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Species Shouldn't Mix

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Yes, here is a picture of my family, most of them anyway. See the poodle in the pic? I think she's the only one that's "genetically pure," well, according to the AKC.

My brother sent me a link a couple of days ago because he thought I'd be interested in it. Uh, yeah, oh do I have A LOT to say about it, and the article brought it all up. 

The link is below if you want to read why this man in the article was "suspected of kidnapping," while he buckled his own children into their car seats. He was met at home by a police officer that not only questioned the parents, but the kids as well.

Man kidnaps his own kids.

Wanna get to the guts of this link without actually going there? Well here goes, wait, need to take
several valium before I set my laptop on fire with my pissed as hell typing skills.

Ok, back, see, that didn't take long. So here we go. The man, that didn't want his last name revealed, went to Walmart to cash a check and then went out to the parking lot and spent a few minutes buckling his kids into their car seats. 

Evidently he made a phone call, then talked with his wife before leaving. When they arrived at their home, there was a police officer waiting for them. Some, uh, I'll just say, "ignorant," person called security to alert them the man was suspicious and had three little girls and the "person" thought he may have been kidnapping them.

You want to know why? The dad was white, the mom was black, and the kids were mixed. OMG! He HAD to have been kidnapping those poor children! They weren't screaming for their parents, they weren't fighting to get away, they were patiently waiting to be put in the car.

So now, take a look at my family. See the handsome young man on the upper left? Click the pic to enlarge it. He is my first adopted child. We happened to live in the Pacific Northwest and there are interracial couples everywhere.

My husband and I saw him as a beautiful blessing from God, a baby, a gift, and answer to prayer, and he was, and is, all of those things. While we saw, see, him as a blessing, we had no idea of the ignorance we would be facing.

I have to laugh at this one. We were leaving church one day and a couple came up and was talking to us about our baby. They told us how "blessed" the baby was to have us as parents. Yeah, ok, rewind. I was thinking, "What in the HELL do you mean?" What I did say was, "No, we are the ones that are blessed." Then they actually asked, "Are you going to tell him he's adopted?" We looked at each other, and in unison, said, "Well, we think he'll kind of figure it out." What freaks!

I don't even want to go there. Is there something, some disorder, where people just blurt out what ever they think without thinking about it first? Yeah, I think so. I think it's called "dumb ass syndrome."

I can't speak to everyone's situation with mixed race kids, but I can tell you our story and a few of the things we experienced.

There was the guy, my daughter said he was about 70 or so, that, thank God for him, I didn't hear his comment, but Karli did. He, rather disgustedly said something about how he couldn't believe how beautiful white women would EVER want to have sex with, much less have a baby with, a black man.

She told me that and I was off like my 15 yr old chasing a hot dog! I was going to find that miserable excuse of a human  being and hand his ass to him. We looked everywhere we could think of looking and couldn't find him. He damn well better be on his knees thanking God that I didn't get a hold of his old wrinkly neck!

Another time we were at the car wash. I was vacuuming out my car and my two youngest kids were sitting on the concrete ledge of the vacuum. They were then about 7 and 18 months. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man approaching. I didn't like the gut feeling I was getting. He stepped up his pace, and I just had this feeling I needed to get my kids in the!

He got to me as I was buckling the baby into his car seat. He began rambling, then after a short time, he said, "You know species shouldn't mix." The guy was scaring me, scaring me to the point of "where in the heck is my gun?"

Then in a split second I saw a second, and then a third, man running toward me. I was about to totally lose it in the parking lot, and you guys wonder why I carry? The men that ran toward us grabbed the first man and pulled him away from me. Another man appeared. He grabbed the first guy by the back of the neck and "escorted" him off of the premises. Then they told me they were the owners of the car wash and they'd been having trouble with the Aryan Nations members that were stationed at the military base just south of where we were. They gave me the number to the car wash, and told me to call them each, and every, time I was going to bring my car in and they would have someone stand guard for us. Cool. They recognized the galactically stupid.

I took my son to Texas with me several times. Each, and every, time the white people stayed away from us, the black women stared me down, I guess they thought I "taken" one of their men, and the black men flocked around me. Ok, weird.

Another time I took my oldest daughter, she's the one that is on the right of Jeff in the picture, to the doctor. I had my first adopted son with me, and I had my second adopted son with me. My second adopted son is racially mixed as well, but you'd never know it, he was a total snow baby.

The doctor asked me to leave the room, which I should have never done, and would never do again, and he asked Karli if, "the little dark boy," was from a "relationship," one of her parents had been involved in! Luckily for the doctor, she didn't tell me until we were home, she knew better. But I did feel really good that the doctor was soon unemployed, well, after an irate phone call from some crazy white woman!

What's really sad is that if my son had been Chinese, people would have assumed he was adopted, but he was half black and half white, so I had to have been a woman of immoral character. My brother's wife is Japanese, I wonder if he ever experienced any of this? I never asked him, to us it was always the norm. We were brought up by a father that had grown up as one of the few white people in the French Quarter, in New Orleans in the 40's and 50's. Dad knew people were people and he made damn sure we knew it.

We got it from the "other side" as well. All of our adopted kids are either black, or mixed. When we went to adopt from the State of Washington, instead of the two private adoptions we had done before, we had to go to "diversity classes."

What a bunch of shit. The black woman that ran the "class" really had a STRONG dislike for what she called, "European-Americans." Yeah, we stopped her from calling us that, we, as in the entire class. One man said, "I've never been to Europe, I am an American. Your use of that terminology is insulting. You need to stop." THAT really pissed her off.

Then she went on a rant about how we would destroy the children we adopted, that we needed to feed them, "black," food like ham hocks, greens, black eyed peas, chicken and, yes, watermelon!" Um, let's all say it together....STEREOTYPE! Hello! I'm from the south, that's called "southern food," not "black" food.

When a man in the class asked if it was so bad that white parents adopted black kids, why were there only white couples in the class, she got all indignant and actually said, "Adopting is not in our culture, it's in the white culture." Ok, idiot alert.

I have to admit, my mom thought it was pretty funny when people would come by her desk at work and look at the pictures of her grand kids. One of my brother's kids are very blonde haired, blue eyed. My other brother's kids are half white and part Japanese, and my kids, well, there's an entire mix with mine. People would ask her who all the kids were, and, with pride, she would smile and say, "My beautiful grand children."  Not many people knew what to say, and most of those that did, tripped over their every word.

We live in "Lib Land." You want to know what pisses off the ones that spew "tolerance and acceptance?" Have a beautiful black girl walk past them while she's either wearing her "un hyphenated American" tshirt, or her "Conservative Chick" tshirt. They totally freak! They want her in a box. Yes, Ignorance, intolerance, nonacceptance, and downright stupidity goes every which way.

Come on people! Wise up! Leave your attitudes at the door, teach your children to accept others opinions, others cultures, just teach them to accept other people! Everyone can have an opinion, yes, in America we are free to express our opinions, but hell, why don't you open your closed minds and actually listen to someone else for once? They may actually have something to say you can learn from.

You want people to listen to you? Try listening to them. Have some respect. Grow the hell up!

With love, and very pissed off,



But I Don't Have To Go!

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Jeff: "I'm SO tired. I can't sleep because of the pain."

Me: "Then take the pain meds the doc told you to take.

Jeff: "They make me loopy."

 Me: "So, you'll be asleep."

Jeff: "I'm so tired and can't sleep."

Me: "So take an Ambien."

Jeff: "What if I have to pee?"

Me: "Then go now before you go to sleep."

Jeff: "I don't have to go now."

Me: "I don't see any pee in the jar. When was the last time you went?"

Jeff: "Oh, several hours ago."

Me: "You don't think you have to go because the pain meds might be masking the feeling."

Jeff: "I don't have to go."

Me: "Fine, then take the Ambien and pee in the bed."

Jeff: "FINE! I'll try to go!"

Me: "Good idea."

Jeff: "Hand me the jar."

Me: "Here."


Jeff: "Be quiet. I'm trying to concentrate."

Me: "Whatever. Just go."

Jeff: "I am."

Me: "Good."

Several minutes pass..........

Me: "Are you finished yet?"

Jeff: "Not yet."

Me: "So I guess you did have to go?"

Jeff: "Be quiet"

Jeff: "OK, here's the jar."

Me: "Gross! It's hot, AND full!"

Jeff: "You're a baby!"

Me: "And you would have peed in your bed! Take your Ambien and go to sleep!"

Jeff: "You win."

Me: "I know."

Jeff: "Goodnight."

Me: "Goodnight, oh, and take your glasses off before the Ambien sets in."

Jeff: "Shut up and go to bed!"

Me: "Nikki, take your dad's glasses off before you go to bed."

Nikki: "Hahahahaha!"

 Go visit his site, give some love, tweet it, FB it, share it. Please?

Much love and appreciation,




Uh, Ok, I'll Try

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

By now the world knows Jeff was in a severe accident and Life Flighted to a trauma hospital in Portland. He was left having a difficult time doing ordinary getting to the bathroom to pee. The wheelchair barely squeaks through the door. Plus, he was unable to get to the chair to get to the bathroom. So we had a bit of a dilemma.

One of the kids had a great idea, a BIG jar. Yeah, I thought I could live with that.

Yes, you read that correctly, thought. I'm trying, really trying, to be with him as often as I can, doing as much as I can, and that includes emptying the jar.

However, I cannot touch it when it is hot, I have to hold my breath and close my eyes as I empty it and rinse it out. By now you're thinking, "she had how many kids?" I kind of sucked as a mom too.

I could do diapers and spit up ok, but big kid pee, poop, or puke, uh, no. Really, I AM terrible. I'll throw them a pan, and a wet towel from the doorway and tell them to call dad if they need something.

They puke, I puke. Simple as that.

While I was emptying one of the jars the other day, it reminded me of the time in 1996 when Jeff was living in Oregon and the family was still in Washington.

We made a surprise run down to Portland to see him. It was about a 2 1/2 hour drive from where we lived at the time, so it was an easy shot.

We only had five kids then, they were 14, 11, 6, 5, and 3. The two oldest, Karli, my daughter was 14 and Cole, my son, was 11.

I had all of the kids pee before we left the house. Then we stopped for a bite of food, and of course something to drink. I made the kids all go to the bathroom again.

I thought we could make it the rest of the way to Portland. Cole couldn't. He cried, he whined, and carried on until we had no choice but stop for him. He did his thing and jumped back into the van.

We got about 45 minutes down the road and he had to pee again. There was no way I was stopping another time, no way. The kids searched around and finally found a soda cup, without a lid, in the van. I told him to go to the back of the van, do his thing, then give the cup of steaming hot pee to Karli and she would pour it out of the window.

Well, he peed, and he peed, and he peed, nearly filling the cup. Then he gave it to Karli, she began gagging because it was so hot, and, well, it smelled like pee. She put down the window, while carefully trying not to spill a drop, and went to pour the pee out of the window.

Well, I guess when you're flying down the highway and attempt to pour something out of the window, it sort of, goes up your arm.

Karli let our a shriek and promptly began to gag and gag badly. The other kids and I, however, were laughing hysterically. There was no towel in the van, so we searched around for napkins, anything to try to dry her arm and her long sleeved shirt. There was nothing.

So we had to drive the rest of the way to Portland with Karli gagging, the smell of really strong pee, and hysterically laughing kids.

I think of that drive every, single time I empty the pee jar. I always grab it from the top part of the jar so I don't feel the warmth, I'd totally lose it. Then, as I said, I hold my breath, rinse the jar, take it back and use a bottle of Purell on my hands.

I must love him, I guess.



No Time

I have no time lately since the accident.

So here's a poodle that thinks she's entitled to everything!

What a brat!

Also there is a link to Jeff's fundraiser started by my daughter, A Bipolar Princess. Check it out.

Share it please, FB, Twitter, Email, however. Severe Accident.

 So here's Nina, AKA "The Poodle."


Was Supossed To Be About Hot Pee....

Monday, May 13, 2013

Mama Diva, A Bipolar Princess, and my baby Madeleine
But tonight my mind is too scattered, to scrambled and too stressed to write the promised story of holding a jar containing hot pee.

Yes, there is a story there, a pretty damned good one at that.

But tonight I will leave you with this.

I'm going to direct you to a blog called A Bipolar Princess, my first borne, and unfortunately has faced and endured more than many have ever endured.

She's going through a very trying time now with some very ugly things going on and she is handling them pretty well.

But this post of her's is about me, her mom, the genetic connection the defective gene decided to travel. Unfortunately her's is worse than mine, and she struggles from time to time.

But in the comment section of this post I had to set her straight. And let her know I can damn well drink a hot latte any freaking way I want to. I'm 51 after all.

So, go, read, and realize how much she means to me, and I to her, even though we've have our differences. So, please go give a girl that has been through several lifetimes of tragedy packed into a short 31 years a little encouragement. Just click here and give her some love when she needs it most, She has some behind the scenes major changes in her life right now and needs a friend that really cares. Give her a like to, please encourage her.

She needs encouragement. I think everyone knows her dad, my husband was in a severe accident April 27 and life flighted to OHSU and admitted to the ICU.

He's home now with serious injuries.

So go visit these two pages.

The first one is about my relationship with my daughter, or rather hers with me.....and yes, she has called me many horrible names, and I think I remember a mouth slap a time or two that kept her in line for a while anyway.

The other is a plea for my incredible, faithful husband. He has worked endlessly to provide for our large family and ahs taken nothing for himself. He's unselfish, giving, compassionate, emotional (he cries at the most benign of TV commercials). He cried yesterday when his barber came to the house and cut his hair, gave him a strait razor shave, flowers and a card and would not accept any money.

Jeff broke down sobbing and convulsing at the generosity of this man.  Jeff has given his entire life to others, now, his daughter and friends have put a fundraiser together for him. He's down, and he's down bad.

His site can be found here. If you can donate, it would be awesome, if your can share by FB or twitter, it would be awesome, and if your could share his story, especially if you're a biker, I'll love you forever. Like I said he's loyal to a fault, and has always been there for others, now he needs some help.

 a very, heavily medicated, kiss, or maybe a thought of a kiss...Love you ALL.




Stop The Spiral

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Dr. Jakob, in the ICU
Worried in ICU

Sara and blood thinning shots
My focus lately has been the recovery of my husband, med doses, baths, pillows, water, company, talk, togetherness. Applying pain patches, talking to doctors, Physical Therapists, all things medical.

So much to do that no one really can "see." All they see is that I'm gone a lot.  Insurance, fighting, arguing, negotiating, bids, invoicing, contracts, getting things notarized, gathering belongings from freaking YAMHILL COUNTY. That's a LONG FREAKING drive from Happy Valley. I get the feeling people think I'm doing nothing, well if they want to step into my shoes, they are more than welcome to.

Working with insurance adjusters, looking for more insurance with much higher medical coverage, negotiating between the repair shop and the insurance adjuster, speaking with deputies, gathering images and reports. No one else can do those things.

We all have a part in the care taking of our main guy, and it all matters.

But I've been pushing the limits both physically and mentally. I'm recognizing the signs, but seem to be able to do nothing to side track them. I have to focus, and for me, sometimes focus is difficult, sometimes too intense.

But I smell it lurking around the corner, the black dog. I'll keep him caged, even if I have to cut ties with the world for a day to do it.

As of now I feel really selfish. I've spoken with all of my doctors, they have all said the same thing, take time to breathe, get out, forget, if only for a moment. Actually, I need to make it my top priority, or I will be no good to anyone. It's difficult when I have a broken husband, not only physically, but emotionally as well.

She won't leave him

He's trapped, alone and can do nothing for himself.

For me I know I need  my sleep patterns uninterrupted, major factor in bipolar, I need my meds regulated, I need to breathe deeply. I need to rely on others to help. And some have been very helpful!

Right night now, as of this moment, maybe not tomorrow, I feel afraid, not only for Jeff and our basic financial obligations, and medical bills, but also of my emotional state. I need to hang on, I need to make it through, for him.

I need to remember, this too shall pass. I also need to realize to ignore the haters, the ones that say horrible things, and the ones that have shown their true colors. Lies, gossip and maliciousness, I have no use for.

I also need to be thankful for the new friends we've made because of this tragedy, and to be thankful that were things in place, both physically and spiritually, that spared my husband's life.

Right now the fear, The sleeplessness, the over medicating, the emotional drain, and dealing with people that only recognize humans as numbers, and nott by their names and faces, is temporary, it shall pass.

Still by Daddy

Spiraling is no choice, has it ever been? No, but I need help to control it. I've lost even more weight, which I didn't t need to do, and my resting heart rate is hovering around 140, I'm thinking that's not good. But I assume it can wait. The lump I found, I should probably have checked out, but when?

You want to know a secret? I know Jeff has Hershey Kisses down in the office with him. I think I'll sneak down there.

Tomorrow will be another day and we will conquer it.

I would like to ask, however, that you share my husband's link, if you can donate $5 or $500 it would be awesome, but what would be incredible is if you would be able to find it in your heart to share his link, share his story, share his need. Scroll through the pictures, I tried to keep the graphic images out of the spotlight, but I have shown some of the kids, some of the hurt, some of the faith, some of the human side of my, now, very fragile husband. By the way, the smiles he has in the photos are a bit, well, totally fake. He's trying to hide immense pain from our children and grandchildren.

Better times, our 25th anniversary, the week before the accident

I'm sorry,  I did not proofread this before hitting publish. I'm tired, my eyes are not focusing, and all I want ti sleep, and chocolate. 

Thank you for you kindness and generosity.



The Longest Day

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Did a little business this morning and had a nice, fresh latte. Then hopped, or rather, slid, into my car and started off to complete the tasks at hand.

First I had to drive to freaking Yamhill County to retrieve Jeff's belongings from the Sheriff's office. That took time, well finding the place first, then the deputy hadn't filed out a report yet. The woman I was speaking to told me everything I was describing had come in, but since there was no report she couldn't release it to me. And also since Jeff wasn't there to give his consent, it got a little more sticky.

Finally, they decided a verbal ok from Jeff was good enough to release his possessions, all but the ammo that was in his glock. They would give me the glock, and the magazine, just not the the same visit, I'd have to return.

I said, "you have  to be kidding me! I have a concealed permit, I realize you have to walk me out of the court house with the gun, but I have a fully loaded weapon in my car, AND that's 40SW ammo you're holding onto, and that's not cheap."

She made a couple of calls, and they decided it would be ok to give me everything, including the ammo, out of the magazine. That' s the good thing about small town Sheriff's offices. They make it work. Would have never happened in Portland.

Then I drove to the tow yard to get more things, most importantly, his glasses. I saw the bike and it looked really, really good. The tow truck guy was awesome. Every credit card and every piece of change was still in the bike. When Cole totaled his Civic a few years ago, the company that towed it, somehow managed to "lose" the wheels. Yeah.

After many hours I was on my way back to town and had to drop off CDs at the ortho office, go to the bank, and found a cool, open box deal on a flat screen TV for the office, along with Apple TV. So now he can watch Netflix, read his email, whatever he wants. I really need to go through it all and figure it out, but I'm brain dead.

Finally I stopped for burgers and drove home.

We ate, talked, and then made the decision Jeff needed to be cleaned before his doctor's appt tomorrow. Yes, that was interesting. Kids helped maneuver, mom washed and rinsed, kids kept eyes closed. He smells a little bit better not, not much, but a little bit.

I gave him his meds, grabbed the dog and I'm now in bed. What a day. You know what I just realized? I think I'm avoiding writing about the accident. Give me some time to process everything, and come to terms with what's happened, and I will tell you what I know, how I felt, how we saw things, the emotion, the reality.

In the mean time, enjoy this pic. Yes, you are right. She is MY dog, but she LOVES Jeff and has not left his side.



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