Happy Yowloween!

Well, at least that is what it is in my house! With six cats, two of whom are new kittens, there's a whole lotta bitchin' going on.


It's funny because I got kittens for two reasons. One, I saw how my big bully, Damien, ended up harrassing the adult cat I adopted last year because he never saw him as anything but annoying competition. They still have fights even a year later. Not good. But when Leo came to live with us, as a kitten, he and Leo became buds quickly.


Well it worked like a charm again. Damien has once again shown his softer side and completely does a 'proud papa' with the new boys. Of course...strictly on his own terms and until he gets annoyed and decides to push them off, but still he is the only cat in the house that has warmed up to them, lets them sleep against him, and even bathes them.


The second reason was so that the very kittenish Leo would have playmates. As the former youngest of the group, he wants to leap and pounce and play...and he often wants to do it on bully-boy's back. It has led to yowling cat fights because though they are buds, Damien has no desire to play. Hissing and spitting ensues. Fur flies. So I thought youthful kitties for Leo to play with would be just the thing.





Instead, my formerly passive and sweet Leo yowls, growls, hisses and snaps out to bite the poor boogers on their heads. This is not good. Not good at all. Leo knows he was the delta of the group, and he is determined to set these two spunky kittens below him. Unfortunately, scolding him every time he bites them hasn't helped things...but for once I am at a total loss as to how to manage them! I made peaceful transitions between four cats. What is different this time??


Well, part of the problem was that Magellan, the black kitten, hurt himself on Friday so badly he couldn't bear weight on his left front paw and he was squealing incessantly in pain. Although nothing was broken, the vet thought it wise to support the paw with a cast.



BEFORE:





AFTER:







The Bully and the Baby with the BOOBOO:




This resulted in some MAJOR coddling all weekend long...especially cuz the splint was freakin' as big as he was! He couldn't move at first. And then I had to drug him for the pain so he spent a lot of time stoned out on my chest. Thus...Leo's fave place was usurped and he did NOT take kindly to it.

FILMAGE:

But after seeing such a pathetic little thing, wouldn't you want to spoil him? Anyway the cast came off this Monday and all is better for Magellan...save for the random nip on the head. I am giving Leo some loving as we speak. Maybe he will get over it tolerably after a bit of time.

So now that you have a cat update, I wanted to give you a Halloween update on the raffle status. Keep in mind I haven;t been to my post office box yet, but I have given out numbers 1-20 for ticket numbers so far. I am very happy about that, and grateful to those who sent in above the raffle total just for the ACN with no expectation of reward or favor in return. I will continue to take donations and sell tickets until the moment I draw on November 15th or until I reach number 100 in ticket sales. This means you will have a 1/100 (or better...I don't think I will sell every chance though I hope I do!) chance of winning. 1 in 50 if you buy two tickets. 1 in 25 if you get four. Remember, you can pay via paypal to email addy jacquelynfrank@hotmail.com or you can snail mail a check to PO Box 2164 Skyland NC 28776. Please make this donation. The more I talk about this, the more horror stories I hear about the Hendersonville Shelter. The ACN is, pardon the pun, rabid about closing them down and about providing a humane alternative. Please help me support them.

On a book note (bet you never thought you would hear about my books again!!) Elijah is on the cusp of release! Only two months left to go! I wanted to say a couple of things. Firstly, E got his review in PW and boy was I happy! Romantic Times releases E's review in the next issue in time for his Jan. 2nd release and I just saw the gorgeous ad Kensington is putting up. (Although, I did try to get them to make the book cover bigger...sigh. You know I try my best for you gals!! LOL!!) Apparently the consensus is that this book is scorching hot. Searing. POOF! You'll be nothing but ashes. But, (demure eyelash flutter) that's not me saying it. It's the reviewers...but you know ow THEY exaggerate...

I thought I would celebrate the holiday with a giveaway. Comment here to enter and you will win a chance at the raffle basket. I will donate the five bucks for ticket number 21. I will draw the name at the witching hour. Heh. Midnight tonight. Winner gets ticket number 21. I guess I ought to have saved number 13 lol...but I wasn't thinking ahead.

Anyway...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

PS: I am the featured author HERE: http://ravenhappyhour.com/ravenblog/?p=184

The site is run by Mandy Roth and Michelle Pillow :)

Let's Raffle Their Feathers!

Hi everyone! I just wanted to give you an update. I got my paypal account for Jacquelyn's Boutique up and running! You can now make payment for raffle chances using the jacquelynfrank@hotmail.com address. I realize this makes things easier for everyone, and so I decided I would absorb the percentage of charges Paypal will take out for each payment made to me for the raffle. Least I can do, really. You are all so great to take part in this. And frankly, I don't care what country you are from. If you pay your five American dollars per chance and your number gets picked, I will happily send it out to you wherever you are, whatever the cost. That's the whole point of this, isn't it? To give in a way that purely gives to animals I feel are in danger for their lives.

So, now, no excuses and no slacking off and no "I'll do it later..." I know my fans. You have good hearts and give more than lip service. Together we will be a powerful force. YOU get a 1 in 100 chance of winning a prize...ACN gets 500 bucks.

BTW, a woman named Laura from ACN called me today. They heard about my little raffle. :) The things she told me they are doing...oh my! I am going to be invited to a wine tasting (ewww...wine) and silent auction (oh AAAAAAAmy....I need another baaaaaasket) on November 29th. The have restaurants from all over catering, wine is being donated, and get this...only 20 bucks a ticket to get in! I said she was undercharging!

She also told me their plans for the future. They are trying to establish a specialized pet store where they will sell safe toys, good fooods and adopt animals out without using any cages! The cats will have a huge habitat, the dogs will play together. They hope to expand and offer vet care, grooming, doggie daycare...and anything else they can think of! It will be wonderful because everything you buy, all the profit goes right back to the ACN! A nonprofit store run by a charitable network. Amazing idea! Also, I learned that they have actively been in court trying to shut down a certain infamous shelter!

I am more certain than ever now that I have chosen the worthiest of causes. My 18 dollars a month to the ASPCA is important, but this is spectacular! I am thinking of making a bi annual event of this raffle. Fall and spring. The next one will happen after the Romantic Times convention. Anyone who misses out on going, not to fear, all the goodies I am giving away there will end up in the new basket. And trust me when I say it is SUCH fun stuff!

I would like to add this: If you wish to make any donations to the ACN beyond your five dollars...just leave me a note in your Paypal payment explaining how many chances you are buying and how much beyond that is for ACN. Together, we can change what is happening to animals in this area. I know we can!

You are all beautiful and may you all be beautifully blessed!

Love,
Jacki

Long Time No Blog!

Howdy! I am glad to see you all are hanging on despite my sporadic blogging behaviors. I wanted to say hello and to let you all know I am doing much better this week. This has a lot to do with my very loving friends and fans who had nothing but kind and supportive words (and chocolate) for me. It also has to do with the two adorable kittens I adopted from a local shelter.



I ought to say three. Three kittens. Unfortunately one of the original set of kittens tested positive for FIV, feline AIDS. Thank the universe and its kind nature that Susan M. was with me that day, trying to cheer me up...poor thing. Instead she had to help me go through my first ever act of euthanizing an animal. You can imagine what I was like. Bawling, heartbroken... disastrously depressed. I stayed with the poor little thing through it all, and Susan stayed with me. How honored I am to be treasured with such a good friend. How blessed we were to have known that sweet purring spirit, even if for only a few hours.




Then I got my mad on. The shelter made me furious. It was the first time I had ever seen such lax practices. No testing? No paperwork for the adoption process? Not even a phone call to see if I was a responsible human? Anyone could walk in there and take however many animals they wanted without so much as a question. The only thing I signed was a paper exempting them from responsibility if the animal tested ill. Ass covering at its finest. Oh, and checks. I signed checks. Now I don't mind paying a fortune for the benefit of some feline babies...anyone who knows me knows how much I love cats, but clearly all they cared about was covering their costs so they didn't lose money on housing the creature until they could foist it off on another.




Here's the thing. The shelter's attitude? Their first responsibility is animal control. They had an enormous map behind the front desk, the county sectioned off and the names of the male enforcement officers who manned each section. It was clear looking at their spiffy uniforms, new facilities and pretty trucks that this was where the focus of their funding and their interest lay. In a nutshell, this was NOT an animal shelter. This was a animal control and law enforcement facility. You see, an animal shelter shelters the animals first. Protects them, cares for them, and doesn't give them only ten days to live before euthanizing them. This one cat, a black furry thing who was so desperate for love and attention he threw himself against the bars of his cage repeatedly and meowed like crazy...when I noted he had gunk in his eyes and he might have an infection, the woman who manned the desk gasped and hushed me. "No. No. He's just depressed and not grooming himself. Don't say that or they will put him down if they think he has an infection."





HUH?!? What happened to a few eye drops and a little petting time? Put a cat down because it has a small flaw?? No. No this is NOT an animal 'shelter'. It's a death machine. And the volunteer groups that have been trying to rescue these animals before euthanasia...working their butts off to foster them and bring them into the local Petsmarts to help find them loving and good homes (I had to fill out a LOT of paperwork for them and was turned down for having too many cats! An idea I could understand and appreciate.) But this 'shelter' shut its doors to all volunteers and volunteer groups, refusing them access even to take pictures of the animals for flyers and websites to help in getting them adopted. The 'shelter' claimed some sort of insurance issues and that they couldn't be responsible...yadda yadda yadda...the unsaid meaning clearly that, once again, covering their asses was far more important to them than the lives of these poor creatures. Shelters all over the USA work in tandem with volunteers and other groups to facilitate adoptions. Why is it so impossible for the Hendersonville County Animal Shelter at 828 Stoney Mountain Rd in Hendersonville, NC 28791-1349 to achieve the same synchronicity with those caring outside groups who would help them save lives? Why is it they are only open from 9:30 to 4:30 weekdays (during average work hours only) and only open from 9:30 to 11:30 on a Saturday? (BY THE WAY: the times on the site are a lie. I originally went to adopt on the previous Saturday around 1pm thinking they would still be open. They were closed.) That means that the average 9-5 worker only has a two hour window each week in which to save the life of a potential pet. Two hours. Ten day lifespans. I am not making this math up or spinning it my way. It's simple logic. This 'shelter' is interested in animal control first. Adoptions are only a secondary byproduct. It's shameful. Horrifying.



Back to my story. You see, my two original kittens were in the same cage together. At 8 weeks and 6 weeks old, it was clear they weren't from the same litter. But anyone who has seen how rough and tumble kittens are and how sharp their claws are knows the odds of them biting or clawing each other to the point of drawing blood is very high. It was a miracle the second kitten didn't test positive for FIV as well. I have to retest him in four months just to be sure just the same. How irresponsible!! Putting two unrelated, untested kittens in the same cage?! The lack of concern and basic knowledge for contamination issues (it could have been the very viral Feline Leukemia instead, an automatic death sentence for them BOTH at that point) is appalling. Worse yet, they know full well how easily they can be contaminated...but just didn't care.




After putting my new kitten on his path over the rainbow bridge, I marched back to the 'shelter' to give them a bit of my New York attitude, to find out how long the kittens had been together, and to warn them to warn others who had adopted from that kitten's litter of the contamination. To be fair, the woman behind the desk was horrified that I had to put the kitten down. She had considered getting him for her own daughter. I was also glad she had dodged the bullet. I also noted that she knew the name of the person who had adopted the kitten's litter mate without even looking it up. Here, at least, was an individual worthy of 'sheltering' these poor creatures. She was the one who hushed me to save the life of that poor black cat. I am almost afraid to mention it because I fear she will get in trouble for her clandestine attempts to do what the entire 'shelter' should be doing. To that end, I will not mention her name. She hastened to offer me a replacement kitten. I was ready to lash back at her for that. You cannot replace one spirit with another like that! This isn't like trading in a faulty toilet paper roll at Walmart! But out of the corner of my eye, through the open glass, I saw two kittens tumbling and playing around in a cage, at the start of their ten days (I knew because I had not seen them the day before) and with no volunteer groups availed the opportunity to help them. I knew it was a risk. These too could test positive for some disease...but before I knew it I was holding one in my hands and thinking: "Better a fifty fifty chance with me and my tests than the odds it has here."





So, I took the boy of the pair to my doctor. Thankfully, he tested negative to everything but roundworms and FLEAS. Yes, both of my new kittens were infested with fleas and worms! The 'shelter' didn't even treat them for these simple parasites! GAH! It makes me so mad!! And I hope it makes you mad, too. Mad enough to maybe write them. Mad enough to support what I am about to do.



Recently, Amy, my beautiful and talented Fan Club President, made up a gorgeous basket of Nightwalker promotional items. I have the pictures here:









Inside this adorable basket are items such as signed copies of Jacob and Gideon, signed book covers, an "I spend my nights with the Nightwalkers!" nightshirt, a "Curl up with a GOOD Demon!" book cover to protect your paperbacks as you read them, and many more goodies, as well as the basket itself and its seasonal decorations. Want it? Oh, I know that you do. And this is a good thing because for a mere five dollars a chance, you can buy the opportunity to win this basket. I have limited it to 100 chances. If I sell every chance, I will make 500 dollars to be donated to a 501 c3 organization known as Animal Compassion Network (ACN). As I understand it, 98 percent of the funds donated go directly to resources for the animals they foster and rescue. They are a NO KILL organization. This is local to me and a much better alternative than the County run machines who would rather be part of the problem instead of a compassionate part of the solution. Being from New York, I am much more used to a different level of care and concern...a level I believe the ACN has achieved.





In order to sell these chances to you, I had intended to use EBay, but they have a policy restricting the use of EBay for raffles and chance drawings. So I am left with no choice but to do this directly, from here, using my business account. Simply make a check payment for five dollars per chance that you wish to buy out to Jacquelyn's Boutique and mail it to my new post office box address: Jacquelyn's Boutique (or Jacquelyn Frank if you prefer, either will be fine) P.O. Box 2164 Skyland, NC 28776. Or, you can make a Paypal payment to Jacquelyn's Boutique using the email jacquelynfrank@hotmail.com. Once I receive your payment I will issue you chance numbers from one to one hundred via email. The winning number will be randomly chosen on November 15th (plenty of time to use that gorgeous little basket on the Thanksgiving table!)and posted here for everyone to see. Amy will send the basket out shortly afterward. I will let you know how many chances actually sold and how much money we were able to raise for ACN. I will also keep you apprised along the way. :) Also, if I get checks above the allotted 100, I will return them unopened to you. Any questions? Just ask me at jacquelynfrank@hotmail.com. You know I will respond to you ASAP.

Together you and I can make a small dent in the much needed resources for the ACN. We can save kitty lives, spay and neuter, give shots...eye drops. Love.




In New York if I had run an organization that kept animals infested with disease, fleas and parasites in cages and then killed them in a manner likened to mass murder, I'd have been arrested for animal cruelty. What I wouldn't give to subject the Hendersonville County Animal 'Shelter' to the standards of New York law. However, since I cannot, I will undermine them much better this way!!



But now for a more cheerful touch to my little story and pet adventure.



I would love for you guys to meet the newest members of my kitty family. The grey and white striped kitty is named Malcolm, after a certain captain of a certain ship named Serenity. Mal is adventurous, a scrapper, warm on his own terms and the funniest little bugger I ever met. The black one is named Magellan, after a very famous explorer, because he was the first to scale the baby gate blocking the door to their room and venture out into the scary unknown in spite of the fact that he is a huge fraidy cat! LOL. I adore him for that mixture of bravery and cowardice. He is a very different spirit than the kitten he was meant to 'replace'.















But that kitten will not be forgotten. Not by me or Susan or, I daresay, anyone here who has read his unfortunate little story. I never had the chance to name him, but I am doing so now. His name is Oliver, after a famous unfortunate orphan. Rest peacefully, Oliver. We'll see you again whenever you decide to return to us and try again.





And one last touch to send this home:





Cambridge Dictionary definition of SHELTER:


shelter (PROTECT) noun [C or U](a building designed to give) protection from bad weather, danger or attack





Wikipedia's definition of "Animal Shelter"


An animal shelter is a facility that houses homeless, lost or abandoned animals; primarily a large variety of dogs and cats. The animal is kept at the shelter until it is either reclaimed by an owner, adopted to a new owner or placed with another organization. In the past, they were more commonly referred to as "dog pounds", a term which had its origins in the pounds of agricultural communities, where stray cattle would be penned up until claimed by their owners.


Well, it seems Hendersonville meets the bare minimum. Perhaps. It depends on opinion I suppose. This has been mine.

What's yours??

Like A Bandaid

Perhaps not many of you will understand this, but just so you know it made sense to me. I just came back from driving to New York and back. I dropped B off days early. Sunday. Visited Laura for a minor mental dissolution, and left as unexpectedly and impulsively as I had arrived. I suppose most people would have milked every day they had left with B to the very last drop, but most people didn't have to listen to her sob on the phone saying, "Mommy come get me!" and have her beg me incessantly, "I want Mommy! I want Mommy!" ceaselessly through every waking moment since the day she figured out what was happening.

It wasn't about what would make ME happy. And anyway, listening to her didn't make me the least bit happy. In fact, every "I want Mommy!" was like getting stabbed really hard in the heart. She didn't mean it this way, but it felt like: "I DON'T want YOU!" I began to cry in front of her constantly...it was like tugging off a superglued bandaid in teeny weeny increments. I was desperate to feel the pain and get it over with. I found the fastest solution and executed it coldly and smoothly. I ripped off the bandaid.

But before you think me a coward...like I think myself to be...speed has its flaws. Like her tiny Tinkerbell slippers, pink. sitting on the floor forgotten. Or laughing at 5:30 this morning at a show and slapping a hand over my mouth to quiet myself so I wouldn't wake her...before remembering it was no longer necessary. And those tile and wood floors I am so vainly proud of?

The whole house echoes. It's empty.

Dust coats everything as they continue to work, so occasionally I can make out the print of a small bare foot.

The bandaid is off...but like an amputated limb, I still feel the pain.

My menage...Me, Ben and his brother Jerry.

Yeah. I went out and bought a shameless number of pints and seriously didn't give a rat's patootie. I am living every day in a series of disjointed thoughts and realizations.

Example: The floor guys are putting in my beautiful and carefully chosen floors. Floor I picked out and chose to do because I knew B would somehow manage to get everything known to man on the beige rugs. WTF?? Who buys beige rugs anyway??? Between B and the cats I knew I needed to choose tile and wood throughout. Easy to wipe up surfaces.

So I am standing there watching the guys sponge off the gorgeous terra cotta tile in the kitchen and I was chatting with them and said something like: "B's going to have a hard time fucking this stuff up!"

Then I remembered.

So I moved away to appreciate the pretty tile entryway that had just been laid, the gorgeous decorative pieces making it so unique, and yet it was a large functional square so that when B comes in with snow on her boots, she can avoid the wood floors and take them off...

Then I remembered.

So I stop looking at the floors. I come inside to pay bills. It's an adult thing and can't relate to B in any way. It's a safe thing to do. Except I go to write a check and I see my Disney Princess checks that I bought because B picked them out.

Despair and depression are knocking at me door. I am fighting them off with Ben and Jerry. If I add Lindy Sue it'll be a gang bang.

To B or not to B...

Tonight has been one of the hardest nights of my life. I wrote the previous blog to you all so I could tell as many of my friends, fans and family as I could, all at once, about the impending loss of my child so I wouldn't have to repeat it individually over and over again. The "ripping off the bandaid effect" you could call it. Tonight, as B and I prepared to go out for dinner (I have no kitchen right now due to tiling), I was scolding her for leaving a mess on the counter. She was studying me a moment after apologizing to me for the mess, tilted her head and said, "You know, when I got on the bus this morning I was crying a little because you want me to go to Mommy."

I swear, I had been holding it together and being as normal as rain in spring. I have said nothing to her about any of this. It must have been her mother. I was so taken by surprise that I instantly burst into tears, grabbed her close into a hug and told her I don't want her to leave. I don't ever want her to go. She is my baby girl and I would never want her to go. But, I told her, she belongs to her Mommy too. I told her that her mother was fixing her life now and could take care of her once again, so I have no choice but to let her go.

Goddess, she is so smart. She had this all figured out. I don't think Karry told her specifically...I don't know...but she knew she was leaving imminently. She was so quiet and thoughtful about it, I had no clue she had known already last night that she would be leaving very soon. She had climbed on me, begged me to let her fall asleep on top of me because I was so comfy. I wish I could have said yes. I wish my body didn't ache so badly. I wish a lot of things. But the signs were there that she already knew. Stupid me for not remembering how clever my girl is.

The night spiraled from there. Once my tears confirmed her speculations, I had to tell her everything. I did my best to explain it all in terms she could best cope with. How to make her not feel guilty about leaving me? How to make her know that leaving me was breaking my heart at the same time so she would know just how much I love her? I told her that no matter what, no matter when, she would always have a home with me if she needed it. Then she said, "What about if Mommy dies? How will you know where to find me? I'll be alone. I don't want to sleep without you all alone." I told her that I would come as fast as I could and come get her. She told me, "But it's a long drive and it will be night once before you come." I actually smiled at that. The kid's got a hell of a memory and brilliant deductive reasoning. I said, "Oh, but for you I would take a plane. I would race up to NY and be there in a matter of hours. Three...maybe four at best. As soon as I find out, I will come get you." This seemed to relieve her greatly. So adult...so reasoning...and then... "But who will I play with while I am waiting?"

Bingo. Seven year old perspective has return in blazing glory! lol. That defining self-centeredness that doesn't fade until sometime after her teenage years, that innocence, and that short-sighted simplicity just takes my breath away.

Of course it was all downhill after that. Now that she knew her mother was coming for her, she kept saying, "I want Mommy!" over and over and over and over again. She clung to me, hugged me, and demanded her mother perhaps three dozen times. All I could do was tell her she had to be patient, that there was a plan and it would happen soon. My little love had no idea that every time I heard "I want Mommy!" it was like a knife stabbing me true and deep. I was hurt, jealous, angry and devastated all at once, and I couldn't show a second of it because I am the grown up. But all the same, I am human. And right now, I am so fragile I feel I could shatter any second. Suddenly so many things no longer seem to matter anymore! Things I thought were so important have flown away into nothingness. I can't delineate specifics, my mind is too scrambled, but anyone who knows this feeling knows what I mean.

Now I watch her sleep next to me and love all the little bits of her. Her little toes...the rosy curve of her baby soft cheek...and the way she makes me giggle when she farts robustly in her sleep. I felt the need to write you and tell you how I feel, not to gain sympathy, but to gain understanding. To remind you that the world can change in an instant. Beware of that. Live every moment carefully and deeply. I have sixteen days notice. So many are not so lucky.

Thank you and Blessed Be my friends, for no one deserves it more than you.
Jacki

A Sad Circumstance.

Such a mild title for a moment like this. I simply don't know any clearer way to put it. Frankly, I am not feeling very pithy or cute right now. My entire world has been turned upside down. My heart lies in shredded pieces.

Bianca is going back to live with her mother.

Last night Karry called me and told me she wanted Bianca back, that she felt she was back on the right road and had reclaimed her life. She calmly tackled each issue and point, anything I could have questioned and everything I had demanded of her. She had, in all honesty, met just about every requirement.

I had no power to argue. I could barely speak as it was. I know she gave birth to her, and she does have every right to have custody of her child and raise her in any manner which she sees fit, but in my heart, as any of you who have followed this blog know, she is my baby. My little girl. And October 18th her mother will come and take her away from me. My devastation is soul deep. I can't stop crying. My chest aches so badly.

What can I do or say? We have joint custody, but she is the natural mother and has full power over her rights to her child. My guardianship will remain in place and if anything ever happens to Karry, Bianca comes to me. Thank the Sweet Goddess for that. Even so, I cannot demand Bianca. B has been sad and wants her mother very badly. We always want what is distant from us and we always forget the sharp edges of what it means to live with someone after a while. She complains that I am too strict. B wants to sleep with me every night and she wants to watch TV til she falls asleep. (It actually keeps her awake) I don't let her, but her mother does. I structure her, I refuse to let her act up, be disrespectful or lie. She can walk all over Karry easily and she knows it. But that's not grounds for keeping a child that doesn't belong to me.

So I had to agree. I have to let B go. It will be good for her. She loves and misses her mom. They are moving into her previous school district, so it will be old friends and familiar halls and and even more familiar setting of expectations. I will be able to keep tabs on her with the social worker, with whom I have a relationship already. She will let me know how Bianca is doing truthfully and as her guardian I will still have the right to ask.

But it doesn't change the hole that has just been ripped into my life. She will visit, maybe for whole summers, but it doesn't change the weight of the rock in my gut. I just bought her Halloween costume, but I won't get to go trick or treating with her now...or ever again. No Yule. No Thanksgiving. No giggles. No baths. No falling asleep in my arms. No stories. No arguing me into a corner. No wet willies in my ear.

I feel like I won't ever draw a breath again without feeling the pain hugging tight around my ribs right now...right where her little arms would be in a hug-as-tight-as-you-can contest.

Seventeen days.

I can barely breathe. How will I ever pull this off? How do I keep it together so she won't be made to feel guilty for going? How do I let her know I will miss her with all my heart and soul at the same time? We're not telling her about the change until the week before "just in case", so I have to keep calm for that long at least. Then I will put these kidnappers up in my house, as my guests, and let them take her over and take her away. And no. I won't make them get a room elsewhere, because then B will want to stay with them and that's a few more precious nights I can still have her to touch and hug, even if I only become incidental since Mommy will be there.

And I will paint her room pink and purple and I won't care anymore if the colors match anymore. I will put Tinker Bell up on every wall, and I won't give a damn if future guests like it or not. But I won't order her furniture because I won't be able to bear setting it up after she is gone. It would be so hollow. At least she will still be here for the decorating part. I can watch her enjoy that part. She will remember that somewhere there is a place, just for her, waiting longingly for her to come back to it.

And there will be a bedroom, too.

La Da Dee La Da Da!

Life goes on! I am guest blogging over at Lucy Monroe's site! It's a fun one. Thought you all might like to go check it out. She was sweet to invite me. My floors are being torn up, and don;t you know I just found out that TWD on the calendar from school means Teacher's Work Day. (which means no school).

Well DUH me! How silly of me not to realize immediately what this meant! The meaning of TWD is so abundantly clear! I feel so foolish!

So now I have seven year old child, dangerous implements, workmen and debris all blended up together!

Gotta love life! LOL!

On top of that, B is punished for an indeterminate amount of time. First, she disappeared down the block without asking or telling me where she was. (I had a good guess of course, but it's the principle of the thing) Then I caught her fighting with a boy. Then she lied to me once or twice. Then I found out from ANOTHER MOTHER IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD that she was messing with the automatic garage door. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. I hadn't even heard it! So hard to believe! Am I the only one who remembers the old "Wait til your father gets home!" warning, only to lie in bed and suddenly heard the sound of the garage door opening, the sound going through you like ice? Well, I didn't hear it this time! Damn modern insulation...damn Susan for keeping me entertained...damn--err--everything! I was sitting on the phone realizing why the other mom was dreadfully reluctant to let her daughter play over my house! In her eyes I am clearly going to let my kid run with scissors, stab others with pencils, eat paste, use a BB gun indoors and I will, no doubt, keep the pot handles on the stove turned out and my meds lined up and crushed into powdered rows for the taking.

Sigh. Well, I am off to go do laundry...maybe I will give B a ride in the dryer.

hugs and kitties
Jacki