Support.

Tonight I attended an event to bring awareness to child abuse in our community.

Abuse happens every day, in every community. And it sucks. It's an awful reality for so many children.

Thinking back to the times when I lost my shit, yelled at my children, felt my anger build, I feel so ashamed. I hate that the grown-up Amy couldn't hold it together, be the adult in the relationship. Times when I'm feeling most fragile in my mothering, I'm often times acting out because of my own shit; I'm tired or I don't know how to deal with my own anger. Yeah, maybe my kids are running amok but no kid deserves to be the target of an adult's wrath.

I'm better at dealing with my kids now. I'm not perfect, I still get angry. But I think my skill set is stronger in how I respond when I'm feeling frustrated. And that's the important part, right?

I think about the children whose lives are filled with abuse or neglect, the little ones that aren't able to tell anyone about the abuse because they're too young or too scared. It's breaks my heart and makes me want to hold my own kids that much longer, whispering in their ears how much I love them and that I will always be their protector.

It makes me fucking angry at the abusers that touch, hit, threaten. I hate that there are children that go to bed without a meal, in a filth-strewn home, in a home filled with abusive behaviors. It makes me sick to know that some kid is going to bed tonight, scared as shit their abuser will visit them during the night.

What do I do with this? How can I deal with the bullshit that happens day in, day out? This is someone's reality, and that's so fucked.

I love my kids. I'm working hard to keep my cool and take those breaks when I'm feeling angry, at a loss for how to respond. I will think about the children tonight who know only abuse and neglect, and I will whisper words of hope and love for them.

I hope you will, too.

Idiot's Guide to Blogging

So, according to the Idiot's Guide to Blogging, one should keep their blog updated regularly.

Sure.

We're cooking our meals in the basement as of recently. Last month my husband ripped out our kitchen cabinets and tore up the flooring. I helped him carry our stove down our rickety-ass basement stairs and he hooked up the gas line so we can cook in the basement.

If that last sentence doesn't make my parents worry, I don't know what will.

So now our kitchen has a utility sink so I no longer have to wash dishes in our bathtub. That's nice, particularly since I was sick of scooping up nasty pieces of food from the drain. No matter how well you think you've scraped a plate or bowl of it's contents, I swear to you your bathtub drain will remind you of the time you (or your kid) puked themselves and you were forced to touch fucking disgusting pieces of food. It was really gross.

But not anymore because my husband carried up and hooked up the slop sink that has paint splattered on the inside walls, just so I have a place to wash our dishes.

Our refrigerator is in the "back room", i.e., our guest room/office. With it is our microwave and a shelving unit with food, spices, dishes, utensils. And then if you head into our dining room on your left, you'll notice the folding table with a crock pot, coffeemaker and cutting board.

Part of the excitement so far in renovating our kitchen has been questioning whether we've released toxic substances into the air, after Jim had finished the demo stage. Yeah, we're really responsible. Nothing like buying a lead testing kit and realizing that yes, you do have lead paint in a few locations. Neither of those sections, luckily, were ripped down or otherwise disturbed. I also wondered whether we have asbestos that had been disturbed, but I'm pretty sure (and that's what matters, right?) that we don't have asbestos that's been involved in the demo. Oh, right, and during this time both my toddler son and I developed pretty bad coughs which resulted in him actually getting pretty sick and benefiting from oral steroids and a steroid inhalant. Coincident? We'll never know.

Once the kitchen was ripped down to the walls, we my husband took his final measurements and off we headed to IKEA to place an order for our kitchen cabinets. We were thrilled when I called a couple weeks prior and the store informed me that this particular IKEA did indeed deliver to our town. Funny story because when we arrived at IKEA, the woman helping us in Kitchen Design informed us that they just switched delivery companies and (here it comes!) this company doesn't deliver to our town. So then we had to figure out how to get our kitchen order to our home, which took some creative thinking. As of now, unless we can somehow convince the delivery company to work with us and deliver the order to our home, we'll be meeting the delivery truck with our own rented truck at a friend's house 30 miles north of us and moving the load from one truck to another. The kicker is the delivery company actually does deliver to our town, only not as the contracted company working for IKEA.

The other disappointing factor in our shopping adventure was learning that the sink we had chosen, using IKEA's Kitchen Design program, is not available. We're choosing to use another sink in it's place, but it's not ideal.

So, that's life.

Look for another post in a few months, okay?