The Devastating Effects Of Parental Alienation, Or Is It?

 

I had no idea, 21 months and 19 days ago, that parental alienation existed. I had never before heard the term, and, to be honest, I’m still not entirely convinced that is what’s happening.

Yes, I am physically separated from my children by 279 miles. I’m in Ohio; they moved to Indiana with their Dad in June 2008. Yes, my children were physically isolated from me from October 2008 until July 31, 2010 – 656 days of isolation, in fact, for reasons still unknown to me. Yes, their mail was intercepted; gifts were not given to them; repeatedly, phone calls went unanswered. Yes, I was continually told that my children were ‘happier than they’ve ever been’ and ‘they don’t need you’ and ‘you need to back off.’

No, they weren’t allowed to initiate phone contact – they still aren’t. No, they weren’t allowed to send me a Mother’s Day card, birthday card, or acknowledge my existence on major holidays – they still aren’t. No, they weren’t allowed to send me school photos, copies of their report cards, or in any way keep me updated as to significant happenings in their lives. No, I am not listed as their Mother in school records, as their Father - the one who enrolled them in that Indiana school district- purposefully left me off, instead listing his then-girlfriend, now new wife, as my children’s other parent.

In the beginning, however, they were allowed to openly express their love and affection for me, and did so during our daily, and then weekly, phone calls. In the beginning, they were allowed to come home, although it was not even close to what my ex promised when he left the state. In the beginning, our phone conversations and time together was relaxed and without tension, but as time progressed, and I was relegated to only infrequent, sporadic telephone contact, I began noticing subtle changes in the girls’ demeanor.

Shortly after the New Year 2009, for example, my once loving and expressive daughters began to sound emotionless and reserved, spoke in flat, monotone voices, and only answered my questions with ‘yes’ or ‘no’. That is how they continue to respond today. They feel, for whatever reason, they cannot elaborate on any particular topic. Asking them a simple question, such as, ‘what did you have for breakfast?’ produces an incredible amount of anxiety in them – long pauses – as if they are afraid to answer. Often, I change the subject in an attempt to break the silence and keep the conversation flowing, but the undertone I get is ‘get me off this phone!’ Several times I questioned them, asking ‘are you feeling okay?’ ‘Is there something wrong?’ ‘Did something happen that I need to know about?’ And the answer is always the same, “I’m just tired!” While that may have worked once or twice, it didn’t sit well with me a year ago, and certainly doesn’t sit well with me today.

In May 2009, their behavior advanced to yelling at me over the phone, hanging up on me, and refusing to answer when I called back. I was horrified, of course, and confused, hurt – literally speechless. I sat in complete silence, clenching the phone with a dropped jaw, replaying the conversation in my mind. I knew I hadn’t said anything that would even come close to deserving that type of inappropriate response. I had no idea as to the source of their hostility, but they certainly perceived something I said, or did, as a slight against them.

Reaching out to their Dad was basically unproductive, as I was told they were ‘hormonal’ and Kara was ‘upset’ because the card I sent her wasn’t as good as the one I sent to her sister. I didn’t believe it then; certainly, I don’t believe it now. Tearfully, I pleaded with him for his support. I knew if anybody could get through to them, it would be him.

Little did I know, he already had.

We had a court order in effect. My Ex has, and had, actual knowledge of its terms. But, he continued to encroach on my parenting time with the girls – for eight months he deliberately scheduled countless family events and social activities for the girls during my parenting time – before finally sending me an email last summer informing me that until I took him back to court, I wouldn’t be allowed to see them, but that I should feel free to call them whenever I wanted.

Again, I sat dismayed, and, apparently oblivious to what was happening. Once again, I reached out to him by phone and email, begging, pleading with him to do the right thing for our daughters. He laughed. He was arrogant and self-righteous, and told me I needed to get on with my life and not worry about HIS kids. They are fine, he said, happier than they’ve ever been.

When he was notified that I had filed the necessary paperwork to not only enforce our court order, but to have him held in contempt for purposeful interference with my parenting time (among other things), his initial reaction was, “oh, that’s nice. What took you so long?” When it became evident that I was not going to dismiss contempt against him, despite several attempts on his part to manipulate me into submission, he became infuriated and began threatening to move the girls once again, change his phone number, and completely cut me out of their lives. That’s when I filed for full custody.

This ordeal has been pure torture. I feel, at times, like a piece of my soul has been ripped from deep within me; everyday, I feel their absence in some profound way and long to see them, touch them, kiss and hug them. At times, the pain is so thick it is hard to breathe.

I feel an enormous amount of guilt, too, because I did not have the resources available to secure an attorney or file paperwork sooner. For almost a year I felt hopeless to protect my children from their poisonous environment, and those highly charged emotions took a toll on the life I still had to live. Every single day felt never ending, especially during the dark and gloomy winter while my husband was laid off. I felt as though I were sinking bit by bit into a deep, dark hole. I held my breathe and hung on for dear life, praying for strength to get through the dark winter, praying for wisdom, praying to be guided in the right direction, praying for the patience to make it through till spring.

Not knowing if the girls’ behavior was related to age or environment, I began researching pre-teen behaviors, bought and read parenting books, and then came across an article about parental alienation. I discovered a wealth of information and utilized the recommended resources to keep in contact with my daughters until I was in a better position – actions that should have reduced the amount of anxiety they experienced during phone calls. However, that didn’t seem to help much either. I later found out that the weekly cards and letters had not been delivered, and my lack of phone contact meant to decrease anxiety only heightened anger and the ex used this to further his twisted agenda.

While I don’t believe my daughters suffer from parental alienation syndrome – because they are capable of showing warmth and love when they come home, despite their lack of interest and disrespect over the telephone - I do believe their father has been engaging in parental alienation tactics for well over a year in an attempt to garner their complete loyalty. I can also say with a fair amount of certainty, that he is well on his way to accomplishing his goal of permanently removing me from their lives if the situation remains unchanged.

I realize that I am partially culpable for the situation we all currently face. A court battle is the last thing I wanted and I avoided it for far too long. My failure to act sooner has caused my children to lose nearly two years of valuable experiences with me, while allowing their father and stepmother free access to warp their minds, steal their souls, and corrupt their character. I was too passive. I failed to respond swiftly and effectively. I failed to take a firm stand the very first time my ex interfered with my parenting time. Of course I had my reasons, but they seem so incredibly frivolous at this moment.

Oprah once said that “you teach people how to treat you.” While I may have taught my ex that I was an easy target by being too compliant with him when it came to my kids, I definitely hope to teach my daughters the power of conviction - the importance of fighting for what you believe in, and that it’s never too late to do the right thing.

656 Days As An Alienated Parent

656 Days.

That’s how long it had been.

Before the beginning of my summer vacation with the girls this year -which was only made possible by enforcing an already valid court order - my Ex and his new wife staged a prolonged and tearful farewell in the parking lot of the outlet mall in Angola, IN, during which they assured the girls that, “it will be okay, love birds…you will return to your real family soon.” After cautiously, and tearfully, walking the five or so steps to where I was anxiously waiting, looking back over their shoulders several times in the process, I was finally able to embrace my daughters, who had grown and physically changed so much in the 656 days we were kept apart. All I wanted to do in that moment was study their much more mature features and embrace them. As we were standing between the two vehicles, Rosie (their stepmother) approached us with a patronizing look on her face, and just had to rub the girls’ cheek one last time and say, “really, it will be okay, lovebirds!” The look on her face when her eyes met mine said I have no idea why they are acting like this…really, but look…I’m doing my part to make their transition easier.

It’s bad enough that this woman, the stepmother, spends considerably more time with my kids than I do, but she also spends significantly more time with them than their father does. The girls see their dad some evenings, when he isn’t traveling the world, and most weekends. That’s it. I am resentful and exasperated. He has resorted back to his old ways, the way he was during our marriage, and his children were not a priority then, either. His priorities were his interests (playing pool, going to the bar, watching movies, and playing video games) and his work. We didn’t rank high on his list of priorities then – in fact, we were a bother to him - and I can clearly see that the girls do not rank high on his list of priorities now. I am angry that he put his wife in charge of raising my children when I am fully capable, willing, and able to do so.

When I first became a non-custodial Mom, I knew my relationship with my daughters would be different as we navigated the unfamiliar path and restructured our lives to face the challenges ahead. I knew that such changes would require innovation and ingenuity on my part, as well as a substantial commitment by my Ex and me, to ensure the lines of communication remained untainted, informative, and interesting. I also knew it was a critical transition in my girls’ lives and, if not handled responsibly, I would be the one at fault.

I didn’t want it then, I do not want it now, nor did I ask for, such a transition to take place, but I felt compelled to go along with what the girls said they wanted – to move to Indiana with their Dad and try it out for one year. I knew that if I held them back, they would eventually come to resent me for not considering their input; I also knew, however, that if they went, and hated it, they would blame me for allowing them to make such a decision when they weren’t quite mature enough to comprehend the consequences. I felt caught in a catch 22.

His wish, I now believe, was to move to a new state where he could begin a new life – a place where nobody knew him, as a lot of folks from around here came to know the real man and didn’t much care to associate with him. I now believe he acted with considerable forethought while planning his move – a move that included extravagant promises that were never kept and overindulgent bribery of our children - with the sole intent to erase me from their lives to make room for a new life of his own with a new woman. I believe he felt, and feels, that he is entitled to have the perfect family, the one he obviously didn’t have with me, and I am a constant reminder of his past ‘mistake.’ Every time I call. Every email I send. Every letter that shows up in his mailbox - a reminder. Every attempt or request to see my girls – a reminder. My involvement complicates his life. And hers. It’s much easier to act as if I just don’t exist. It’s much easier to ‘show the girls’ that their Mother is dispensable. It’s much easier to tell the girls that their Mother is an intruder who should be approached with extreme trepidation. His message, although not apparent at the time, communicates to me now that he believes his relationship with our children is more important than mine.

But how does one go about meeting such objectives when a parent is still involved, at least on some level?


The answer is simple and complex: by physically isolating the children in so that they have no way of deciphering the truth for themselves, by employing your entire extended family, and that of your new spouse, to actively and destructively criticize the other parent and make you out to be perfect, by using ‘religion’ as an example of how the children shall obey and fear you, by restricting access to the children’s communication, screening phone calls, throwing away mail addressed specifically to the children, and a multitude of other vicious things. Engaging in these vile behaviors will eventually take a toll on the children, who will understandably feel hurt, rejected, angry, and abandoned by the other parent, which will, in turn, make them even more dependent on you – the parent who breached every duty to the children by dripping poison into their minds. And, for that, there is a special place in hell waiting.

After all, a parent who truly has the children’s best interest at heart, and supports the children’s fundamental right to have a relationship with the other, can do so many things to bridge the gap. Military spouses do it for their children all the time. My toddler, who will be three in November, hasn’t forgotten that he has two big sisters – and they moved before he turned one. Why? Because I left their pictures on the fridge and we talked about them all the time. He can point to their photos and tell which sister is which.

As a noncustodial Mom, I expected that not too much would change, but everything changed.

I never imagined, though, that my relationship with my daughters would be infected with the poison of a venomous ex - tainted in such a significant manner that resulted in my not seeing my children for 656 days.

A lot of damage has been done in 656 days.


How does one even begin to make up for 656 lost days?

The ‘STEP’ in Stepparenting

 

When my husband proposed to me on Friday, August 18, 2006, he did so in the presence of my two daughters, who were then six and eight. He had mentioned earlier in the day that he had something important to discuss with all of us, but me, being the neurotic woman I am, jumped to the wrong conclusion and told him any request to discuss personal issues with my daughters had to go through me first. he laughed, got down on one knee, and popped the question. I sat on the sofa, stunned and speechless, staring at the little grey velvet box, and before I could muster a ‘yes’, my six-year-old answered, “Yes, we will marry you!” She then excitedly looked at me and squealed, “Say yes, Mom!”

A few days later during breakfast I overheard the girls having a very intense conversation with Jimmy. “So, when you marry my mom, does that mean you are going to be my dad?” My six-year-old questioned. “No Carley,” piped in Kara, “he will be our stepdad. “ “Well,” Carley paused, “Can we call you Dad after you marry our mom?” “Yeah, are we supposed to call you dad now?” Kara asked nonchalantly as she scarfed down her pancakes. “no!” Jimmy stated factually, “You already have a dad and you don’t need another one. I will be your stepdad and your friend, but I will not be your dad!”

And that is the relationship that my husband has carried with my daughters for the past four years – one of friend, confidant, and stepfather. They love and respect him, as he does them. The three of them have their own relationship outside of me, often playing, talking, running errands, and laughing together. I am the heavy, you know, the one who dispenses the discipline to keep everyone in line and the household running smoothly – at least when they are home with us. My husband has not once overstepped his bounds, nor has he ever tried to take the place of the girls’ dad.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Shortly after Jim and I married, my ex-husband and his year-long-live in-girlfriend broke up and he went through a pretty rough readjustment period. Jim and I stepped in and helped him out, taking the girls extra time so he could get his life back on track. We included him in countless family dinners, birthday parties, Holidays, and Christmas. When his license was suspended for DUI, he called my husband for rides. When he was particularly depressed, or bored, he called my husband to go out for a beer. Jim and I were of the mindset that it was better for the girls when all of the adults got along, and so, we included the EX as part of our extended, albeit unconventional, family.

For about a year, we all got along really well – not that we weren’t without conflict every now and again – but we worked harder to get through those periods because of our common goal: raising happy, well adjusted daughters with healthy self esteem.

I was happy – I had a great husband, a comfortable home, two beautiful, secure daughters who witnessed the adults in their lives co-parenting effectively, and a new baby boy. I genuinely wanted the same  for my ex husband who, at that time, was aimlessly looking for outside influences to fill the void in his life. I figured he would remarry eventually, but I also thought it would be to a local woman who would embrace me and welcome me into her life just as Jim had done with my ex husband. In my idealistic mind, we would all participate in raising the girls together and continue to celebrate family events, as… well - a family!

My EX did meet a woman – five hours away – at a company picnic in late 2007. Now, if you’ve been a regular reader of my blog then you know of all the drama that has followed as a result of the EX’s move to Indiana in June 2008, and I do not need to rehash it. Long story short (if you’re just now following my journey) I agreed to let our daughters move with him for one school year, but shortly after he took them out of state, he and his then-girlfriend, Rosie, began disrupting my parenting time and subsequently cut me completely out, except for phone calls. He and Rosie married earlier this year and she is now the Stepmomster to my daughters.

In May, after a particularly troubling phone conversation with my daughters, I shed enough tears to fill a bathtub, and used language that could make a trucker blush during extensive post-phone call conversations with family members who gave me a much needed reality check and swift kick in the ass. I realized I had to act right then to protect my daughters from further emotional and psychological damage, and to preserve our relationship. I could no longer wait until I had enough money, or afford the attorney’s retainer. If I did not step up right then and advocate for my children, despite my lack of legalese, I knew I would lose them forever to a man who had already failed them. That thought propelled me into immediate action and nothing else mattered – not the lack of resources, not the lack of a legal education, not the fear and insecurity that I would fail to effectively and rationally argue my case in court, which had paralyzed me for far too long. After some confusion regarding jurisdiction, I was able to file the necessary paperwork, locally, against the EX for three counts of contempt of court and sole custody. I had a pretrial hearing at the end of June, and this matter was scheduled for trial. In the meantime, I was able to secure an attorney and make a promise to my daughters – that THIS summer, they would indeed be coming home, at least for a little while.

I am happy to report that, thanks to a great attorney, I was able to keep that promise to my daughters. They were only home for two weeks, but being able to finally use all five senses with them after being refused access for 18 months, was incredibly emotional. We shared a lot of laughs, and just as many tears. They were initially hesitant, but relaxed after the third day and freely showed their love and affection.

Sadly, though, it was not the Mother and child reunion I had dreamt of for so long. After being held hostage in the State of Indiana with their Dad and Stepmomster for 18 months, without the ability to distinguish truth from lies for themselves, I understand their lack of confidence in our relationship and their confusion about how I am supposed to fit into their lives.

One of the biggest issues I faced while they were home was their insistence that Rosie is their Mother – not their stepmother - their Mother. They seem to have lost all memory of the eight and ten years, respectively, that we shared together before their relocation. Kara, now 11-years-old, told me, “everyone says I look just like Rosie!” WTF? I actually had to get their baby books out and show them pictures of all of us throughout the years. I went through all their old school papers and showed them Mother’s Day poems they had written to me, as well as their grade cards and class photos. We drove around the neighborhood and I pointed out the home we shared when they were toddlers, the home we shared before they moved and the proximity to their Dad’s apartment. It was only then that they seemed able to comprehend bits and pieces of their previous life. That’s also the moment we had a family breakdown and cried together about all the time we have lost.

I was informed in that most vulnerable moment that they were told I did not want them, never asked to see them, and they were not allowed any mention of me in their house. They told me about the rules their “parents” had established for them, one being they needed to call their Mother and Father every morning while they were home with me. Whatever we did, wherever we went, I was told about Rosie. We went shopping and I heard, “Oh, Mom…I mean Rosie, would really like that!” We went out to eat and I heard, “My Mom, I mean Rosie, doesn’t like Olive Garden because it upsets her stomach!” or “Rosie taught me how to use the cracker for my crab legs!” We went to the mall one afternoon and I gave the girls money to buy a few incidentals on their own. Kara came running up to me as I was buying coffee, “Look! Look what I bought for my Mom,” she said while digging Bath and Body Works hand soap from her bag. Maybe it was only $5 bucks, but it was MY fucking $5 dollars and I was <thisclose> to throwing the bottle of soap across the mall. Instead, I smiled and told her that I was proud she had turned into such a thoughtful young lady.

I noticed the dark, long hair growing on Kara’s legs and mentioned that we should probably teach her to shave. She completely freaked out and told me Rosie said she wasn’t allowed to shave until she was 13. Then she got on the phone with her Dad and told him I was forcing her to shave her hairy legs! Supposedly, he told her she shouldn’t argue. She insisted that I get her ‘parents’ permission, even though she was excited to learn how to properly care for her hygiene needs, in so that she wouldn’t get in trouble when she went home. I asked her if her Dad or Rosie called me to get my permission before chopping off her long, beautiful hair. She said ‘No’. I then introduced her to the Lady Remington wet/dry electric shaver and taught her how to use it. She is in sixth grade, and we all know how cruel other kids can sometimes be. She decided to leave her razor with me because, she said, she thought it would be taken away when she went back to her Dad’s house.

I mentioned, once again, that I’d like to get Kara a cell phone that she and Carley can use to keep in touch with me. Although she can navigate a cell phone fairly well, and even used mine and her friend, Cassie’s, to send text and picture messages while she was home, she told me that Rosie said she couldn’t have a cell phone until she was a freshman in high school, as that was the rule for Rosie’s daughter and it wouldn’t be fair. I told Kara that those rules are to be made between her Dad and me…not Rosie.

I finally sat down with the girls for a family meeting of my own and set some boundaries. Topping the list was the whole ‘Mom vs. Stepmom’ labeling issue.

I feel the words “Mom” and “Dad” are a symbol of honor and connectedness. The titles have special meaning and should be reserved for the primary “Mother” and “Father”. I don’t know how the girls came to call Rosie their “Mother”, but I can pinpoint exactly when it started – December 2009 – during a phone call in which Kara informed me, “Guess what I bought my Mom for Christmas?” Prior to that, I was referred to as “Mom” and she was referred to as “Rosie”.

I completely understand that my daughters feel connected to Rosie; they felt connected to Jim, too, before they moved, but they never disrespected their Father by calling Jim ‘Dad’. They are of the opinion that they now have two Moms, and expressed a desire to continue calling Rosie their Mother. I explained that there is only room for one Mother in my house, and I am it. I asked that when they are with me, they do not refer to Rosie as their Mother. Instead, they should refer to her as their Stepmom or call her by name, Rosie. I think I heard a “whatever” from Kara, and an “okay, fine” from Carley…until they spoke with Rosie on the phone, and then it was, “Hi, Mom!”

Returning them to Indiana last weekend was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, aside from letting them go in the first place. I became painfully aware of just how emotionally damaged my daughters really are and just how long the healing journey will be. The moment the EX and his wife arrived, the girls’ demeanor toward us changed drastically and instantaneously. They did not feel comfortable hugging and kissing us goodbye, saying I love you – nothing. They immediately ran to their Dad and Rosie, and Kara, carrying the bottle of hand soap, proudly presented it to Rosie, “Here, Mom. I bought this for you!”

As you can probably guess, I am having a difficult time adjusting. It’s painful for me to entrust the care of my children to a woman I don’t know at all. I still have yet to be formally introduced to this woman, and we’ve seen one another a handful of times over the past two years. She refuses me access to her phone number because she doesn’t want the hassle of dealing with me, so the EX has said, which is bizarre since she is the one who cares for them in their Dad’s absence. She is a Mother too, which is why it’s difficult for me to trust her intentions are good when she hasn’t once tried to reach out to me, to get to know me, to keep me informed.

I can’t help but wonder what her motives are. Did she set out to take over my role as their Mother? Or is she just a little too enthusiastic, acting as her husband’s helpmate? I certainly feel as though a huge part of my life has been stolen. I feel as though my children were stolen and she is just as guilty as he is for concealing them for so long. What kind of woman does this? What kind of Mother does this to another Mother?

I did not abdicate my responsibilities and dump them into Rosie’s lap. I never asked for her help, nor do I need, or want, her help. The EX put her in this position. Following simple rules of etiquette could have gone a long way toward avoiding the misunderstandings and emotional blowups we currently face.

This woman currently has more influence in my children’s lives than I do, and it almost feels like we’ve traded positions. While she is busy driving my children to school, sharing meals with them, washing their clothes, teaching them how to cook, talking with them about bras, boobies, and periods, scheduling medical and dental appointments, instilling her beliefs and values, and attending parent-teacher conferences, I have been demoted to the role of ‘evil stepmother’ - the woman who disrupted their seemingly perfect family, the woman with whom the children have to go visit once a month, and spend time with during holidays and vacations.

There is a fine line between being a loving stepmother who has respect for the biological Mother, and being a power hungry bitch who thinks she gave birth to my kids after being in their lives for only two years.

There is a STEP in Stepparent for a reason…the woman needs to step back, step off, step down.

Truthfully, I feel that Rosie wants me out of the picture, so my EX, my girls, and she can be the perfect family. 

Let me make it perfectly clear – that’s NOT going to happen.

This court battle is far from over, hell – it hasn’t even begun yet.

Somebody Said…

 

…that a child is carried in its mother's womb for nine months.
Somebody does not know that a child is carried in its mother's heart forever.

 
…it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby.
Somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, normal is history.

…you learn how to be a mother by instinct.
Somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.

…being a mother is boring.
Somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.

…if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good."
Somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.

…"good" mothers never raise their voices.
Somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.

…you don't need an education to be a mother.
Somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.

…you can't love the fourth child as much as you love the first.
Somebody doesn't have four children.

…a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in a book.
Somebody never had a child stuff peas up his nose.

…the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery.
Somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten.

…a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back.
Somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.

…a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married.
Somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.

…a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home.
Somebody never had grandchildren.

…your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her.
Somebody isn't a mother.

I received this in an email and thought it worth sharing. Have a great weekend!

 

Wordless Wednesday: Rockin’ the Crocodile Tears

 

25 Things You Need To Know About Raising Boys

 

1) A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 2000 sq. ft. house 4 inches deep.
2) If you spray hair spray on dust bunnies and run over them with roller blades, they can ignite.
3) A 3-year old boy's voice is louder than 200 adults in a crowded restaurant.
4) If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42- pound boy wearing Batman underwear and a Superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20x20 room.
5) You should not throw baseballs up when the ceiling fan is on. When using a ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can hit a baseball a long way.
6) The glass in windows (even double-pane) doesn't stop a baseball hit by a ceiling fan.
7) When you hear the toilet flush and the words "uh oh", it's already too late.
8) Brake fluid mixed with Clorox makes smoke, and lots of it.
9) A six-year old boy can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36-year old man says they can only do that on Survivor.
10) Certain Lego's will pass through the digestive tract of a 4-year old boy.
11) Play dough and microwave should not be used in the same sentence.
12) Super glue is forever.
13) No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can't walk on water.
14) Pool filters do not like Jell-O.
15) VCR's do not eject "PB & J" sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do.
16) Garbage bags do not make good parachutes.
17) Marbles in gas tanks make lots of noise when driving.
18) You probably DO NOT want to know what that odor is.
19) Always look in the oven before you turn it on; plastic toys do not like ovens.
20) The fire department in New Buffalo, MI has a 5-minute response time.
21) The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earthworms dizzy.
22) It will, however, make cats dizzy.
23) Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.
24) 80% of women will pass this on to almost all of their friends, with or without kids.
25) 80% of men who read this will try mixing the Clorox and brake fluid.

Technorati Tags: Raising Boys,Parenting,Dennis the Menace,Humor

In Celebration of Motherhood

 

Some of the most magnificent women I know are phenomenal mothers – the epitome of everything a mother should be – and, at times, a painful reminder of everything I am not: a tower of strength, a port in the storm, a fountain of wisdom, a role model. I revere women who are able to glide through motherhood so effortlessly, never losing their sense of self (or sense of humor) in the process.

As mothers, we face an eclectic mix of emotions – from grueling and fretful to joyous and enchanting – emotions often experienced consecutively throughout the course of one day. Motherhood requires a selfless spirit, lifelong dedication, the ability to love unconditionally, and a deep sense of determination to protect and shield our children from harm - it’s definitely not for the faint of heart.

In honor of Mother’s Day, I am dedicating a few of my favorite quotes to all the truly remarkable women who have enriched your life.

Have a very happy Mother’s Day!

• I cannot forget my mother. She is my bridge. When I needed to get across, she steadied herself long enough for me to run across safely. -Renita Weems
• She is my first, great love. She was a wonderful, rare woman - you do not know; as strong, and steadfast, and generous as the sun. She could be as swift as a white whiplash, and as kind and gentle as warm rain, and as steadfast as the irreducible earth beneath us.-D H Lawrence
• Motherhood brings as much joy as ever, but it still brings boredom, exhaustion, and sorrow too. Nothing else ever will make you as happy or as sad, as proud or as tired, for nothing is quite as hard as helping a person develop his own individuality especially while you struggle to keep your own. -Marguerite Kelly and Elia Parsons
• A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity; it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path. -- Agatha Christie
• A mother is she who can take the place of all others but
  whose place no one else can take. -- Cardinal Mermillod
• The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery. The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests. ~Author Unknown
• Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds.  Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins, comrades and friends - but only one mother in the whole world.  ~Kate Douglas Wiggin
• The best conversations with mothers always take place in silence, when only the heart speaks.  ~Carrie Latet

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