The Lucky Pumpkin

Lately, I have been coming into contact with many different realtors.  I know that realtors are necessary, and there are many wonderful ones out there, but they have always come across as a little bit smarmy to me.  They have to butter up to people in order to get their business, so you never really know if they are just trying to have us keep them in our “rolodex,” or if their interest is genuine.  But the people I have been running across are just foolish in their interactions with others.  One lady is a mother of a girl who is in Anna’s dance class.  She is studying for her realtor’s license.  She appears to be from Florida, (She drives a car with Florida plates,) but I wouldn’t know for sure, she won’t talk to anyone.  How foolish is that?  You are going into a field that requires you to “schmooze” with others to get and keep contacts, and you ignore a bunch of potential customers?  Of course, all the people in the waiting area of the dance class are like that.  They refuse to talk to anyone else.  So I sit there with Emily and we get the evil eye because she is NOT quiet!  Nor should she be.  She isn’t loud enough to distract the dancers, but she does talk in a normal voice, which is too loud for the people in the lobby.  I have never felt more unwelcome, not even at Anna’s school, but I digress…

The other place I have met a foolish realtor is at Anna’s school!   A mother of two of her classmates is also a realtor.  I was very surprised to find that out today, because she is very rude and uppity to me.  I assumed it was because I dared to send Anna to her school without being in her “clique.”  Many of the mothers are like that.  But to treat someone poorly when they could be potential dollar signs to you is not good business.  I just think that there is no way I would ever use her if I wanted to buy or sell after the way she treats me.  Is it worth it to her to do that?  What does she get out of it?  The funny thing is that like everything to do with that school/church, if they really knew what we could do for them, they would be fawning all over us.  Instead, they see us as a headache because of Emily, and they shy away from us.  We don’t act like we could afford to be a help to them financially, but we definitely could.  They are too wrapped up in their social clubs and social standing having to do with which parents went to the school themselves.  Outsiders are really not welcome.  This is strange for us coming from Rochester, where almost everyone who lives there is not from there.  Considering that the population doubled in the last 30 years, you can see why.  This is a metro community, but is far enough out to still be “small-townish,” so we are dealing with some small-town issues.  As I have said before, we could help them not only with finances, but of course, with creating a true inclusive community, which is the only type that should be representing Jesus, in my opinion.  All I can say is, I am glad I am not a realtor.  When I do need one some day, I will choose one who is nice to me without knowing anything else about me, someone who is nice to everyone no matter where they are or what their circumstances are!

This saying used to make me upset.  I felt that it was an unfair statement.  Now, however, I think it just might be true.  We have been in our town for almost 2 years, and I have FINALLY been invited to the home of a native of our town.  Of course, it was Emily’s teacher, but still, it was a social event, and we really had a blast!  All of the other people I have befriended are not natives of our town.  I am not sure what this means, except that the natives have no interest in getting close to “newcomers.”  I am from Minnesota, but not from the twin cities area, and really didn’t know anyone from here when we moved here.  My neighbors are the worst.  They are actually really polite, in an almost painful way, because they never take it a step further.  And in case you are wondering, yes, we have invited them over to our house first.  It is most painful for Anna, because the kids in the neighborhood were all friends with each other first, and they just never think to include her in their play.  Luckily, they all live in the block behind us, so she doesn’t get to see it too much, but I often see them playing together when we are on walks.  I sometimes steer us in the other direction so she doesn’t get upset.  Yes, we have invited them to play at our house many times, including inviting them to our new play set in the backyard.  They are just  a lot like their parents, and they steer clear of newcomers.

I hope it has nothing to do with Emily.  I am going to believe that it doesn’t.  Where do you live again?

Just a quick note to say that I have been getting a lot of spam comments lately.  I want you to know that if you left a comment that didn’t get published, that it is because sometimes it is really hard to tell which ones are legitimate.  There have been a few lately that were borderline, so I deleted them.  I don’t mind publishing views that are different than mine, as long as they are respectful in tone.

Also, I think it is obvious by my writing, but I wanted to say that I am NOT a writer by training, and I am not trying to be a professional writer.  I am just putting my feelings and experiences out there to help myself.  If anyone else is helped or entertained by reading this blog, that’s great!

I was going to write about Michael Jackson tonight, and as I was logging into my blog, I saw a comment by someone asking if I was going to blog about it. (Actually, I am wondering if it was a spam comment, some of those spammers are getting good at what they do.) Anyway, I might write about it later. In general, I think it is getting too much attention. But, I can’t really focus on that right now. I am thinking about the show that I have just got done watching on PBS. The show NOW interviewed Max Rameau, who is a community organizer in Dade County, Florida. His group is helping people to become squatters in foreclosed homes in the Miami area. (Miami was particularly hard-hit by the collapse in the housing market.) My heart feels so heavy that things in our country have gotten this bad. I am also feeling quite disappointed with Obama. I really did have high hopes for him, even if they were tempered by the fact that he had so little real experience. He sure spoke so much more eloquently than our last president, and that was so refreshing. So far, it seems like a lot of talk and no action. It also seems like the current administration is so concerned with pushing through universal coverage for health care that they leaped over what I feel must come first, HOUSING!!!! Seriously, what is more important to you, having a home for your family, or having insurance that you probably won’t be able to afford to pay for, anyway? How are you going to get to your doctor? In most areas of the country, there is not adequate public transportation, and certainly not for homeless people, that’s for sure. I think health care is very important, but housing has to supercede it.

What happened with the campaign promises? Max Rameau brought up a very good point; he said that the money that we, the taxpayer provided to bail-out the banks was to buy up the toxic assets from the bad mortgages, NOT to ALSO let the banks KEEP those houses! But that is what is happening. The banks got the bail-out money, AND they are keeping the deeds to those houses, AND they are evicting people. HUH?!?!?! If they “sell” the mortgages to us, the taxpayers and the government, they shouldn’t also get to keep those houses. It is like they are swindling us right in front of our eyes, and we are letting them! I thought that Obama was going to provide relief for people with the foreclosures. Very little has been done on this front, and what has been done, doesn’t appear to be working.

So, in Miami, people are breaking into empty, foreclosed homes. The police are reluctant to do anything about it. The people who break in have to pay the utilities. (Apparently, the utility company will turn on the power as long as someone pays, even if the home is in foreclosure.) You know, I am not a fan of breaking the law, but I have to say that it feels good to know that some people are fighting back. They screen people to make sure they are not breaking in to sell drugs, that they really are families whose only other option is the street, or living out of the car, or the shelter. The shelters do not have enough beds for all of the homeless people in Miami, so taking back the houses is what people feel they must do.

I am so horribly disappointed in our government right now. We spend billions, and billions, and billions killing people in other countries, and then we print some more money that we don’t have (they really are doing this, research it if you can stomach it, just printing money with no gold to back it, or any assets to back it, like you can just do that without ruining the value of the dollar…) and give it to the banks, but let the typical citizen drown because he or she made “bad choices,” by getting a mortgage they couldn’t afford. Yes, that did happen, and I really am all for personal responsibility, but I am also for CORPORATE RESPONSIBILITY, too! What’s good for the goose, is good for the gander. If you bail out the banks, you should also have to help the people of our country.

It appears that Obama was the biggest conservative of all. All he has done is help the banks and the big businesses. I guess that all that the rest of us can do is go break into an empty house and hope the police in our communities are as understanding as those in Miami.

I have been thinking about how facebook really keeps people connected even if it is mostly passive. I think it is so wonderful that my kids will probably never loose contact with their childhood friends the way most people I grew up with did. Even if you change your email address, you can still keep in contact through facebook. I have been connecting with childhood friends, and it is so much fun. I remember my mom telling me that I would probably not keep in contact with childhood friends because it is too hard to keep up with everyone, and people drift apart. I think that is true in the old days, but with the new technology, that will only happen if you want it to happen. How exciting!

I have been learning a lot about myself and my friends and acquaintances lately on facebook.  One interesting way I have learned about people is by the ads on the right side of the screen.  It will say something like, “Suzie is a fan of Chipoltle,” or “Matt uses this application,” etc.  It is a fun way to connect with and learn about your friends.  I have one friend, (actually a relative, not really a friend, but how do you say no to a friend request from a relative?) who is so into material things.  I keep getting these notices that she is a fan of the latest and hippest restaurants, jeans, jewelry, cars, etc.  I wonder if this is what fills her days, thinking about how she longs for these things?  Don’t get me wrong, I like nice things, too, but I don’t sit around all day and dwell on them!  Then, I get these other notices like, “Alice joined the Down syndrome recreation group,” or “Jody is a fan of the Leukemia society,” or things like that, and I realize that life really isn’t that fair.  Or course, I knew this before, but it is interesting how it is played out right before your eyes on facebook.  My relative who is so shallow, has 2 beautiful, healthy girls, and all she cares about is whether she can get the new Audi that she longs for.  My other friends are worrying about whether their child will fit in at school, or will she be accepted by the other kids, or will she be able to take care of herself when she is an adult?  The shallow one has what many of us want, and she will never realize how blessed she is.

Another funny thing I get are these updates like, “Amy is a fan of bubble-wrap.”  Too funny!  You can really see people’s personalities come out.  I hope that I come across in a favorable light to my facebook friends.  Oh well, take me as I am, flaws and all!  At least I know I am not shallow!

All right, last time, I dropped a bomb, and really aired all the dirty laundry.  (Well, almost all, someday I will write about my severe post-partum depression, and all that went along with it.  Actually, it was related to the molestation, so maybe that will come sooner than later.)  I have been thinking about how what I wrote would sound to a stranger, and I was thinking that some people would think that my accusation that my brother was himself a victim of abuse was not supported.  So, digging deep into my painful past…here goes!

I feel my brother was molested for many reasons.  He was in a group of boy scouts that included at least two of his friends who were molested by their scout leader.  He was in a group of “elite” Indian Dancers (yes, I know that the term should be “Native American,” but that is the name they used then, and it wasn’t meant to be derogatory.)  These dancers went to schools and other places and wore what they thought was an approximation of authentic costumes.  This included pants made out of deer skin with an open flap to cover the butt.  Underwear was not worn.  Also, no shirt.  When they danced, the butt flap would open.  Yes, I know that it sounds crazy that the boys were allowed to go like that.  The master manipulator, I mean scout master, was so good at selling a line to the parents about why the boys needed to dress like that, etc.  Anyway, my brother was a part of that group.  They also used to go on many overnight camping trips, including a two-week stay at the Cimmaron, New Mexico scout camp with just the leader and the boys.  We can guess what happened there… (My brother went two years in a row.  That is four weeks of unprotected access.)  During this time, I discovered a huge stash of inappropriate magazines in my brother’s room.  I did tell my parents, (I know, all the guys out there are screaming right now!)  and his excuse was that he found them in a tree house.  I never bought that line, and was surprised that my parents did.  (I guess they just wanted a reason to think everything was all right.)  Now that I am older, I really think that these mags were fed to him by the scout leader.  He probably also told him what excuse to give if he was ever caught.

Other reasons I feel he was molested include the fact that he abused me after the scout leader went to prison.  Did he miss it?  Probably.  And, the fact that he was the perfect target.  As was I.  Neither one of us had a loving father figure.  In fact, we had the polar opposite of a loving father figure.  We were both craving love and acceptance from a man.  The scout leader was my brother’s proxy father figure.  He would do anything for his acceptance.  I was lucky that I had a father figure in my band director, who was a wonderful man, and never said a mean word, let alone have any abusive behavior.  I was lucky that I chose a better person.  However, when my brother abused me, I did not have my band leader in my life, yet.  I was so beaten down, that when he started changing from someone who called me names all the time, and doing everything in his power to make my life miserable, I was totally sucked in.  I wanted love and acceptance from a family member.  He stopped torturing me, and started being someone I could turn to.  He offered solace when my parents had left me cowering in the corner.  (I mean this quite literally, and will write about this someday.  I used to go into the deepest corner of the closet in my room, and just be as quiet as possible, so I could avoid any fresh emotional wounds.)  He knew this about me, and used it to his advantage.  As an adult, I can see the moment he started manipulating me.  I really think he learned it from his abuser.  My parents are many things, but they don’t know how to manipulate like that.

Lastly, I just feel that it is the truth.  I know that some people won’t buy that reason, and that is all right.  I know what I know.  I have always been an empath.  I mean this quite literally.  I feel what other people feel.  I have learned to block it for the most part, but I can look at someone, and tell you what they are feeling.  Not why they are feeling it, or anything else, just what they are feeling.  If I am not protecting myself, I can feel it, too.  I know he was abused.  But, even if you think that is hogwash, I think I have given enough other reasons to support my claim.

More to come in the future…

Well, it has come to my attention that someone (or some people,) in the town I live in have been reading my blog. That is all right with me. I originally didn’t tell anyone about it (except my husband,) and didn’t use my full name because I was going to talk about some very private painful things from my past, and I didn’t want to unnecessarily hurt my family, and also because some people I have talked to have had horror stories about stalkers, or problems from giving too much information about themselves in their blogs. From the search query this person used, and the information I have given, I am sure it is someone I know from the Down syndrome community. I just want to say that I am fine with that. I stand by everything I have written here, and take full responsibility for it. I am still not going to use all my identifying information because of the security reasons that I mentioned above, but you are welcome to continue reading if you want to!

So, I have not blogged for a while. I have been busy, and life has gotten in the way. My grandma died last week, and it was quite painful. She and I had a birthday one day apart, so we always celebrated together. We also share a first name, although she went by her middle name, as women named Mary often did in her generation, because there were too many of them!

At the wake and funeral, I saw many relatives that I have not seen in years, some in over 10 years! Also, the perpetrator of the incest that I mentioned in a different post was there. It was painful to face him. He is my brother. There were so many people there who don’t know, (in fact, only my husband, mother, and therapist know.) So, of course, everyone thinks I am rude to my brother. I sit and take it, knowing if they only knew the truth, they would see things so differently. But, a funeral is not the place to start a family fight, so, like a good little catholic girl, I bit my tongue, and accepted a bunch of shit. The most painful part was my mother who I heard telling my brother to, “Just come over,” to my house after the funeral. She knows why I don’t want him there, and she encouraged him to come, anyway. I feel so betrayed!

My brother was abused by his scout leader, I am sure. The scout leader went to prison twice for pedophile abuse, including my brother’s friends. My brother never said anything, but there are so many things that are explained by this, that I am convinced that it is the truth. After the scout leader went to prison, my brother started abusing me. Well, he learned from the master how to manipulate people. (He could also have been abused by a priest, as there was a convicted priest in our church, and my brother was a altar boy, but I feel sure that the scout leader abused him first.)

So, couple this with the incredibly harsh father that we both have, a true German engineer, and you can see how my brother was easy prey for a pedophile. My father has never said, “I love you,” to either of us. Everything we did as kids was wrong, or at best, not good enough. Yes, I do blame my father for all of this to an extent, because his treatment of us laid the groundwork for both of us to be abused.

My mother is not without fault, either. She came from a poor Irish family, lead by a drunk for a father who used to leave my mom and her sister in the car when he went to the bars to drink. Yes, in Minnesota, and yes, in the winter! Which leads us to my Grandma, who is also guilty for being an enabler who let this abuse go on. My mom of course picked the guy to marry who she felt was the most unlike her dad, and therefore able to provide for her.

Ah yes, the cycle of abuse, what a wicked web we weave! Well, it ends here. I am not going to be afraid to expose the skeletons in my closet! My brother molested me, my father emotionally abused me, (and sometimes physically, too,) my mother continues to try to emotionally abuse me, and refuses to accept that her son committed the ultimate crime against her only daughter. I am standing up to say, NO MORE!!!! I will not allow my daughters to be victims! Now, for those who know me, this will explain why I am hyper-vigilant around my daughters. You would be, too, if you experienced what I have!

So, if you know me, and still want to read, that is the worst I have to say! Continue reading, if you want, and feel free to leave a comment if you want to. I am fine with everyone knowing my secrets.

As far as my last post, Emily is doing much better! She actually was getting sick AGAIN when I wrote the last post, but I didn’t realize it. She always regresses when she is sick, but bounces back when she is better. She has been sick so much in the recent past, with ear infections, strep, pneumonia, and bad colds. But, she is much better now, and actually was walking today pushing her baby stroller, which gave her no support at all, but she thought it did. This proves she can walk on her own with no problems, she just needs more confidence!

All God’s critters got a place in the choir,

Some sing low, and some sing higher,

Some sing out loud on the telephone wire,

And some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they’ve got now. (Bill Staines)

I love that song. I always wanted to sing it with my kids while teaching, but in a public school, songs like this must be avoided. I have been thinking about this song a lot lately since Obama’s gaffe. I know that he was attempting to be “lighthearted” and “self-deprecating,” but it is too telling about what his views are on people with disabilities when something like that slips out. I think that he is a good, intelligent person, which is way above Bush on both counts, but I am frustrated with the “intellectually elite” people in the country (and others,) thinking that making fun of a person’s intelligence is acceptable! As I have said before, most people with developmental disabilities were born that way. That puts insults of this type in the same category as insults of a person’s race. Both are things you are born with, and cannot change. (Sure, you can study your butt off, but people with true developmental disabilities will never study them away.)

Obama is president of ALL Americans, including and most especially those who have disabilities. I hope that he uses this experience to become a better person, and to become a champion of the disabled community.

Here is an essay on diversity that I found on the internet.

THE DIVERSITY CREED
By Gene Griessman © 1993

I believe that diversity is a part of the natural order of things—as natural as the trillion shapes and shades of the flowers of spring or the leaves of autumn. I believe that diversity brings new solutions to an ever-changing environment, and that sameness is not only uninteresting but limiting.

To deny diversity is to deny life—with all its richness and manifold opportunities. Thus, I affirm my citizenship in a world of diversity, and with it the responsibility to….

Be tolerant. Live and let live. Understand that those who cause no harm should not be feared, ridiculed, or harmed—even if they are different.
Look for the best in others.
Be just in my dealings with poor and rich, weak and strong, and whenever possible to defend the young, the old, the frail, the defenseless.
Avoid needless conflicts and diversions, but be always willing to change for the better that which can be changed.
Seek knowledge in order to know what can be changed, as well as what cannot be changed.
Forge alliances with others who love liberty and justice.
Be kind, remembering how fragile the human spirit is.
Live the examined life, subjecting my motives and actions to the scrutiny of mind and heart so to rise above prejudice and hatred.
Care. Be generous in thought, word, and purse.

My life goes on, in endless song,

Above earth’s lamentations.

I hear the real, though far-off hymn,

That hails a new creation.

No storm can shake my inmost calm,

While to that rock I’m clinging.

It sounds an echo in my soul.

How can I keep from singing?

I love that hymn. It has helped to soothe my soul many times in my life. I used to sing it a lot after September 11. It is the song that popped into my head while watching some of the election coverage. Today is a day that I just can’t keep myself from singing! In fact, all of the freedom songs that I used to teach my kids for Martin Luther King Day, and during African-American History Month seem appropriate now. Lift Every Voice and Sing, Free at Last, and We Shall Overcome come to mind. What an historic day! Today, I am proud to be an American!

I am also a little bit worried. I am worried because whenever so much goodness and light comes together, there is an element that despises it. That element of darkness thrives on fear, despair, hate, all the dark emotions. With all of the comparisons to Lincoln, I really hope and pray that some wacko out there doesn’t try to take the similarities all of the way to the tragic end. President Obama and his family have my prayers. I know they will do well.