Another Year Down...

As this year comes to a close, it is only natural to ponder all that has transpired. Life has its own way of putting you on the path you were meant to be on. With knowledge, a bit of wisdom and understanding, you can look back at some of the trials and tribulations and realize the meaning that they have provided in your life. Some of my darkest days, have provided me with the most clarity – when I have been open and able to see it. They have provided me with the thankfulness and graciousness of the life I am starting to build. Surrounded by friends and family, I feel true happiness and am blessed by all that I have been given.

With my new job helping victims of domestic violence, I feel I have been given a powerful venue to assert my newly strengthened voice. And just perhaps this is where my life had been leading me all along…

This year has been a year of change for me. Unfortunately, change is rarely done without a fight nor welcomed with open arms, but I have welcomed it this year, for I feel I am becoming the Suzie I was meant to be.  And I feel like the luckiest person alive to have the front row seat of watching the Lil Pixie grow into the amazing person she is supposed to be.  We have become such a powerful team, her and I.

I hope you have enjoyed the holidays with your friends and family - they are truly the important ones. I wish Joy, Peace and Goodness to all of you in 2012.  And I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who read and support this blog.  It has become a real important part of my life, and from all of the letters that I receive I have made a small difference in some of your lives.  What all of you may fail to realize, is how much of an impact you have made in mine.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and support.  Together we can end domestic violence and teach those around us that abuse does not have to be tolerated, there is another way.

 

Have a Very Merry Moronfree Christmas Everyone!!!

Lots and love and Merriness being sent from this blog to you :)

I wish everyone a Merry Moronfree Christmas, and a Moronless New Year!!

Family Court Support Worker Initiative

Have you heard about the great new program that is currently in effect in Ontario?  Great news for victims of domestic violence, the Ministry of the Attorney General is funding a pilot project of Family Support Workers in most family court jurisdictions across Ontario.  These specialized workers will provide assistance to victims by means of information about the family court process, aiding in the documentation of the history of abuse for the court, referrals to specialized services and supports in the community, help with safety planning related to court appearances, and aaccompanying victims to court proceedings, where appropriate.

So for those of you who are at any point of the family court process, and reside in Ontario, do look these folks up, as it is their job to help YOU!  At a time when your world is a mess, someone who can help you to navigate the court system is sure a welcomed beacon.  Speaking from experience, court can be an extremely dis-empowering and traumatic venture.  I say good on the McGuinty Government for making a positive change and perhaps some domestic violence enlightenment to those professionals within our court system.

Have you heard of this project?  Are there similar ones in your community?  What are your thoughts?

Roses are Red

Roses are red
Morons are green
I've learnt my lesson from mine
Now I can truly be me.

Victim no more
Courageous by some
Inner strength and determination
This girl has won.

Scars born of fear
Victory of might
Abusers beware
They will be brought into the light.

Silence may be golden
it can also be deadly
Break the cycle and soar
get your feathers ready...

Rewards From Following Through...

Remember when I mentioned upon meeting my old boss for the very first time, he reminded me so much of the Moron?  Well,  I couldn't have been more on the money.  I'll give you a very quick rundown on the situation.  I was hired to replace a manager at a retail store. That would seem fairly simple enough, except there was all these weird things going on, such as I had to be in to open the store 1/2 hour early (but wasn't paid for it) and close (again couldn't write it down on time sheet), six of us during the day used the same till - but it was only counted at beginning of shift and at the end, we weren't paid for Stat holidays... and the list went on.

Being a single mom in an economy that is, well lets just say less than booming, I dearly needed the money, but I had decided that if I let another person take advantage of me again - without standing up for myself, then I hadn't learnt my lesson.

I talked numerous times with my supervisor, then finally after a month of no headway, told her if things did not change I would have no recourse except to go to the labour board.  I was fired the next day with charges of theft and fraud of the company, and since I was there for under 3 months I was told he could do so without cause.  He presented me with a letter in which it stated I was resigning as a result of my acknowledgement of theft and fraud and that I would not go after my employer nor his company for any monies owing now or in the future, and that if I did not sign the police would be called.  I did not sign, gave back the keys, and left.

I ended up following through and going to the labour board with all the original charges of incorrect stat holiday pay, and reprisal on top of that.  10 months later, a tribunal was held where my employer brought forth 4 current employees that lied and stated that I stole merchandise and came in late constantly.  Here's the thing though, he had no proof (because it never happened), and moreover when the witnesses were questioned, their stories not only did not match up, but no one stated that they actually saw me take any merchandise.

My former employer was told that the burden of proof rested on him under the Act to disprove the claim of reprisal.  In such the rules of evidence applied, and a current employee has more to gain in statements where they are for the employer as they have more likely a fear of losing their job.  No hard evidence was provided, except for ironically, he actually presented the letter which he attempted to get me to sign, and he in fact helped me in ways he at that time could not imagine....

With the presentation of that letter, not only did he corroborate my side of the story, but he hung himself in the process....just like the Moron.  Give them enough rope, and they will hang themselves...
They are so hellbent on getting you back, and believe in their own little crazy world what they are doing is right, that they fail to see how intimidating and just plain wrong their actions are and will be perceived to be.

Today I received the written decision.  I cannot tell you the joy that I feel after reading the 20 page document!!!!  Not only does it make the employer appear to be an intimidating bully, but it awards me with a rather large, hefty settlement :)  One that I truly had no idea would be even part of the equation.  So nice to see the little guy win once in awhile, even nicer to be the little guy that wins :)

Merry Freaking Early Christmas to me :)

Insecurities and Gifts from Pain

Hello everyone, feels like eons since I have been back here. Funny how life takes you on its own little journeys, and forces you to face things.

Insecurities. 

We all have them. They are in all of us, that little voice inside us that tells us we aren’t good enough, that we shouldn’t even try. And if we listen to that voice, we hold ourselves back from taking a chance and we deny the outcome of seeing what we are truly capapble of. We are in essence, living in fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of hope for what may be…. 

Life's ups and downs may never fully reveal to us the true meaning of their intentions.  But if we fail to take what lessons we learn, then they are only that, just major downers in our life.  Sometimes what is learnt is a gift - despite the pain or perhaps because of it.  The gift that lies waiting for us is growth. It is the gift of change. That something good comes from all the pain.

When a crisis hits, when our world is turned upside down, when we are afraid, will we have the strength and the wisdom to welcome that gift with open arms?  Will we have the courage to face our insecurities and allow ourselves to be?

Sometimes the things we don't expect, didn’t ask for – are the best things that happen to us.   May we have the wisdom and courage to accept them.

Happy MoronFree Halloween

Moving into another Halloween I am reminded of Halloweens gone past...

I can remember the very first Halloween with the Lil Pixie, she would have been about 10 months old.  She had the cutest little lion costume, you know the store bought ones with the paw booties.  The Moron took her out that night - not trick or treating, but to a haunted house!!! Yep, the Moron is indeed a smart parent and decided to give her nightmares at the beginning of her life....  Mind you this is also the insightful parent who brought the wee one to drag car racing as well - because we know that all that noise is really good for a newborn's ears.

Let's face it, a Moron makes decisions based on what is best for himself - regardless on how it affects those around him.  All I can say is thank goodness his decision making is only limited to his access.  Although, that didn't stop him from taking our 3 yr old out shooting guns.... and just so you know, there is no laws against that...  And I am not against guns, per se, but you have to take into consideration the teacher here.  One who has never viewed safety as being a priority, nor believes that the law regarding the storage of guns needs to be upheld.

Anyways, I can only hope that someone else is looking out for the Lil Pixie when she is in her Father's care, because the law sure isn't!

And for those interested, This Ninja now has a very wicked roundhouse kick :)

Happy Moronfree Halloween Everyone, what are YOU dressing up as today?

A few words of wisdom...

The first step toward success is taken when you refuse to be a captive of the environment in which you first find yourself. by Mark Caine


Things don’t go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be. Charles Jones


None who have always been free can understand the terrible fascinating power of the hope of freedom to those who are not free. Pearl S. Buck


You teach others how to treat you. Dr. Phil


Abuse survivors ain't no thang but a chicken wing!!!  Suzie Q

My first kickboxing lesson

I am using kickboxing as my new therapy.  Using it to help me overcome my fears, and to obliterate my feelings of helplessness and of being a victim.

In order to do that, I had to get to the Martial Arts place.  I have to be honest, I was really nervous about that - but I did it!  I went to my first kickboxing class.  My goals for this class were pretty short and sweet.  Not crying was at the top of my list.  Not getting punched, was also up there.  At least I achieved half...

Here is what I learned:

1.  I have not jumped rope since being in middle school - I now know why boxers do it to get/keep in shape.

2.  I am not as coordinated as I once thought I was.

3.  Getting punched in the face by a 12 yr old - not my idea of fun - but it will remind me to keep my hands up.

4.  Perhaps watching kickboxing prior to doing it, is a good idea.  Then you can get an idea of what you are supposed to be doing, and not feel like a total idiot.

5.  Saving up for my own boxing gloves is a must - those stinky, sweaty ones from the club are pretty gross!!!

6.  Punching does not come natural to me - blocking or cowering does.

7.  Practice will hopefully make perfect.  It will at the very least provide me with copious bruises...

8.  I did not expect to be hit with such overwhelming emotions.  I am being gentle with myself, and realizing there are many facets to my healing that still need to be done.


Here is where my new therapy begins.  I am a survivor, and I am choosing to empower myself.  I intend to face my fears and kick the crap outta them!!!

Have a kickass weekend everyone.  I will be icing my wounds and nurturing my soul.  How about you?

Project Ninja Suzie

I have been thinking alot about fear, and the effects it has had on my life.  One of my readers, Mathew, left a comment "fear dominates human feelings and emotion more than any other... The fact that you're aware of this is huge with regards to overcoming it," which has got me thinking more and more about fear.  I want to take more steps to overcoming my fear.

Our last poll showed that the majority of people who took the poll, when faced with physical fear they either run or hide.  So I see I am in good company.

WHEN FACED WITH PHYSICAL FEAR I

I started this blog for many reasons.  To share my story.  To hopefully enlighten and educate.  To help fellow victims of abuse, and lastly to help myself with my own journey of healing.  I have overcome and conquered many things along the way, but this fear thing is kicking me in the ass.  I think it's time I kicked back!!!!

I have decided to overcome my fears, and empower myself in the process.  And of course I will document my steps (and falls) along the way. I have decided to join my local kickboxing club.

Just so you know - I have never once thrown a punch in my life.  I avoid confrontation like the plague. And although I love me a good action movie, physical violence awakens that flight part of me that I am hoping to overcome.  I think kickboxing will not only be great for my self esteem, provide some self defence training it will also be an awesome fitness provider.

I can recall when I first left the Moron, I did not have much.  I got sole custody - he pretty much got the rest.  I would splurge on things like fresh fruit, milk, and once in a blue moon - Oreo cookies.  But they were all for the lil Pixie.  As a mom, its just what you do, your kids come first - in everything.

With all my jobs (I have one full time and 2 part-time, plus I volunteer at a couple different places) and being a single mom, money as well as time are pretty slim.  But I decided to bite the bullet and do something for me, for once.  I am sure all of you mothers know what I am talking about.  Your kids come first in all respects, and you are always last on the list for everything. But I decided my underwear can wait (they were at the top of my list).

My little sister said something to me the other day which has been gnawing at my consciousness.  She said (and I am paraphrasing) "By finding time, and allowing myself my own things, I am teaching my girls that I am important.  That I deserve it.  This in turn will teach them they are important and they too should strive to achieve their goals and claim them.  No one else is going to do it for them".  Now she isn't a selfish Mom who just does her own thing - but she has always made time (even if it's here and there) for her goals and her needs, while balancing them with that of the family.

I think victims of abuse have similar natures, or at least they are stripped of them so that they always put their Morons first.  They walk on eggshells to avoid conflict, they tiptoe thru life as to not to upset the delicate balance of the Moron's shifting moods.  They are brainwashed to feel like they do not matter, their lives and needs are below their Morons.  That is what I had become.

In some ways I still play the dance, as to not cause the Moron to take some kind of vengeance at the Lil Pixie's expense.  For instance, not allowing me to talk to her when she is on court ordered visitation.  I feel kickboxing will help boost my confidence, keep me in shape, and help me learn to deal with confrontation better (ie stand my ground instead of fleeing), and thus Project Ninja Suzie was born.

The cost is pretty steep (for me, anyways) - $80/month but I am hoping the rewards will be worth it.  So if any of you feel the desire to chip in a buck or two to help in this endeavour, I have posted a donate button below and in the sidebar.  No pressure - just thought I would throw it out there...

When someone threatens your life, or the life of your child, that fear never goes away.  But if you allow that fear to monopolize your life, then you give your power away. I will not lie, the thought of even starting kickboxing kinda scares me, but I want all my power back.  I need to step out of my comfort zone, and push my limits.  I am done with feeling weak and powerless.  I am done with having no control.  I cannot control what other people do or say, but I sure as hell can control what I do or how I react to it.  I will not be a victim anymore.  I am going to put on the gloves...

My line in the sand...

The morning after, the Moron went to work, and I caught myself feeling weightless and hopeful, but life had taught me otherwise.  It wasn't that hard, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop...

When the Moron came home from work that night, he acted as if everything was fine.  As if nothing had happened.  In the Moron's world, apparently life had reset itself and nothing had changed.  In my world, however, everything had changed, and I wasn't about to go back to my old life.  This was my line in the sand.

I calmly told him he had to move out.  To which he refused.  But I had inticipated this, and packed up the Lil Peanut and a few things and we were out the door and off to my sister's place (about 45 minutes away).  There was no way I was living another minute with him.  And I wasn't about to give him a chance to stop us.

My line in the sand had been drawn - and I was determined to make it stick.  I felt this yearning for more.  For better.  I wanted more, deserved better, and dammit the Lil Pixie was going to have better.  The 9 months of her growing inside me, as well as the year of her life, had strenghthened me.  Instilled a hope of more for us, provided a light for the me I dared to dream, for the me I once was.  To become my own happy ending.  This was my line in the sand, and if I crossed it, I would have nowhere else to go.  Nowhere but down.  And I wanted more.

Something awoke in me, and I wasn't about to let it lie.  My line in the sand is what held me strong in my fight.

The calm before the storm

After the Moron said "it was over" and took the Lil Pixie and left the room, I felt the most amazing thing.  Relief.  I felt as if the World had been taken off my shoulders, I felt lighter, and perhaps (though I didn't realize it at the time) I felt my world getting back on track.

The Moron had gone into the spare bedroom,and the rest of the day is a kind of blur.  I know at one point I had put the Lil Pixie down for her nap (afterall, I was really the only one who fulfilled the parenting duties unless he was putting on a show, parading her around town tires, hungry and always inappropriately dressed).

At one point in the evening when the Lil Pixie was down for the night, I went into the spare bedroom. The Moron was in bed with a pen and a notebook.  He had written on a piece of paper what was going to happen as a result of our breakup.  He was to get the house, since he was paying for it.  I was a grown woman, he said, so fully capable of taking care of myself, so no spousal support.  And we would split the Lil Pixie down the middle, he would get her for a year, then me for a year, so there would be no need for child support.

Despite it being incredibly warped in logic, it was the most mature conversation we had ever had.  The calm before the storm...

Continued...

So standing there in the kitchen, in this moment time stood still. In this moment our whole life together came to one point balancing precariously on the edge, and I was standing looking over it. I knew I had to make a decision, and I knew it would change my life forever...

I could decide to walk away, instinctively turn away from confrontation - but something was nagging at me.  Something made me think of my Lil Pixie and what her life was to be.  Her life was worth more.  She was worth a life of joy.  And my job was to ensure her safety.

I slowly turned around and walked down those few stairs to the wood stove and that smouldering ash bucket.  That horrible burnt smell pierced my consciousness, and I turned to the Moron.  The Lil Pixie was scooting around on the ground. With resolve, I grabbed the ash bucket and put it back outside on the snowy front step.

This made the Moron raise to his feet and start the fireworks show.  He accused me of monopolizing the parenting, being self important, of always having things my way.  He even said I was being careless as putting the ash bucket outside (in the snow) would cause the house to be set on fire.

And the height of his yelling, the Moron picked the Lil Pixie up, said, "we are over" and left the room.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life...

My morning of the first day of the rest of my life, went like this.  This day I will remember forever, as it was the beginning of my road to freedom - though I didn't know it when I woke up that morning.

I suppose my conscious self had realized that it was the Lil Pixie's first birthday, and therefore the promise I had made to myself, and her, was up.  Upon her being conceived, I had promised that I would give her father, the Moron, one year to show he was a good father.  I figured I owed her that.  That one chance to be the family she deserved, the one I always wanted.  Turned out to be a pipe dream, but at least I had tried.

After the Moron had left with the Lil Pixie for brunch with the MIL (though I have my own special name for her), I proceeded to clean up the house and get some house work done.  I thought I may as well take advantage of the deserted house, and could use something to take my mind off the strange feeling I had.

It was winter, so we had the wood stove on as it was our primary source of heat.  This was located in our family room, which was quite open.

I was in the middle of dishes and laundry when the Moron came home in the late afternoon.  He had put the Lil Pixie down in the living room (she was still crawling as she hadn't started to walk yet at this point), while he proceeded to empty the hot ashes into the metal bucket from the stove.  I wouldn't have even known he had done so, except after he had finished with the ashes, he started to brush the dog, and put the shedded hair in the bucket of hot coals/ashes and it was displacing that horrible burnt hair smell into the entire house.

When I passed thru the living room (it is between the laundry room and the bedrooms) I very sweetly remarked that the smoldering ash bucket needed to be put outside with the Lil Pixie around, as things could happen so fast with a little one.  Tragedies happen in the blink of an eye, and it was better to be safe than sorry, so I put the ash bucket outside on the front step (surrounded by snow).

I then continued on to the bedroom to continue folding the laundry.  Coming back thru the living room, on my way back to the laundry room, I noticed the ash bucket was back on the ground, infront of the wood stove.  I took a moment to stop and stare at the still smoking bucket, then at the Moron, then slowly made my way up the few stairs to the kitchen.

In this moment time stood still.  In this moment our whole life together came to one point balancing precariously on the edge, and I was standing looking over it.  I knew I had to make a decision, and I knew it would change my life forever...

The Beginning of the First Day of the Rest of My Life...

It was the Lil Pixie's first birthday - a milestone in more than one way.  A year of her life, a year of surviving a tumultuous family wherein she became a pawn, and the fulfilment of my promise.

Unfortunately, the Moron did not become the father I hope he would be.  No miraculous transitions into fatherhood occurred.  His value or understanding of love did not happen, and in my heart, my road was forged.

It began a very strange morning, being awoken by a phone call by the Moron's mother (the apple sure didn't fall far from the tree in this instance).  He got out of bed and took the phone call in the living room. I later learned he also got the Lil Pixie up and was preparing them to go to brunch with his Mother.

I had already gotten up with the Lil Pixie earlier, so was trying to get some more sleep - but there was something strange about the phone call. When I got up, I found the Moron trying to escape (again) with the baby, without telling me where he was going.

I felt different, braver, stronger, and dared asked him where he was going.  When he replied that he had been invited out to brunch with his mom, I asked why I wasn't invited.  Usually I am in the most avoidance of such confrontation, but something just didn't seem right, and with my new found boldness, I attempted answers.

It was winter, so it was just starting to get light out.  I made sure the Lil Pixie was dressed appropriately, as the the Moron seemed oblivious to such things.  Once again I asked why I wasn't invited, where he was going, etc. The Moron just utilized his trusty veil of non-acknowledgement (one drawn from his more immature arsenal of control tools) and was out the door.

I knew something was up... I just didn't know what...

BIG Promises

Before my Lil Pixie was born, I swore that I would protect her.  But I also felt I owed her to allow her the chance to get to know her father - eventhough he was a Moron.  I gave him a year to be a good father.

We split up on her first birthday.

I've struggle with what ifs alot, and this is a BIG one of those.  But everytime I come back to it, I come to the same conclusion.  I chose that decision out of love.  Out of my love for her, and what I felt she deserved.  I believe everyone deserves the love of both their parents, and me being the glass half full kinda gal that I am, went with it, hoping for our happy ending.

Unfortunately in the eyes of the law, this was in fact my biggest mistake.  Having her born in this place, made it her home, thus tying her legally to it.  Thus tying me.  Eventhough I wasn't from there, nor any of my family (in fact almost all my family was on the other side of the country), this was how the law viewed it.

Here is where my real battle for survival began.  Here is where my love, life and steel was tested.  Here is where my own private hell was wrought.

And here is where I found out I truly was a survivor.

Motherhood with a Moron

Morons are huge opportunists.  And they use the most convenient as well as the most hurtful means available to them to make their point.  After the Lil Pixie was born - that meant her.

There were many a time where I would wake and find her gone - no note - no idea where they went or when they would be back.  Constantly keeping me on edge and reminding me of the threats that he would take her away from me.

My very first Mother's Day was one of these lucky days for me.  One important reminder that he was the one who held the control (or so he believed).  It would be 5 years later that I would have to wait to spend my first Mother's Day with her - a notion not lost on me.

Forever the contriver, manipulator and bully.  The anti was upped with her birth, and the price of losing went up tenfold.  But what the Moron failed to realise, was that my resolve and my strength grew with me when she had grown inside of me.  With that growth grew love and a will made strong for the protection of it. 

There is a reason you don't get between a mama and her cubs.  Its funny how you may not always fight for your survival - but put your children in danger and the claws come out.  I may be more of a flight than fight kinda gal, but at last resort and threatening my child - I will fight to the death.

My inner fighter was slowly being wakened.  Fear was still strong, and the Moron played those cards well - but he failed in his underestimation.  In his underestimation of the bond between Mother and child as well as his underestimation of Miss Suzie Q.

Old Habits are Like a Comfy Pair of Sweats

Sometimes breaking out of what you are used to is like charging through uncharted territory. Like wearing something uncomfortable when you are yearning for that old pair of comfy sweat pants that seems to know your body, hug it, and give you that comfy, familiar feeling.

But that is what you have to do sometimes.  Step out of your ordinary.  Step out of those comfy sweat pants and break in a new pair. Habits are hard to break.  They are familiar and we know what the outcome will be - even if it isn't a happy one - we can at least visualize and prepare for it.

The unknown is scary.  We have no idea what the outcome will be - and our old sweat pants are just so gosh darn, comfy.  But sometimes those sweatpants just aren't working for us.  Sometimes we need to slap on some clean, new pair of pants and step out into the world - and try out new things.  Even scary things.  Like standing on our own two feet, and putting our brave face on, and pretending like we can conquer the world (even when we feel like mush inside).

Sometimes we have to grit our teeth and change old patterns and learn some new ones.  Better ones.  Ones that will eventually feel like our comfy, old pair of sweats in time.

The trick is giving it a try.  Then trying again once we felt scared and abandoned our mission.  Then trying again and again, just like the little engine that could.

That my friends, is how progress is made.  Rome wasn't built in a day.  And our lives don't get better or Moronfree in an instant.  Its a process.  But one that is worthwhile.  Grab a friend to help you along the way if you need it.  Stop and cry if you feel like it.  But keep on trekking - because I know you can.


Never stop believing that you are anything less than worth it, or that someone out there doesn't care.

Truth or Dare

Before the Lil Pixie was born, I had to re-evaluate my life.  It was not as if I sat down with pen and paper and wrote out a list of pros and cons, it was more of a subconscious way of thinking.  I barely even knew it was happening.  But as she was growing inside of me, so was I. I was growing stronger, and I was becoming more of the me I used to be.  But I wasn't ready to dare to be free.

Before she was born I made a promise to her that I would give her father (the Moron) one year to be a good father.  I felt I owed her that.  Little did I know that helped him tremendously in the eyes of the law.

But when I look back on everything, I can at least look myself in the eye, and know that it may have been naive and foolish, but I chose my path for love.  The love of my child.

Ironically we split up a year to the day of her birth - I kept that promise to her and myself.  Truer words were never spoken.

No one ever wants their child to know or see that their parent is a loser.  No one ever wants their child to see that their parent chose something or someone else over them.  But do you ever tell your child the truth?

I have always been honest with the Lil Pixie.  But I choose my words carefully, and tell her no more than she needs to age appropriately know.  And I respect that she has every right to have a loving relationship with her father and enjoy all that it entails.  Which is why we make something for him together every father's day.  It isn't about the Moron - but about her right to love whom she chooses, and not have to pick and choose or feel guilty about it.

Does the Moron deserve it? No.  Does he appreciate it.  Probably not.  But at the end of the day - it's not about him, and truth be told it helps me to lesson the hold he has on me.

If he was smart, he would realise that I actually am his biggest ally, as I will always choose what is right for her.  Does that mean I won't tell her the truth if she asks it? No. But I dare him to even once put her first. Oh well.....one could dream - but I won't hold my breath...

I guess in the end, the truth just may set me free.....if I dare to believe it...

How do you deal with your ex in relation to your children?

Do Morons Make Good Fathers?

Some might argue that how Morons treat their spouses, is not equivocal to how they treat their children.  I for one will disagree.

Some might say that just because they do not treat their spouses with respect, and abuse them - doesn't mean they are bad parents.

I guess it depends on your definition of a good parent. I personally believe that parents owe their children the best possible upbringing.  One that provides them with both emotional and financial security.  Now, I am not talking about providing your children with ipods and tv's and everything money can buy.  What I am saying is that providing them with shelter, good food, clean clothes and good work ethic are important.  Whether you do so with a 6 figure income, or a minimum wage job, is irrelevant.  Paired with the emotional security to provide them with a safe place they can call home.  Safe for them to be themselves, free from physical and emotional harm.

If you don't believe that the effect of spousal abuse has an impact on your children, then maybe you should ask yourself how children learn, and where they gather their information to which they will model themselves after.

Actions truly do speak louder than words.  Children learn from both - but they are little sponges and absorb everything - good and bad.

Morons may want to be good parents, but wanting and doing are often two different things.  Is there a point where you simply lose parental rights?  What if we were talking about criminals, murderers?

I have read some pretty horrible custody trials, and personally have disagreed with many judicial decisions that have been made over the years.

Its a tough call. What are your thoughts on the issue?  Join the debate...

Most Recent Poll Results

MORONS DATING YOUR DAUGHTER(S)

Wow (not that I am really all that shocked) nobody would let a Moron date their daughters. Out of all who voted, 44.4% chose hell to the die NO

33.3% chose over my dead body

22% chose I have a crazy Uncle Joe he can meet first.

Way to be pro-active :)

Don't forget to vote on the next Poll - When faced with physical fear I...

Neighbours, Friends and Families

I am going to introduce a very cool community-based campaign that has been sweeping across Ontario, Canada.  It is known as the NFF Campaign (Neighbours, Friends & Families).

www.neighboursfriendsandfamilies.ca

Neighbours, Friends and Families is a public education campaign to raise awareness of the signs of woman abuse so that those close to an at-risk woman or an abusive man can help.

This is an amazing organization which is targeted at, yup, you guessed it, neighbours friends and families of both the victims as well as the abusers.  Often they are the ones who see the first signs of abuse, but have no idea what they can do to help.  Education is key.  It provides tons of information on how to help the victim as well as how to talk to the Moron.  It is full of information and links, and definitely worth the trip over. 


Give it a try, hop on over and spread the word... Abuse is simply NOT RIGHT.

Poll Question

DO YOU THINK MORONS CAN SHED THEIR MORONIC WAYS?

Well, another poll down, and sadly, no one believes that Morons can change their moronic ways.

You know what, I would love to hear that at least one abuser has changed their life for the better. Perhaps it would give me some kind of hope, for a world packed full of Morons.

And don't forget to answer the latest Poll...

Fear - Can we Live with it?

I have been thinking alot about the decisions I make.  About the feelings that go into the decisions I make.  About the feelings that go on, when I make a decision.  There is one feeling that is always there.

FEAR

Even when I think that it's not, its hanging out in the background, lying like a tiger, waiting to pounce.  I don't think that I have always been this way, and I have come along way, baby.  But it is still there.  Until recently, I didn't realize just how much fear was really in me.

You know what?  I am tired of living in fear.  Tired of worrying about what may happen.  Tired of not doing the right thing.  Tired of worrying about the Moron.  Tired.

Fear can be paralyzing.  Fear can be crippling.  And fear can keep your senses sharp.

Tell you what.  I have come such a long way, might as well go the distance.  I may not never fully forget what it feels like to be in the clutches of a Moron - but I sure as hell control that I am gonna do everything in my power to never be there again.

Every now and again I get relapses of that fear.  Especially when there are dangerous Morons out there just lurking.  But I am tired of being a Victim.

I can recall that about a year after I left the Moron, a friend's husband said these words to me:
"I have noticed that you walk taller, hold your head up, and look me in the eye when I talk to you now".
How blown away was I when I heard that.  He described me as mouse-like, and I have never forgotten it.  I don't ever want to be that way again.

I cannot control what life throws at me, but I sure as hell can control how I react to it.  And eventhough I may still have fear based reactions - they will NOT stop me from what I need to do.

How do you live with your fears?

Morons Don't just Spontaneously Combust

Boy wouldn't that be something to see?  But then think of the Moronic splatter left for us to clean up...just like a Moron - leaving us with a mess to clean up afterwards.

At the same time, Morons don't just erupt from nowhere.  They usually come with a whole line of Moronic extended family.  At least mine did.

The Moron was more or less from the small spit and miss town we lived in, having grown up there.  Where his sister and his parents lived.  She was a couple of years older that the Moron, and was a single mom to a wonderful little boy. He was such a nice kid.

The sister had always told me such horrific stories of the father of her child - one including him shooting a shotgun after her while she was running down the street.  I was always in awe of her view towards her Moron, and how she appeared to have such a pleasant view of him and insisted he truly was such a "nice guy".

I know now, she was in complete denial.  And that was how she handled her abuse.  I used to think she was such a better person than I, forgiving him and such, for the horrendous things he put her through, then trusting him with their child.  I know now, it was denial and fear, that made her think and do these things.  And even after all that has transpired between us, I really just feel sorry for her.  And saddened that she still, after all these years, is unable to see the truth before her eyes. (More about her later)

There was also a younger sister, who pretty much had disassociated from the family, moved to the BIG city, and started her own life there.  It saddens me to think that even she stooped to their level during the divorce - but, I guess blood is thicker than water.

But the piece de resistance is the mother,  The Queen Biotch.  It truly amazes me the gall and lack of class that some people have.  The apple definitely didn't fall far from the tree - in this case.

I used to actually feel sorry for her, and gave her such latitude, in the beginning.  After hearing the horror stories of how her first husband (the Moron's father) had treated her.  And all that he did to her and their children.

Now I just am saddened and angry.  Sad that she allowed such horrible things happen to her children, and that she had endured such fear.  Angry because she did not utilize the opportunity to develop understanding, healing and growth to overcome her ordeal.  Instead she just perpetuated it.

Angry that not only did she allow her children to be hurt in so many ways (including her daughters to be raped and molested by her brother) but also allow them to hurt innocents, and eventually put my daughter at risk.

Lastly there is the Moron's step father.  Ironically I liked him the least in the beginning, and the most in the end.  He is a simple, selfish, deluded, money hungry tool.  But in the end, what he is to your face, he is to your back.  He makes no excuses for who he is - other than show you up front who he is.  In the end I gotta respect him for that.  Amid a family of people who hide and manipulate under the covers of being the "nice guy", he ironically has earned my respect for being who he is.

What is your extended family like?

I got an STD

So despite the fact that would mean I would be getting some action somewhere - which sadly has gotten very little - I am not talking about that sort of STD.  Laura from Through my Insanity and.. what else is there? bestowed this baby in me:

 

With this STD, there are rules. As with any STD carrier I feel the need to share and to pass on some STD's.  Here are the rules for this particular one:

1. Make up ONE totally ridiculous story about yourself that is a complete rip-off from a movie. It can be as long or short as you want; clean or crass as you want.
2. Pass it on to whomever you feel is deserving of this STD – or accept it and keep it for yourself; it’s your blog – it’s your choice.
3. If you choose to accept this STD, please link your acceptance post back to Adventuresin Estrogen and to the person who gave you your STD.
4.Use the acronym “STD” as much as possible within your post (send SEO’s into a tale spin)

SO, here is my STD limerick....

I once had a friend who had crabs
and scratched all day long in his 'gnads
He slept around alot
and didn't know where he got
those itchy little cads.

I pass along this lovely award to Sherry at  Messy Mind.

Have a great STD & Moronfree day :)

Morons are Everywhere

Been back and forth and all around the place with work these days.  Remember I said that my boss reminded me so much of my Moron?

Should have listened to my gut....

Good news I am one job down and hopefully will never have to deal with him again.  Unfortunately I also found out how fleeting some friendships are, especially work ones and those associated with the ole dollar.  I am always amazed how many people choose money over people, integrity, truth...

So one job down - but at least I have two other ones.  It was beginning to be quite tiring to work all of them.  But as a single mom, what can you do?

So I have some really exciting things planned.... so stay tuned...

This last little bit of re-shuffling has taught me I have to go with my gut more, and focus and the things that truly matter to me.


I have a few questions for my readers:

How do you single parents deal with the bread earning/parenting balance?

What has been your hardest hurdle after leaving your abusive relationship?

Do you feel you have a finer tuned Morondar (radar for abusers)?

Latest Poll

Here are the results of our latest Poll. From the 17 that voted, only 3 of you DIDN't have a child with a Moron....very sad.... but at least we aren't alone!!!

DID YOU HAVE A CHILD WITH A MORON?

Now I wonder what that says about us ?!?!?!

My FIrst REAL Mother's Day at Last...

Awoken by the tiny pitter patter of little feet, and a dive bomb into my bed, then a zillion Happy Mommy's day kisses; I am reminded of my very first Mother's Day, and how vastly different life is, now.

When my Lil Pixie was born, I was so excited to be a mother.  It was the most amazing thing I had ever done - and I think I have done a few amazing things in this life...

When the first Mother's Day rolled around, I woke up to an empty house.  No note, no clue where the Moron had gone, or my Lil Pixie. Thoughtfulness along with tact and well, a heart, were never things the Moron could ever be accused of by those who truly knew him.

The diaper bag was gone, along with a few bags of my frozen milk (I had enough milk to feed an army).  I knew why the Moron liked that I pumped my breast milk... at least he took some of it with him.  I could be thankful for at least that!!

Dinnertime rolled around, and still no sign of them.  Late that night they came back, her fast asleep.  My first mother's day missed - I am sure part of his plans to punish me something or other.  Many tears were shed that day.

My second Mother's day we were separated too.  The Moron managed to get his court ordered visitation on Mother's day - and once again I was alone on a day that meant so much to me.  Many more tears shed.

For many years, this was what I was left with.  My being alone on Mother's Day.  Even after our huge court battle, he had managed to get his court ordered visitation, flying her across the country, always for this special day.  The Moron's vengeance runs deep.

Never once receiving a Mother's Day present, never once hearing those tiny pitter-pattering feet or receiving those award-winning Mommy's day kisses.  Until today.

Today I have to work, and was feeling a little down.  Down at having to work one of my many jobs today.  As a single mom struggling to make ends meet (as I am sure many of you know) I am laboured with working two fulltime jobs, as well as one part time one.

I was having a small pitty party for myself, until I remembered how far I have come.  How far we have come.  Both literally and figuratively.  I have gained my freedom.  I have a life again.  In some sense, I have been reborn.  And although today is a day made up from Hallmark cards and the flower corporations, it does hold significance for me.

And thanks to an amazing kindergarten teacher, I even went on a treasure hunt for an amazing Mother's Day present.  In the end, life isn't so bad, and the few hours missed on this glorious day, for work, just helps to fund our freedom.

Hope all of you have a glorious and Moronfree Mother's Day - I know I will :)

The universe has a plan...

No matter how random things might appear to you, the universe always has a plan...

Do Morons Bear Morons?

This is a question that I have been pondering for some time now.  Being the mom of a little one, and her daddy is a Moron - does that give her greater chance of being one, or choosing one for herself?

Abuse is often the gift that keeps on giving.  You are what you know, and you act out what is familiar to you.

I had a counsellor once tell me that it took 5 generations to break the cycle of abuse. Five. Wow, my Lil Pixie doesn't have a chance...

I'd like to think that I have learned so much about abuse Morons and myself in the process, and am providing her with better tools to make better decisions than I did.  I'd like to think that I am emulating a life of a stronger, more confident, more aware woman.  One that will never be oppressed or be a victim, again.

Perhaps this is just the old nature versus nurture question, dressed up in different clothes...

One of my favourite sayings is; when we know better, we do better.

But must we learn from our own mistakes?  Can we learn from others, as well?

As a mother I can only hope that I will provide my child with a firm foundation so that she can make good, solid decisions for herself.  In the end, that is all any mother can hope for.

On the other side of the coin, is the Moron the result of bad parenting?  Is abuse a role that was played in his life that he emulated?  And at what point does he take on the responsibilities of his own actions - despite his upbringing?

These are just a few of the things that are rolling around in my head tonight, as I fight sleep - more, sleep fights me!

What are your thoughts on the subject?

DO Morons bear Morons?  I would totally love to hear what you feel on all or some of the above...

Anyone Else Ready For Spring?

Anyone Else Ready For Spring, because I sure am!  As I sit here typing this, my front lawn is slowly being covered in snow...

Don't get me wrong, I love the white stuff - in fact I feel I am blessed to live in a place that has 4 distinct seasons, I consider myself having the best of all worlds :)

But as I get ready for work this morning, I long for the birds chirping, the cool grass in my feet, and the sun gracing us with its presence.

I will do my sun dance on the way to work today...

How's the weather in your world?

If it Looks Like a Moron...

I had a meeting the other day with my new boss. This normally would be a painless experience, except that he has such a very strong resemblance to the Moron.

It was very interesting as I struggled with many things. First, trying to pay attention to what my new boss was saying, rather than trying to concentrate on just how and why he seemed so familiar to me.  This ever happen to you?

Try as I might to concentrate on what he was saying, my mind kept wandering to how I made the connection with him and the Moron.  Was he displaying subtle hints of abuse?  Was my super-strength Moron detector, sniffing out some Moroness??

Trying to wrap my head around what exactly was causing the familiarity to the Moron. Yes, there was a bit of the physical resemblance, tall, skinny, balding (Friar Tuck style), but was that all there was?

I guess time will tell, why exactly my Spidey senses are tingling when my new Boss is around.  For once though, I will trust my instincts and go into full alert mode.  Someone has to earn my trust, now.

So, am I the only one that this has happened to?  Has anyone else had this familiarity to one of their Morons? 

EQUALS?

Domestic violence and equality, think 007 could help us?

Abuse is Abuse - No Matter the Package it Comes In

There are many different types of abuse.  Although they take on different forms, the result is quite often exactly the same. The victims of abuse follow the same paths, and need to heal their wounds.

Often physical abuse is the easiest to spot - as there are visible bruises and scars.  The scars from emotional and psychological abuse, are not visible to the naked eye, and are often hardest to heal.

Here is just a small reminder out there that ALL abuse, is abuse.  Abuse needs to STOP.

Everyone deserves respect and a life free from control and fear - in whatever form that comes in.

One of my favourite quotes...

"To exist in this vast universe for a speck of time is the great gift of life. Our tiny sliver of time is our gift of life. It is our only life. The universe will go on, indifferent to our brief existence, but while we are here we touch not just part of that vastness, but also the lives around us. Life is the gift each of us has been given. Each life is our own and no one else’s. It is precious beyond all counting. It is the greatest value we can have. Cherish it for what it truly is... Your life is yours alone. Rise up and live it."
 --Terry Goodkind

Sometimes it takes someone else to say what we know in our heart, and say it with eloquence and beauty.

What are some of your favourite quotes?

What's In A Name?

My Lil Pixie was the most amazing thing, I had ever been blessed with, and man o man, nothing makes you feel important (in the responsible for another lil human bean, sense) then having a newborn.

After me and the baby were released from the hospital, the Moron took a little bit of (paid) time off work.  I think he was really feeling awkward at this new little thing taking my time, energy and attention.

The Moron was NOT happy about all the crying at nightime, either.  After being up for 4 days straight, I took him up on his offer to stay up with her in the night - thank goodness I never really slept, as I had to rescue her - I thought he was really gonna lose it!

But what the Moron found, was how much attention he got when he took the lil Pixie to town!  He hit the jackpot there!

I would sometimes wake up to find the lil Pixie and him gone, not knowing when they would come back. No wonder he was pushing me to pump my milk, so he could be part of the feeding experience.

I had kept my maiden name (perhaps my inner self just knew) but he had said that he didn't care whose last name she had (although was adamant about if it was a boy it would be his).  In the hospital the babies are always named baby "insert mother's last name here" .

At the lil Pixie's first doctor's appointment, she was called by baby "   ".  The Moron freaked. He truly scared me that day.  The nurse was shocked, and recoiled in horror, as he swung the computer around, he made her change it to his last name.

From that point on - the Moron made a point to let me know that she was not mine, but his...

And the award goes to....

What a lovely surprise to wake up to another Blog award from Cinnamon www.cinfulcinnamon.com so here is my shout out to her, thanx you sexy kitten :)

You guys need to go visit her, and especially find out how she got her name. Very cool.

So 2 Stylish Blogger awards in a couple weeks - am I Super Stylish or what??

And then there were three...

The birth of my Lil Pixie was not an easy one - though I have heard of far worse.  After 24+ hours of labour she was showing signs of stress and my body just didn't want to dilate.  I was destined to have an emergency c-section.

If you have never experienced or heard of one it is a strange experience, but I guess the whole birthing thing is rather strange, too.  My epidural finally took, and the Moron apparently signed some papers for me, and I was being wheeled down to the OR.

This is what I recall...

There was a sheet draped across my belly, vertically, so I couldn't see what was going on. In fact I couldn't see anyone as they were all down "there" doing what needed to be done.  The Moron wanted to leave me and go be there too, but I pleaded with him to stay (he was up by my head) as he was the only person I could see and talk to, and I was scared.

I could feel someone cut into me, in a kind of "T" motion, and then someone rummaging inside me.  Then a male exclaimed "I can't find the baby".  Which made me kinda worried cuz during an exam earlier a doctor (perhaps the same one?) had proclaimed that he couldn't find my cervix.  At this point I was really starting to wonder about the medical staff...

A little bit later I heard a baby cry and a female cried, "it's a girl!".  Someone came and plumped a little wrinkled, moving raisin on my right shoulder, and then it and the Moron left.  Leaving me alone with this draped sheet, and whoever else was behind it - I could not tell.

Through all of this no one spoke directly to me.  Then a male yelled "I can't stop the bleeding, " and the next thing I remember I was all alone, no sheet, in the middle of this very cold room, shivering to death.  I don't recall ever being so cold, nor trembling this violently.  I could not control it.  In what felt like hours, a nurse finally came and place warm towels or something on me - though the shaking did not subside.

I think I went to sleep at one point, rather, drifted unconscious, and when I came to I was being given some sort of pill.  With this medication came laboured breathing and some pretty vivid hallucinations.  I vaguely remember meeting a baby - but demanding the Moron to bring me the right one as mine had blue eyes and blond hair.  This black haired, black-eyed Eskimo looking baby was not mine and she had been switched!

More pills were given to me, which sent my heart racing and further trouble breathing.  I felt like I was suffocating and was convinced I was dying.  The nurses laughed at me.  My heart started to slow down - really s-l-o-w.  They said I was a drama Queen and that everything was fine.  I felt my life force draining away.

I felt like I was treading water as fast as I could but could barely keep my head above water.  I didn't think I was going to make it.  I had just given birth to this beautiful Lil Pixie - and I wouldn't be able to watch her grow.

Frantically I grabbed the Moron and tried to tell him everything I wanted him to know about her growing up, how to care for her, how to love her, how to protect her, her first words, her first steps, her first period, her first date, her wedding...

I was then given more pills, and the sensation of dying came stronger.

One young nurse, just coming on to shift, came in to see me. I was crying and implored her to take care of my baby.  She left.  Turns out she went to her medical books.  Turns out I was having an allergic reaction to the meds they had given me.  She quickly came in with some Doctors and pumped me full of something to reverse the affects.

An emergency cesarean, 2 blood transfusions, 12 hour allergic reaction to the medication (and in their wisdom, a second dose of it) and 2 days after the Lil Pixie was born, I was able to finally "be" with her.  She was the most beautiful little shriveled raisin I had ever seen.  And I swore I would protect her with my life.  I was going to give her father, the Moron, one year to be a good father.  I felt I owed her that much, a chance to have a family, everybody wants that.  The Moron had love in him,  afterall, I had loved him for a reason.

And then there were three...

Pregnancy with a Moron - Part 5

If you are just joining in, you catch up with Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. Then this next entry might make a little more sense. My nine months of being pregnant felt like years (as I am sure for some of you as well) but mine had a deeper sense of time, as my child (my little Pixie) was forcing my Authentic Self to be seen.

SO, in my last month of pregnancy, everything became crystal clear for me. Sort of like all the illusions of life were gone, and the Pixie was giving me truth goggles.

But all of this was a lot to take in, it's like standing in a fog but seeing clearly. My conscious self wasn't sure what to believe, as I had been told for so many years that I exaggerated everything, and made things up, or blew things out of proportion.

The Moron could see a shift, so he started working heavily on my family. I learned later, that at this time he would tell people that I was starting to lose it. He would call up my family, out of feigned concern, and say that he was "really worried about me" and was afraid that I would cause harm to myself, and ultimately the baby.

Fortunately one person out of all of this saw thru it, and slowly convinced the rest of the family of my sanity.

Along with this new found clarity, I also had all of the hormones whipping around me (like every other pregnant lady).  And it turns out you can get post-partum depression - before - you have given birth. I can remember talking to my father (my parents lived on the other side of the country) and crying because I was so scared and I had no idea how I could support this baby as the Moron had stated it was up to me to provide for the baby.

After all, he was working so hard just to provide a roof over our head, and food on the table, the least I could do is provide meager diapers etc...

I was totally stressed out - and of course on sick leave, and worried about the baby... and I was crying for what seemed to be weeks at a time.

My father at this time became quite worried about me, and had a plan to drive and pick me up and bring me home where I would have the baby there.

At the last minute, I unconsciously shut down and put up a wall for my survival, and once again chose to disbelieve what I truly felt, and forced myself back on the path of denial, and the false belief that everything was just fine.

I was apparently very convincing, as my father called off the trip, and I laughed it off as hormones.  Weeks later my mother arrived on my due date. The night she arrived at my house, I went into labour...

Got Style ?

Sandbox Gems gave me this delightful award, and I am tickled pink that she even thought of me, thank you.  You should definitely check out her site, she has the cutest shih-tzu's and makes some creative and beautiful jewellery.

SO now I have to share 7 things about myself...

1. I love pajamas, and have often worn them to the grocery store and to school.
2. I have bouts of insomnia, and am a total night owl.
3. I have a beautiful view of the stars on my ceiling :)
4. I really do NOT like ants!!!
5. I often feel I was born in the wrong century...
6. I am a vivid dreamer and passionate eater.
7. I feel at peace when I am running.

It's a New Year

Beginnings are great.  They are a great time to take stock, plan, and re-evaluate the past. They are a fresh slate, a clean start, a chance to become the outcome we want.

The hard part is sticking to the plan. NOT reverting back to old ways, and staying the course. But, we are talking about beginnings, now.

Every year I make New Years Resolutions. Sometimes they stick, or at least partially stick - sometimes, not so much.

Here are my resolutions for this year :

1. Embrace my Suzie Qness.
2. Celebrate me.
3. Become self-full.
4. Try new things.
5. Stay consistent (blog included - trying to do at very least one post a week)
6. Want less, utilize more of what I have.
7. Focus on the Positives.
8. Follow my passions.
9. Speak my truth.
10. Enjoy Life.

Some of these I have got going on, already, just a re-affirmation of the process. Some of these I need a little work on. But afterall, we are all works in progress, right?

Hope everyone had a great Holiday.

What are your New Years Resolutions?