had family and friends over for Christmas Eve as usual, only this year was weird.  My Aunt's new husband of two years AND her ex-husband of thirty were both there.  I guess it wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be...but STILL!!  Hope got tons of games, we're so darned tired of playing the ones she's go, we decided to get some WE were interested in playing.  Monopoly and Scrabble Jr.

Hope didn't make Target, in fact she scored the lowest on the test of anyone in her class.  I feel terrible about being so disappointed.  I swore I'd never  care about her being the best or the brightest, as long as she is happy and tries her best.  But she is so unmotivated and doesn't seem to care one little bit if she is the best or the worst.  She is improving in her reading, but her spelling and her handwriting are abysmal.  I was completely freaked that she did so poorly on that test.  Her verbal skills are incredible, EVERYONE who meets her and talks to her tells us how smart she is for her age.  She carries on a conversation worthy of someone much older than she is, but that doesn't seem to translate scholastically.  I just don't get it.  And I equally don't get my reaction to her being considered "slow" by her teachers and everyone else.  I KNOW she's not, and I shouldn't let these tests affect me this way, but they do.  It's awful.  So we work with her and then sometimes our frustration shows through and I think that just makes it worse.  She wants so badly to please us and so her feelings get hurt and she reacts by apologizing for what we consider her lack.  I don't know how to handle it, and I don't know how to handle my feelings.  I want her in all the top classes and I want her to hang with and be one of the "smart kids."  If that doesn't happen, I don't know how and when I'll get over my intellectual snobbery.  Because that's what it is.  I've mentioned that here before (way a long time ago) but I'm not sexist or a bigot, but damn, when it comes to stupid people, I simply have no patience.  What if Hope becomes one of those people?  What will I do?

I won't stop loving her, of course, and since I know she's intelligent, what the tests say won't affect my feelings for her.  But I want everyone else to know it too.  Sheesh...what a bad mother I am.

I'm still so worried about Hope and school. She's barely reading on grade level and we can't figure out what to do about it.

*****

Today some nasty little boys, a nasty little boy Hope's had a crush on since she was four, they put drawings in her bookbag during After School, drawings of them shooting her and her being eaten by a monster with blood dripping down and things saying "you suck" and then they put them in her bookbag and she didn't know what to do with them.  She thought if someone found them they'd think SHE did it and so when she got home she hid her bookbag until I got there so she could tell me about it, because THANK FUCKING GOD, she trusts me.  But then of course, I had to show them to my mother, who happens to be the director of the After School program.

I can't believe it.  She's six and I know she chases this by around and has forever and I'm quite sure it annoys the hell out of him and I'm sure ten years ago this would all have been considered harmless, but damnit, NOT BY ME.  I'm furious and sad and hurt on her behalf and then there's this conflict of interest, because my mother WILL do something about it, but then Hope might find out I told and what if it happens again and this time she doesn't trust me enough to tell me about it.  And what if everyone thinks Mommy's only doing it because it's her granddaughter, but at the same time, my mom told me that if I was a normal "unconnected" parent, I'd be sending those pictures to the Principal demanding that something be done, and she's totally right.

I'm just sick to my stomach about the whole thing and I don't know what to do.  And Hope means everything to me and I don't want her to ever be hurt and she's only six and I have millions of more years of this to go through.

Being a mother sucks.

Dear Hope...

My sweet girl. You're six.  And such a grown up six.  You informed me this weekend that if I ever got married again, you wanted to be the flower girl.  And let me know it was totally okay with you if I did, get married again, because you support me...but especially if I let you be the flower girl and we ALL go to Disney for the Honeymoon.

You're doing well in first grade.  We're concerned that you're not working hard enough.  You seem to struggle with actually working at it.  You want to guess at the words instead of sounding them out, but then cry so broken-heartedly when we try to make you work harder.  You hate to fail us, but we can't get you to understand that it's not the right answer we want, it's the effort to get there that's important.  You're improving dramatically though.  We started working on your words and your reading skills pretty gung-ho only about a month ago and already you're doing so much better. 

I looked at a sheet of practice "a"s  you'd done last week.  You hadn't bothered to trace the first few and not a single one of your letters looked like the sample ones, or anything close.  Even though looking at your "a", I couldn't tell if it was an a, an o or a u or what.  I called you out on it, said they were terrible, and you just cried and cried.  I wanted to fold and tell you it was okay, I knew you were trying.  You kept saying "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry."  I wanted to make it all better for you and tell you they were fine. 

But they weren't, and it would do you no good for me to tell you any different.

So I told you to quit saying you were sorry, and to WORK HARDER to do them right next time.  To listen in class, to read the directions and to apply yourself. You weren't happy with me, the crying and sorry saying has always worked in the past.  I told you about how when I mess up at work, I have to take responsibility for my mistakes and how my boss doesn't want to hear, "I'm sorry."  My boss wants to hear what I'm going to do to fix it and what I'm going to do to make sure it doesn't happen again.

So this week, when you practice your "b"s, I expect you to trace the example letters and work hard to make that loop go all the way to the bottom and the tail go all the way to the bottom.  You said you would, lip quivering all the while, but it's important to me that you learn to read.

The reading.  Oh, Hope...you're having such a hard time.  I'm sorry to say you're in the BOTTOM of your class in reading level.  You have no desire to work at it, you just haven't "gotten" it yet.  I don't know what to do, don't know how to fix it...but that's not true, we are working at it and you are fixing it.  I just want you to know how right now...I want you to know the difference between a d and a b.  I swear, I'm starting to really fear dyslexia!!

I completely freaked out when you brought home math homework you'd done on your own which looked like this (every single number backwards too)

6=3+3
01=5+5 (and yes, those fives were backwards too)

So your math was correct, just completely WRONG!!  The only one you got right, beautifully and perfectly right was:

2+2=4  With a perfectly written four.

I wish I knew how to motivate you. 

We spent an hour last night looking through my wedding album.  You liked the pretty dresses and didn't seem to mind too much that your daddy and I weren't together anymore.  You asked why we got divorced.  I told you because we decided you would prefer to grow up with two separate happy people than two miserable together people.  You said, "I totally understand, Mommy."

More later...