Transition...

Things finally came to a head with the boys' dad. I called the police and he was arrested. He smashed in the windshield of our car, while Brick was strapped in his car seat and Puddles was walking around the car. I am now in the process of deciding what to do. On one hand, I want to salvage the relationship's status-quo. The boys and I have developed an emotional attachment to their father and his family. On the other hand, I wonder if I am a fool to let him stay in the house right now. Before this incident, he was on a waiting list for a group called the ATA group, Alternatives to Aggression. He was wait listed because he wasn't court ordered.

The police have a pretty proactive Domestic Violence program in our city. I have been in touch with them and now have a support group to attend and legal advocacy as well. This whole journey has been rough. I was in my mid-30's when Jaybe and I met. Our wedding was held one year after our first date. I had wanted a longer engagement, but due to Jaybe's mom's schedule as a teacher, we ended up having a Winter wedding instead of the Spring wedding that I desired. So we married out West, half-way up a mountain. It snowed in the early hours of our wedding, so we had the beautiful back drop of the fresh blanket of snow on the ground mixed with the yellowing leaves of the trees--I believe Ash trees.

Looking back, I am not sure when the power and control issues started. He has always described himself as 'stubborn'. But it is more than that...rigid in his views of how and when things should be done and temperamental in a very immature way when they aren't done---pouting, stomping through the house, etc. Jaybe thinks that things started when we had our first baby, about 4 years after our wedding. But he was controlling before that. I first noticed the inappropriate violence when, one night, upon returning home from piano lessons, I was surprised to see a hole in our front window. Jaybe had been watching Brick, who was about 6 months old at the time. He became frustrated because Brick wouldn't settle down and stop crying. So he left the bedroom and threw a hard plastic teething ring through the front window. Then he went outside for a cooling off period.

At first I was ashamed to tell anyone. At that point I thought maybe it was a one time thing, and I didn't want people to be judgmental of him or me. Him for doing it, me for not leaving. Eventually, I did open up and tell it to some of the people whom with I am closest. Thus begun the cycle....
The book I read that Churlita (shout out, girlfriend) recommended "Why Does He DO That" by Lundy Bancroft, should be required reading for all adolescent girls. Amazing book...so helpful. One of the things I am seeking at the hearing is court-ordered counseling. So he may be on the fast track to the ATA or some other similar group. That is my last and only hope for us to stay together.

Today, I attended a scheduled Parent / teacher conference. The director and I both hoped that Jaybe would show up. Of course, he found a way out of it. I told her that I would tell him that she wants to have a conference with him and she said, "Good." She is planning on telling him to "Man up and fill his shoes as a part of the family". She, too, thinks that postponing a restraining order at this point is prudent. She has seen abusive men belligerent and violent about trying to pick up their kids. Most homicide victims of abusive men happen AFTER the woman has left the abuser. I learned that when I did a college internship at a Domestic Violence Intervention Program i.e. a women's shelter. The other night he asked me what I wanted him to do to help me. I looked at him and said, "Leave". That was not the response he sought. At that point I mentioned a restraining order, and he said that to him, that felt like sliding a knife in his gut and saying, "I could kill you," and twisting it a little bit.

I believe that he loves us, in what is his perception of love. And he tries to be a good dad to the boys, but he loses his temper and scares the boys. This is way too reminiscent of my childhood. I had a controlling mother that frightened me and an alcoholic father, who could be loving OR extremely violent. Our closeness as a couple has suffered greatly. I can't be sexual with someone who scares me.

Soon the boys and I are going out of town to visit family. I need some perspective, I need some solace. I need some sleep.

Troubles with Jaybe...

The other day my idiot partner, frightened Brick so much that he now is puking from stress when he has to be around his dad. The 2nd ultimatum was given from me. The first one given about 2 months ago. He followed it half-assedly. Now I have issued the second ultimatum. He said that the drugs made him feel like a "compliant member of society". I told him that he can either be a compliant member of society and a Dad or he can be a loose cannon (and not a dad). Tomorrow I am going to call the local domestic abuse prevention program--Canopy. I don't know what to do. He loves his boys--especially Puddles. He has always felt like Brick is his competition. Okay, I partnered with a man who is 5 years younger than I am, but he is over 35. Honestly, do they never grow up. I have a book on hold at the library that is called "The self-esteem trap" It is about the parents who try to be their kid's friends instead of parents. It came highly recommended.
I will protect my children at any cost...any cost. I am about to burst. I just see black when I close my eyes. I dropped off the car at 8:45 tonight, because he can pay $500 for a fucking 3rd--yes THIRD bicycle, but he can't pay a cent or put any effort into making sure that me & the boys are safe in the car. The car has needed the rear brakes replaced for probably a year now. In all that time, he bought the brakes and had them in the basement of our house for about 9 months now. Really? Do I have to protect my family in every way, shape and form. I am just frickin' disgusted. the world revolves around Jaybe. You would think the sun rose and set on his ass. WTF. Seriously...
I am trying to deal with the fact that 3 1/2 months ago, my older brother, my first best friend was mysteriously killed in a plane crash after a depositon and before testifying. I recently discovered that the prosecuting atty had tried to issue an order of protection. I wish to GOD he had succeeded. I miss Clem so damned much. Not having him call on my birthday just cut me to the bone. I want to scream and thrash and cry and rage...I MISS HIM SO FUCKING MUCH. It's not fair and I hate the politicians more and more.
And all Jaybe can see is that I am having trouble getting out of bed and I am letting the kids watch too much tv. Okay, I live with PTSD from childhood abuse triggered by a PC experience, Post partum depression after both my kids; I was hospitalized after the second one, when I couldn't sleep for an indeterminant amount of time. Thank goodness that I was, because I was finally able to get back on the anti-anxieties, that I was practically pleading for--but since I don't experience anxiety every day--it cycles--some doctors think I am med-seeking, which is a joke b/c I am sensitive to chemicals and drugs and rarely even take a tylenol.
Anyway...that's whats going on with me. If anyone reads this and has constructive advice, or words of strength, please let me know. I just want to be a good mom to my kids.

Deceptive dreams...

From the blog "I had a dream" about Clem speaking an African tonal language without using tones, as if he were speaking English, and he said that the people did understand him, when I knew darn well that they didn't; while he was alive, i thought I was projecting, but as I understand the situation now, he chose to share with me only the things that directly affected our relationship. He never even really talked about his kids. But one child, the one with whom I have the most strained relationship was in the dream. I think that for me what this means is that through his death, maybe I can become closer to his widow and children. Also, I felt guilty about something that I told him I would do that I still haven't done. Now I realize that he was the one deceiving me. This is the best I can do for now. I am also planning on splitting my blogs to separate the dream journal from the kids journal.

Advice from Clem...

There aren't many people who know the extent of my insomnia. When I mentioned it to Clem, he asked, "What do you do?" In the 17 years that I have lived with it, I have done many things. He suggested writing. So I am. I have journaled since I was in high school and extensively journaled during my years as a PCV. But right now, what I would like to concentrate on is the here and now.
Since last blogging, Puddles had his birthday and I had mine. Puddles took his first step the week after he turned one. Then he got pneumonia shortly after that. That will be a whole other blog. My birthday has always been a sore spot--I was born the day after my abusive Grandmother and my oblivious Mom always had us celebrate them together. Had these birthdays been video recorded, you could have made a whole montage of me, as various ages, at different parts of the parties, running to my bedroom crying.
Flash forward to this birthday. Clem was always good about calling on birthdays. Except my birthdays abroad, he always called. My other 5 siblings did, indeed call. This helped. Jaybe and my Mom, however both forgot my birthday. That night he brought me home a piece of luggage as a present. Also...2 weeks ago, he bought a bike from a co-worker that cost just $75 less than our mortgage payment. Granted, our mortgage payments are not huge, but we are not rich and he did not discuss this with me and I ended up bouncing 2 payments, making it, pretty much our mortgage payment. I know that he has issues with being the bread winner and 'man of the house' as I raise our little ones--and I am looking for outside work sources. The anxiety that causes my insomnia makes my prospects somewhat limited. But he is the one who, when we first started having children, wanted me to raise the kids and not work. Many of his issues revolve around the fact that I become somewhat overwhelmed with sorting house and making house, etc. that our house gets cluttered with hand-me down toys and clothes from relatives and I have trouble sorting through them.
When I told Clem that Jaybe had anger issues, he said, "i am so sorry, honey." Since Jaybe never apologizes, that was really reassuring. The other night, that was my last thought before I went to bed and I didn't have to take anything to help me sleep.
I didn't mean to get off on that tangent, but I miss Clem. His role in my life, I have come to realize lately one of protector on Earth. I always felt safe that if I got into a real jam, he could help me out. God, I miss him. I also have trouble remembering if he ever held my one-year-old. My older boy will always remember him because he took him up in a plane. Now he wants to be a pilot or an astronaut.

Playing Tarot Card Poker with Smoking Clem

A dream about my now dead brother, Clem.
This dream took place in a BIG hotel, that I have dreamt of before. We were on the top floor. Not there as guests, we were playing a sort of poker. But the cards were more like Tarot cards, or more appropriately, fairy tale cards. I remember, at one point having the "Twelve Dancing Princesses" card. Clem played the first game with us. He was smoking a cigarette. He didn't smoke, except during college when he drank (i picked up this habit as well). Or when on a road trip trying to stay awake. There were quite a few tables playing similar games. Clem got up to do something. He left me in charge of his hand. Each hand consisted of 10 or 12 cards. And this was a wild deck. I was trying to figure out if 12's were the same or higher than Queens, and how exactly to match up cards. In the meantime I lost track of Clem's hand. Then I lost track of my hand. The dealer tried to fix it, but gave me the wrong hand. She tried again, and still I had the wrong hand, but decided to play it anyway. At some point I went looking for my brother. I went through one room and then into another and fell into a pool without realizing that it was there. I replay this scene in my head over and over. This is how I felt when my younger brother gave me the news. Submerged, disoriented, fully clothed in a pool, out of context. I would like to say that in the past 2 months since his death, it has gotten better. It hasn't.
The other things that really astounded me about the whole dream was how disorienting the hotel was, and how big. This hotel has appeared in dreams with me before. At one point i wanted to go downstairs to get a soda, which were free to guests, so there was some deception in that. The journey to find the soda was confusing and I don't think I ever found it. Lots of rooms, dark wood, and funky stair cases. My best friend from high school was there as well.
I wonder about his last moments. How quickly his soul was split from his body. A second of recognition that he was in trouble. An emergency call, his final words, which indicated he knew something was horribly wrong, and then a very forceful crash, his body identified through finger prints; by his wife through a picture of his thumbs, after their final task of gripping the controls. How he once asked me, "Why drive in, when you can fly in?" How he loved flying. One of my first memories is sitting on the floor of an airplane my Dad was flying. He was almost 28 months older than me. He must have shared some of those memories.
He died young, looking years younger than his age of 45. He left 4 wonderful children, who I hope will cherish his memory and remember what he taught them. He left his wife a widow, and me feeling a depth of loss that i never thought I would feel this early. He did not leave a pretty corpse. This would have upset him, but not as much as being torn from a family that he truly saw as the most important part of his life. How at peace he was the last time I saw him alive. How he had seemed to gel as a father and as a man.
They say he is with God now. I wish God had given me more time with Clem.

I had a dream

A couple of months before my older brother was killed in a plane crash, I had a strange dream about him. In the dream, he had recently returned from the African country where I was stationed during my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer. He was speaking in the national language. The funny thing was, though, that he was speaking this African language with the inflection that one would use when speaking English. I confronted him, asking, "Did the Africans understand you?" and he was defensive saying, "Yes, of course they did." The language he was speaking is a tonal language that is only understood if you use the right cadence. Therefore, if one speaks the language using the inflections and intonations that one uses to speak English, none of the people in the country would understand a word.

Impressed as I was at his vocabulary in this language, I asked his oldest daughter, "How long was he there?" She replied, "One week." This further impressed me, but I was still confused about how anyone there understood him when his delivery of the language was so off. So there I was, knowing full well that he was being dishonest because there was no way that anyone understood him when he spoke without using the right tones to convey the meaning of what he was saying. But I couldn't disprove him because we were in the US and there were no native speakers of the language around to help me prove my point. We were at an impasse, and, in the dream, I decided that this was okay and congratulated him on his travels and his quick mastery of language.

I told him about this dream, but never really decided what it meant. Initially, I thought that I was feeling guilty because I had promised him that I would do something, and I hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. Looking back on it now that he is dead, I wonder if it was just that I wanted to make some kind of connection with him because I had told him a few months before this dream that I wanted to start talking about my Peace Corps experience more. He responded very positively, encouraging me to tell my stories and saying that he was always proud that I had this experience. I sort of envisioned that he would help me somehow with translating my experience into something that I could understand better and that I could share with others. He died less than a month ago. Since then I dream about him almost every night, but none of those dreams stand out in my memory like this one does. I can't describe the pain I feel due to his absence.

Happy Birthday, Brick!

Brick,

I just wanted to let you know how much I love you, now that you are my big 4-year-old. My life changed substantially when you were born, and I would never go back to the way it was before you came into it. You are a joy everyday, and I have learned so much from you. I want you to know that I love you unconditionally and more than I ever thought I could love.

Big hugs and moochas smoochas,
Mama

Letter to Puddles

My sweetest Puddles,

I haven't written as much to you as I have to my first born, but I wanted you to know what a joy you bring to my life. At almost 11 months, you have hit every milestone on time, some a little early. You love all kinds of food and skipped eating baby food because you wanted to eat what we were eating. Even as a tiny baby, you would wail whenever you smelled food and were not nursing. You got your first tooth on August 9th of this year, just short of 6 months old. You now have 8 teeth. I hope this isn't boring for you, I just want you to know some of the things that have happened up to this point. You smile all the time and strangers often comment on how cute you are and what pretty eyes you have. You are a flirt and a delight, and your mama loves you so much!! You love all animals, and make a 't' sound when you see the cats. You enjoy a good game of Picasso face, and taught yourself how to clap and to blow raspberries on mama's face, so you could do that back to her. You are such a sweetie. You love to cuddle and nurse, and play pass the baby. You go to your daddy and then go back to your mama. I can't imagine life without you and am thankful everyday that you have come to be with us.

Your ever-loving mama