Dear Teachers,
Please stop teaching my child about sex. It is filthy and dirty and my child is too young to hear about things like that. I hate to bring this up, also, but sex was a punishment given to Adam and Eve by God, so I have a hard time believing my child will grow in his education being taught about God's Punishment. Please stop teaching about sex.
Also, since I'm here, please stop teaching my child about economics. Maybe you've heard, and I don't want to step on your toes here, but "money is the root of all evil", and I don't want my child that close to evil roots. And Jesus turned over the vendor tables in the temple because he didn't believe in economics. So please stop teaching economics.
You know, history shouldn't be taught to my child, either, while I'm thinking about it. There is so much violence in history. The Nazis were really horrible, and lots of Christians were eaten by lions, and that kind of imagery shouldn't be taught to my child. Jesus actually said that we shouldn't listen to the teachings of the Old Testament now that he was here, so he was in favor of throwing out history, too.
Math was just really hard, so stop teaching math.
And stop teaching religion, physical education, music, art, foreign and domestic languages, social studies and science, as these things are really pointless and just waste my child's time. I don't want anything to shift his focus from going to a good college so he can get a good job. Please stop teaching these things as well.
If you could just teach the Bible and football, that would really be best, not only for my child, but for our country. Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, which is the Bible's endorsement for football, as Jesus had to touch down on Lazarus while saying a Hail, Mary for Lazarus to pass out of death and rise up from the end zone, where we all did a victory dance.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Sarah Palin
Thursday, June 2, 2011
We Should All Be Pro-Life!
There's a lot of debate about Pro-Choice and Pro-Life these days. The big one recently is to clearly and LEGALLY define when life starts, so that all fetuses (feti?) can be given the same rights as all living persons and abortion can once and for all be illegal.
Let's just clear things up right now.
PRO-LIFE IS ABSOLUTELY GREAT!
And I think that we should clearly define when life starts so that we can fight to protect each and every life God has placed on this Earth.
I believe that the Pro-Life movement, however, is shooting itself in the foot. Nobody is going to believe that you really believe life is worth protecting if you don't, actually, protect life. So, for instance, your pro-life arguments are completely full of shit if you protect one life and not another. If you actively fight to kill something, you're not really pro-life, are you. No, you're not. So here's what we need to do to make people understand that Pro-Life is the ONLY way to go!
First, we need to outlaw abortion. Abortion is a form of killing, and killing ends life, so abortion fits into the pro-life statement that All Life Is Worth Protecting. So abortion goes. And to make sure people know we're serious about protecting life that is currently in existence and not just the life that is living in a mommy's tummy, once those babies are born, all Pro-Lifers will adopt unwanted babies, so that we KNOW those babies lives are protected by somebody who cares for life. All babies who would've been aborted because their mother was raped, those babies get immediately adopted by a Pro-Lifer. All babies who would've been aborted because their mother is too poor to provide a decent or healthy life for that child, those babies are adopted by Pro-Lifers. And then they care for the mother who was too poor to care for her child by paying for her college degree, making her a more viable candidate for A Good Life, as college grads live longer lives than non-college grads, and we're all about protecting life. By outlawing abortion, we also make in unnecessary to kill the doctors who are killing the babies. Two lives saved with one simple act!
Next, we outlaw bug spray. It is a poison which kills life, and it needs to go. We're All About Protecting Life, People!
Next, we need to outlaw the death penalty. Yes, some might argue that these violent criminals have given up their right to life by committing violent crimes, but that doesn't change our view that ALL LIFE IS WORTH PROTECTING! So we end the death penalty and put all criminals in prison for life.
Next, we need to outlaw guns. Guns are designed to kill either humans or animals, and they need to go. Look, if we don't stand behind our beliefs, people will think we're full of shit and not worth listening to, so we gotta do away with guns. No More Killing!
And the Armed Forces: gone. No more army, navy, air force or marines. No coast guard. No more bomb makers or tank manufacturers. They are all in the business of killing people, and life must be protected.
We gotta do away with radiation and chemo therapies for cancer victims, as cancer is a living thing, and... you guessed it... life must be protected.
Killing animals must be outlawed. So no more meat for food. And killing plants must be outlawed. So no more plants. All food must be synthetic, made completely from man-made ingredients. We will all live on protein bars and Twinkies.
The people who are currently alive, they must be protected, so all of them must be brought up to an economic level which would afford them a life worth living. All homeless and indigent people across the globe will have a Pro-Lifer pay for his or her house and meals until he or she is dead. We Pro-Lifers will not be called hypocrites and liars! We mean what we say! There is plenty of money and resources on this planet for every living person to have a home and food which sustains them. Hey, we protected them at birth, we need to continue protecting them once they have left mommy's tummy.
Finally, death must be outlawed. We are so serious about protecting life that we will demand it continues even after it naturally leaves. People who die will be strung up to medical machinery and kept alive through the financial participation of us Pro-Lifers. Facilities will be built to house these living corpses-- creating jobs, I might add-- and caretakers will be hired-- more jobs-- and space will be made for these living dead on the moon-- Welcome Back, Space Shuttle Program and more jobs!-- as we will quickly run out of space on the surface of the planet. All people will enjoy immortality, as we make sure that every human, young and old, living and dead, fulfills their God-given Right To Life!
Amen.
Role Models
Our 14-year-old posed a question to the family last night at dinner. He asked who my role models were.
My wife was the first to respond positively to this question. She gave a little gleeful yelp, and started with her role model: my mother. She said that my mother was somebody she had always wanted to be like when she grew up. My wife had mentioned this desire to be more like my mother at other times, and although I wasn't surprised by her answer, I hadn't thought about it in a while, and it's always nice to hear such high praise from the woman you love about the woman who raised you.
Our 10-year-old awkwardly started pointing at me. 14-year-old and my wife grumpily were asking him to stop pointing and say what he wanted to say, but because they were speaking over each other (not to mention our 10-year-old had his entire hand in his mouth and looked like he was trying to pull his lips to the back of his head), they didn't hear him say that his role model was me. I spoke for him. "He's pointing at me. He's saying that his role model is me." Our 14-year-old looked at our 10-year-old at that point, a little dejected. My wife picked up on that one. "Did he steal your thunder a little?" she asked our 14-year-old. He nodded, and my wife continued, "Why is your step-father your role model?" Our 14-year-old's face lit up. "Because he's done a lot of things that I want to do and he's eaten a can of frosting. And he's fun." Our 10-year-old agreed with these reasons for me being his role model. These answers brought lots of laughs from my wife and myself, as well as the boys.
It's one of the best things: sitting around, talking with my family, about random stuff like this. It's really wholesome, refreshing, and replenishing.
What never was said last night was who my role model was. This happens often. Somebody will ask a question of me and then answer it for themselves before I have a chance to answer. I find it cute and frustrating, but it's not something I care enough about to make a big deal over. Our 14-year-old has very mild Asperger's, so telling him that he's asking me a question and then answering it for himself might discourage him from being social, and being social is something that he's working hard to become more comfortable with. So my mentioning of minor social faux pas isn't, in the grand scheme of things, for the greater good. Our 10-year-old loves talking and could talk all day without rest... and sometimes he does. One day I will mention to him that he's asked me a question and hasn't wanted an answer. But that day isn't today. And it won't be tomorrow. My wife's nickname (which I gave her) is Shiny, because she's easily distracted from everything. It's one of the many things that draws me to her. I like being able to talk to her about a potential birthday gift and discuss how she might feel about it and then distract her with, let's say, a jingling set of shiny keys, and she will completely forget about our birthday gift conversation, making the gift a complete surprise when she opens it. This quality in her also makes me feel really smart, as I'm able to follow her multiple streams of thought when we talk without skipping a beat. It's important to me that my spouse make me feel good, not just in what she does for and to me, but in her being who she is and that fitting with who I am. My wife fits me really, really well.
I sat there last night trying to think about who my role model was. My first thought was Wolverine from The X-Men. But I kinda poo-pooed this thought, as he wasn't somebody I really wanted to model my life after. He's a hero and helps people and is loyal and has super powers, but he doesn't behave in a way that I think betters the world sometimes. He acts too much like me sometimes-- grumpy at the idiots he has to deal with and slice with his claws. Why do there have to be so many idiots?!
No, I wanted to be like somebody who is kind, loyal, strong, caring, supportive, funny and heroic. And I realized that my role model is my wife. I don't know anyone as kind as she is. She spent money so that our boys could have gifts to give their abusive father/her abusive ex-husband for his birthday and Christmas. She did this until he sued her for sole custody of the boys without reason, which is another quality I like about her: her kindness has limits and can be taken advantage of only so long. She has never said a bad word about anyone to anyone, except for me. I'm the only person she trusts with her "mean" feelings, which she always feels guilty for having. She remained loyal to her marriage for 12 years, even though she was the only member of that union who was actively trying to make it good. She has fiercely fought for her children and their happiness, even at her financial and emotional expense, because she believes they should be listened to and have a say in making their world better. She stood up to her parents when they told her that she and I had been secretive about our relationship. She was strong enough to divorce her ex-husband and stand up to her parents and protect her children with those two parties trying to hurt her and them, and she did this alone. She supports me, my mother and step-father and her children in all that we do. She makes me laugh more than George Carlin and Eddie Izzard combined. And in these ways, she's a hero to her children and myself. Something that I've come to realize, as I have a major hero complex, is that heroes often don't get recognized. Like the public at the beginning of the movie Hancock, heroes are often shunned, or they remain hidden so that nobody knows they are there. My wife champions her students, her children, her husband, her in-laws and all those she cares about on a regular basis.
My wife is my role model.
My wife was the first to respond positively to this question. She gave a little gleeful yelp, and started with her role model: my mother. She said that my mother was somebody she had always wanted to be like when she grew up. My wife had mentioned this desire to be more like my mother at other times, and although I wasn't surprised by her answer, I hadn't thought about it in a while, and it's always nice to hear such high praise from the woman you love about the woman who raised you.
Our 10-year-old awkwardly started pointing at me. 14-year-old and my wife grumpily were asking him to stop pointing and say what he wanted to say, but because they were speaking over each other (not to mention our 10-year-old had his entire hand in his mouth and looked like he was trying to pull his lips to the back of his head), they didn't hear him say that his role model was me. I spoke for him. "He's pointing at me. He's saying that his role model is me." Our 14-year-old looked at our 10-year-old at that point, a little dejected. My wife picked up on that one. "Did he steal your thunder a little?" she asked our 14-year-old. He nodded, and my wife continued, "Why is your step-father your role model?" Our 14-year-old's face lit up. "Because he's done a lot of things that I want to do and he's eaten a can of frosting. And he's fun." Our 10-year-old agreed with these reasons for me being his role model. These answers brought lots of laughs from my wife and myself, as well as the boys.
It's one of the best things: sitting around, talking with my family, about random stuff like this. It's really wholesome, refreshing, and replenishing.
What never was said last night was who my role model was. This happens often. Somebody will ask a question of me and then answer it for themselves before I have a chance to answer. I find it cute and frustrating, but it's not something I care enough about to make a big deal over. Our 14-year-old has very mild Asperger's, so telling him that he's asking me a question and then answering it for himself might discourage him from being social, and being social is something that he's working hard to become more comfortable with. So my mentioning of minor social faux pas isn't, in the grand scheme of things, for the greater good. Our 10-year-old loves talking and could talk all day without rest... and sometimes he does. One day I will mention to him that he's asked me a question and hasn't wanted an answer. But that day isn't today. And it won't be tomorrow. My wife's nickname (which I gave her) is Shiny, because she's easily distracted from everything. It's one of the many things that draws me to her. I like being able to talk to her about a potential birthday gift and discuss how she might feel about it and then distract her with, let's say, a jingling set of shiny keys, and she will completely forget about our birthday gift conversation, making the gift a complete surprise when she opens it. This quality in her also makes me feel really smart, as I'm able to follow her multiple streams of thought when we talk without skipping a beat. It's important to me that my spouse make me feel good, not just in what she does for and to me, but in her being who she is and that fitting with who I am. My wife fits me really, really well.
I sat there last night trying to think about who my role model was. My first thought was Wolverine from The X-Men. But I kinda poo-pooed this thought, as he wasn't somebody I really wanted to model my life after. He's a hero and helps people and is loyal and has super powers, but he doesn't behave in a way that I think betters the world sometimes. He acts too much like me sometimes-- grumpy at the idiots he has to deal with and slice with his claws. Why do there have to be so many idiots?!
No, I wanted to be like somebody who is kind, loyal, strong, caring, supportive, funny and heroic. And I realized that my role model is my wife. I don't know anyone as kind as she is. She spent money so that our boys could have gifts to give their abusive father/her abusive ex-husband for his birthday and Christmas. She did this until he sued her for sole custody of the boys without reason, which is another quality I like about her: her kindness has limits and can be taken advantage of only so long. She has never said a bad word about anyone to anyone, except for me. I'm the only person she trusts with her "mean" feelings, which she always feels guilty for having. She remained loyal to her marriage for 12 years, even though she was the only member of that union who was actively trying to make it good. She has fiercely fought for her children and their happiness, even at her financial and emotional expense, because she believes they should be listened to and have a say in making their world better. She stood up to her parents when they told her that she and I had been secretive about our relationship. She was strong enough to divorce her ex-husband and stand up to her parents and protect her children with those two parties trying to hurt her and them, and she did this alone. She supports me, my mother and step-father and her children in all that we do. She makes me laugh more than George Carlin and Eddie Izzard combined. And in these ways, she's a hero to her children and myself. Something that I've come to realize, as I have a major hero complex, is that heroes often don't get recognized. Like the public at the beginning of the movie Hancock, heroes are often shunned, or they remain hidden so that nobody knows they are there. My wife champions her students, her children, her husband, her in-laws and all those she cares about on a regular basis.
My wife is my role model.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Very Important Person
You're the most
The Most Important
Very Important Person
You're my VIP
My VIP
So you should VIP
All over me!
Let your golden VIP
Rain down into my mouth
I'll drink up all your VIP
That comes from VIP-ness.
And if you were Professional
You'd be a VIPP
From M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-Tee-Hee
VIPP in my pants
VIPP in my bed
VIPP on my ice cream
VIPP on my mustache
VIPP around my back yard
VIPP very softly
VIPP in the pool
VIPP-I-PP-E-I-E-I-Oh No!
Don't VIPooPoo
Your VIPP
Can't you see, see
You've got the hugest VIP-ness around!
Beat me down with your VIP-ness!
Get it swollen and engorged!
Smack around your VIP-ness!
The source of your VIPP!
You scream
I scream
We all scream
For your golden VIPP!
The Most Important
Very Important Person
You're my VIP
My VIP
So you should VIP
All over me!
Let your golden VIP
Rain down into my mouth
I'll drink up all your VIP
That comes from VIP-ness.
And if you were Professional
You'd be a VIPP
From M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-Tee-Hee
VIPP in my pants
VIPP in my bed
VIPP on my ice cream
VIPP on my mustache
VIPP around my back yard
VIPP very softly
VIPP in the pool
VIPP-I-PP-E-I-E-I-Oh No!
Don't VIPooPoo
Your VIPP
Can't you see, see
You've got the hugest VIP-ness around!
Beat me down with your VIP-ness!
Get it swollen and engorged!
Smack around your VIP-ness!
The source of your VIPP!
You scream
I scream
We all scream
For your golden VIPP!
Kicked In The Nutz
I'm too gutless to move forward.
It's sorta like that book Flowers For Algernon where the retarded guy was happy, but then he got smart and realized that other people were making fun of him, and then he went back to being retarded, except now he was unhappy because he knew that people were making fun of him.
...well, OK, it's not quite like that.
But, used to be, I was a really great actor. I was a great improviser. I was a great musician. I was a great performer.
Then I got my confidence kicked in the nuts, and I stopped performing.
After "stopping", I was in a musical in New York. I was okay.
I was in a movie recently. I wasn't good.
I stop myself from performing with other groups here in town because I'm scared. I'm scared of being thought less of. And right now, there's not much less to think of about me. I'm not doing anything.
Well, I guess I sang a couple of times with a buddy of mine. We sang in our store. That seemed to go over well, but that was in a retail store, not a performance venue. When we went to a coffee house, we were okay. Then we went to a bar, sang two songs, and slaughtered everyone. Then we went back and completely bored everyone. Ourselves included. We haven't been invited back.
My mother is supportive.
My wife is supportive.
And yet, I make up all kinds of different excuses as to why I can't perform: I'm too tired, I haven't written anything, I don't want to perform with people who aren't professionals, you can't afford me. And probably, they're all to cover that I'm scared. I'm scared to find that I don't have "it" anymore. That I'm not as powerful as I once was. That I'm weak and I won't be able to get my strength back. That my wife won't think I'm funny, and that will mean that she doesn't love me anymore and we'll get divorced. Or our boys won't think I'm funny, and then they won't want to live with us at all anymore, and then Dick Lick will take them away and sue us for child support and we'll lose the house and the cars and have to live in a box. And yes, I guess this is a real, palpable fear of mine. I know it sounds outrageous and unrealistic, but I'm not ready to laugh about it because it's still a real possibility in my mind: this is something that might happen.
I remember seeing a friend of mine get kicked in the dick by a horse when we were at summer camp together in 5th grade. His nuts got pummeled, and he stood there for, like, 8 years, just looking at me, not moving, his eyes so huge they covered his entire face. It was like he was scared to move for some reason. That's how I feel. If I move, I might actually feel the pain from the horse kicking me in the dick, or I might realize that my balls have exploded inside my pelvis, or that my hips have exploded out my ass. I'm going to stand perfectly still and do nothing and, in that way, I'm going to still believe that I have a pair and can actually be considered a man.
PS... that friend who got kicked by a horse, he was rushed to the hospital. Didn't come back to camp. Much later in life, he became a famous swimmer and wrote a book about swimming. So I guess he's okay. I don't think he has any children.
It's sorta like that book Flowers For Algernon where the retarded guy was happy, but then he got smart and realized that other people were making fun of him, and then he went back to being retarded, except now he was unhappy because he knew that people were making fun of him.
...well, OK, it's not quite like that.
But, used to be, I was a really great actor. I was a great improviser. I was a great musician. I was a great performer.
Then I got my confidence kicked in the nuts, and I stopped performing.
After "stopping", I was in a musical in New York. I was okay.
I was in a movie recently. I wasn't good.
I stop myself from performing with other groups here in town because I'm scared. I'm scared of being thought less of. And right now, there's not much less to think of about me. I'm not doing anything.
Well, I guess I sang a couple of times with a buddy of mine. We sang in our store. That seemed to go over well, but that was in a retail store, not a performance venue. When we went to a coffee house, we were okay. Then we went to a bar, sang two songs, and slaughtered everyone. Then we went back and completely bored everyone. Ourselves included. We haven't been invited back.
My mother is supportive.
My wife is supportive.
And yet, I make up all kinds of different excuses as to why I can't perform: I'm too tired, I haven't written anything, I don't want to perform with people who aren't professionals, you can't afford me. And probably, they're all to cover that I'm scared. I'm scared to find that I don't have "it" anymore. That I'm not as powerful as I once was. That I'm weak and I won't be able to get my strength back. That my wife won't think I'm funny, and that will mean that she doesn't love me anymore and we'll get divorced. Or our boys won't think I'm funny, and then they won't want to live with us at all anymore, and then Dick Lick will take them away and sue us for child support and we'll lose the house and the cars and have to live in a box. And yes, I guess this is a real, palpable fear of mine. I know it sounds outrageous and unrealistic, but I'm not ready to laugh about it because it's still a real possibility in my mind: this is something that might happen.
I remember seeing a friend of mine get kicked in the dick by a horse when we were at summer camp together in 5th grade. His nuts got pummeled, and he stood there for, like, 8 years, just looking at me, not moving, his eyes so huge they covered his entire face. It was like he was scared to move for some reason. That's how I feel. If I move, I might actually feel the pain from the horse kicking me in the dick, or I might realize that my balls have exploded inside my pelvis, or that my hips have exploded out my ass. I'm going to stand perfectly still and do nothing and, in that way, I'm going to still believe that I have a pair and can actually be considered a man.
PS... that friend who got kicked by a horse, he was rushed to the hospital. Didn't come back to camp. Much later in life, he became a famous swimmer and wrote a book about swimming. So I guess he's okay. I don't think he has any children.
23 Days
23 days until we go to court.
23 days until something happens.
As it is, nothing has happened except that Fuck has increased his bullying.
He has filed for sole custody without any reason, evidence or provable case.
Our attorney is baffled that his attorney is allowing this to continue.
She believes that his attorney is milking Fuck, trying to get as much money from him as possible.
That, or they are both monumentally stupid.
In either case, it's disturbing that this kind of behavior takes place in our world.
I try not to think about it.
But my hands still get charged with electricity. They are tingly with my anger and anxiety.
I try to vent it.
But it doesn't ever get out of my system.
Something brings it back, either me or some new piece of information.
Right now, they boys are happier than they've been in quite some time.
They don't know that Fuck is pushing for sole custody.
They don't know that he's trying to sue us for money that he has never asked for and has refused when we've offered it.
They don't know that he's not listening to them.
They don't know that he's told the court that our 14-year-old isn't mentally capable of deciding where he wants to live because of his severe Asperger's Syndrome. I fear that, one day, our 14-year-old will discover his father has said this about him, and it will crush him that his father used a falsified diagnosis as the reason for ignoring what his son has stated time and time again.
And even though the boys would care if they did know, what they're aware of right now is that Fuck is not yelling at them anymore.
He's not making their lives harder anymore.
And that's good for them.
And that makes me feel good on some level.
But it makes me super uncomfortable, knowing that it could come back at any time. Knowing that it WILL come back at some point. And even if he was to get everything that he wanted from this court settlement, which he simply cannot, this peaceful time in his life will end. At some point, the boys will ask for something or say something or behave in some way that isn't appropriate in his crazy world, and then they will, once again, be victims to his insane mood swings and abuse. It will not be better. It's a disguise for the court. A lie while people are looking.
I've got to trust our lawyer.
I've just got to.
It's too much for me to handle or think about if I don't.
And my mother made a good point to me yesterday at our weekly lunch: I can't take care of everybody all the time. I take on far more responsibility for those boys than I should sometimes, because I feel the need to make up for their father's failings. I want them to know that they are valuable people in a way that their father should be doing but never has. That's not my responsibility. It is my responsibility to take care of myself. Like a lifeguard, I have to guard my life first so that I'm able to help others. No matter what I do, it will not change the fact that those boys have an abusive father who lies and manipulates them to their own detriment. I will never be able to change that.
Those thoughts don't help me, either.
I've just gotta trust our lawyer.
And think about it being "over" in 23 days.
Please, let it be over in 23 days.
23 days until something happens.
As it is, nothing has happened except that Fuck has increased his bullying.
He has filed for sole custody without any reason, evidence or provable case.
Our attorney is baffled that his attorney is allowing this to continue.
She believes that his attorney is milking Fuck, trying to get as much money from him as possible.
That, or they are both monumentally stupid.
In either case, it's disturbing that this kind of behavior takes place in our world.
I try not to think about it.
But my hands still get charged with electricity. They are tingly with my anger and anxiety.
I try to vent it.
But it doesn't ever get out of my system.
Something brings it back, either me or some new piece of information.
Right now, they boys are happier than they've been in quite some time.
They don't know that Fuck is pushing for sole custody.
They don't know that he's trying to sue us for money that he has never asked for and has refused when we've offered it.
They don't know that he's not listening to them.
They don't know that he's told the court that our 14-year-old isn't mentally capable of deciding where he wants to live because of his severe Asperger's Syndrome. I fear that, one day, our 14-year-old will discover his father has said this about him, and it will crush him that his father used a falsified diagnosis as the reason for ignoring what his son has stated time and time again.
And even though the boys would care if they did know, what they're aware of right now is that Fuck is not yelling at them anymore.
He's not making their lives harder anymore.
And that's good for them.
And that makes me feel good on some level.
But it makes me super uncomfortable, knowing that it could come back at any time. Knowing that it WILL come back at some point. And even if he was to get everything that he wanted from this court settlement, which he simply cannot, this peaceful time in his life will end. At some point, the boys will ask for something or say something or behave in some way that isn't appropriate in his crazy world, and then they will, once again, be victims to his insane mood swings and abuse. It will not be better. It's a disguise for the court. A lie while people are looking.
I've got to trust our lawyer.
I've just got to.
It's too much for me to handle or think about if I don't.
And my mother made a good point to me yesterday at our weekly lunch: I can't take care of everybody all the time. I take on far more responsibility for those boys than I should sometimes, because I feel the need to make up for their father's failings. I want them to know that they are valuable people in a way that their father should be doing but never has. That's not my responsibility. It is my responsibility to take care of myself. Like a lifeguard, I have to guard my life first so that I'm able to help others. No matter what I do, it will not change the fact that those boys have an abusive father who lies and manipulates them to their own detriment. I will never be able to change that.
Those thoughts don't help me, either.
I've just gotta trust our lawyer.
And think about it being "over" in 23 days.
Please, let it be over in 23 days.
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