So I don't even know how to start this. I know that some people reading this will assume that I have been negligent or irresponsible with what you have given me, and maybe that's true. But right now? Right now, I am asking that you look past the sins of the forefathers and look to the wishes and desires of my children's heart. And maybe some Christians will condemn me and say this is simply what I rightly deserve having left their dad, and yet, both you and I know that if I stayed there I'd be dead right now.
But here's the thing. It's Christmas. And due to circumstances beyond my control and despite me having done the just thing, I am without family to celebrate Christmas with. Despite my carefully laid plans of ways to gain some extra cash to help make ends meet, I am still left without the ability to pay off bills, buy food, finish buying presents and no family to celebrate Christmas with.
I was invited to spend Christmas with a family in AB. It would have been a wonderful Christmas. We would have had snow on Christmas morning, and people to celebrate Christmas with, people that cared and celebrated who my children are. People that would have showered my children in the love and affection that they don't rightly get from their own blood.
But I cannot give them that. I can barely give them food for the table and a roof over their head. I can barely meet their day to day needs, let alone give them a dream.
And so Lord, I ask that as you look down on us this Christmas, can you see a way to make a Christmas dream come true for my kids? I promise in the New Year, I will put my shoulder back to the grindstone. I will sacrifice myself in order to make up for this.
I guess, Lord, what I am asking is for some grace and mercy here. And a Christmas miracle.
Thanks,
just me the single mom
Monday, December 19, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Christmas and Birthdays
For those of you watching my fb account, you will see a number of pictures of Christmas in my new house. All of them include stockings hung by the chimney with care. There is a reason for my insanity. You see, when I was little, we read and were read "The Night Before Christmas." Our book had beautiful pictures of tow headed children in onesie pajamas with the button flap at the bum reaching on tip toe to hang their stocking on a fireplace that housed a roaring, snappping, crackling fire. This was my version of Norman Rockwell. And so it was birthed in me. My dream to have that picture, for me and as I got older for my children.
Christmas was always a magical time for me. Yet don't think, that it was without trauma. One Christmas we woke to news of a beloved friend's passing, unjustly I might add. One Christmas, saw a major war between my parents that resulted in anger and yelling and screaming and tears and the inevitable silent treatment and tension thick enough to slice with a knife. And yet, Christmas remained magical.
And now as an adult, come Nov 1, Christmas music plays at my house. Come the first Sat in Dec, we have a tree decorating day and night with movies, music and treats. My children are somewhat sick of it all, at least some of them are, but I make them participate? Why? Because Christmas is magical for me.
And now I digress for a bit. The magicalness of Christmas is mirrored in birthdays for me. Many of you have seen pictures on my fb of the somewhat insane birthday parties I throw for my kids. And yet again, there is a method to my insanity. I have hosted such birthday parties as: Jedi knight training party, sword and the stone party, a live version of Clue, a Mani Pedi party, a wine and cheese party, a backwards party, a princess party, a limo driven night on the town party a survivor party. Many times people look at me and shake their heads at me, thinking I am simply crazy without a cure. Again, all done intentionally with purpose.
For you see, when I was but a wee one, birthdays and Christmas were my days. And by that I mean that they were the only days I got to be somebody. For 2 days, out of 365, I was celebrated, I was rejoiced in, I was honoured, I was loved. The other 363 days I was hurt, abused, emotionally beat on, used for whatever purpose saw fit at the time, downtrodden, ignored, devalued, terrorized, bullied, forgotten and un-noticed. I was a nothing. Except for two days. For two days I was a something.
And so my insanity is two fold. From a wee one, I learned to live in the quiet celebration of those two days. I say quiet because the days leading up met with the descriptives above. But internally, I was anticipating, dreaming, fantasizing, and celebrating. I created my own internal anticipatory celebration of the two days I got to be a SOMETHING. And then the day, the magical, wondrous, dreamlike day arrived for me!!! I got to BE!!!!!
And I carried this with me. Yet now, as an adult, my celebration does not have to remain hidden and internal. I run my house and so, I can celebrate externally, I get to hold onto the fact that I get to BE!!!! Until normalcy sets in and I go back to being a nothing.
And I do it for my kids. I want them to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they ARE! And who they ARE is beyond descriptive words. And so I plan their parties with them and the anticipation grows and they see the effort I put in and they KNOW. They are SOMETHING!!!!! They are VALUABLE and WORTHY and LOVED BEYOND MEASURE!!!!!!!!!! They see me plan Christmas, with anticipation of their joy. And they KNOW. THEY ARE SOMETHING!!!! Part of this comes from my stuff. I know that. Part of it does come from what I never got to experience and yet, part of this comes from me trying to ensure that the good in their lives stays and the bad falls away. I know we are not supposed to, as parents, live vicariously through our children. But I can't help but wonder, if in this case, is it such a bad thing?
Christmas was always a magical time for me. Yet don't think, that it was without trauma. One Christmas we woke to news of a beloved friend's passing, unjustly I might add. One Christmas, saw a major war between my parents that resulted in anger and yelling and screaming and tears and the inevitable silent treatment and tension thick enough to slice with a knife. And yet, Christmas remained magical.
And now as an adult, come Nov 1, Christmas music plays at my house. Come the first Sat in Dec, we have a tree decorating day and night with movies, music and treats. My children are somewhat sick of it all, at least some of them are, but I make them participate? Why? Because Christmas is magical for me.
And now I digress for a bit. The magicalness of Christmas is mirrored in birthdays for me. Many of you have seen pictures on my fb of the somewhat insane birthday parties I throw for my kids. And yet again, there is a method to my insanity. I have hosted such birthday parties as: Jedi knight training party, sword and the stone party, a live version of Clue, a Mani Pedi party, a wine and cheese party, a backwards party, a princess party, a limo driven night on the town party a survivor party. Many times people look at me and shake their heads at me, thinking I am simply crazy without a cure. Again, all done intentionally with purpose.
For you see, when I was but a wee one, birthdays and Christmas were my days. And by that I mean that they were the only days I got to be somebody. For 2 days, out of 365, I was celebrated, I was rejoiced in, I was honoured, I was loved. The other 363 days I was hurt, abused, emotionally beat on, used for whatever purpose saw fit at the time, downtrodden, ignored, devalued, terrorized, bullied, forgotten and un-noticed. I was a nothing. Except for two days. For two days I was a something.
And so my insanity is two fold. From a wee one, I learned to live in the quiet celebration of those two days. I say quiet because the days leading up met with the descriptives above. But internally, I was anticipating, dreaming, fantasizing, and celebrating. I created my own internal anticipatory celebration of the two days I got to be a SOMETHING. And then the day, the magical, wondrous, dreamlike day arrived for me!!! I got to BE!!!!!
And I carried this with me. Yet now, as an adult, my celebration does not have to remain hidden and internal. I run my house and so, I can celebrate externally, I get to hold onto the fact that I get to BE!!!! Until normalcy sets in and I go back to being a nothing.
And I do it for my kids. I want them to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they ARE! And who they ARE is beyond descriptive words. And so I plan their parties with them and the anticipation grows and they see the effort I put in and they KNOW. They are SOMETHING!!!!! They are VALUABLE and WORTHY and LOVED BEYOND MEASURE!!!!!!!!!! They see me plan Christmas, with anticipation of their joy. And they KNOW. THEY ARE SOMETHING!!!! Part of this comes from my stuff. I know that. Part of it does come from what I never got to experience and yet, part of this comes from me trying to ensure that the good in their lives stays and the bad falls away. I know we are not supposed to, as parents, live vicariously through our children. But I can't help but wonder, if in this case, is it such a bad thing?
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Walking Dead
Before I post this, I need to post a preface. There are a few of you that will understand on a very integral level what exactly this means. To the rest, I hope that these words strike a chord and give you hope!
Walking Dead
We walk amongst the living
Flesh wrappings are our dress
We look and speak and sound the same
Our hearts no longer in our chest
We are the walking dead
Living, breathing lies,
Fleshly robes around us,
Emptiness in our eyes
Should you listen carefully,
Take notice of our words
You'll find although we speak the same,
Our meanings are not heard
Should you stop and look
You'll see we look like you
But if you dig down deep enough
There's nothing further from the truth
For you see our chests beat empty
Bloodied tears fall from our eyes
If you listen carefully
We're walking, breathing lies.
Walking dead
Walking Dead
We walk amongst the living
Flesh wrappings are our dress
We look and speak and sound the same
Our hearts no longer in our chest
We are the walking dead
Living, breathing lies,
Fleshly robes around us,
Emptiness in our eyes
Should you listen carefully,
Take notice of our words
You'll find although we speak the same,
Our meanings are not heard
Should you stop and look
You'll see we look like you
But if you dig down deep enough
There's nothing further from the truth
For you see our chests beat empty
Bloodied tears fall from our eyes
If you listen carefully
We're walking, breathing lies.
Walking dead
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Acting an all things creative
Now we have been in this game many times before. It's an interesting "hurry up and wait" scenario And can be very frustrating but that's when it pays to be a "reader." It's interesting, this business and the politics that go with it. For those of you that know Jamie, he is quite a charismatic soul. And he is the clown of our family. So it makes a natural cross over to acting. But as soon as you do this, the warnings come about child actors. Don't let them do this, make sure they don't do that.
I really do understand the concern. It's a dangerous world and a lot of that, for whatever reason becomes centralized in the film industry. So I really do understand the concern. One thing I am curious about though, is how everyone who gives the advice must think I am a complete moron and incompetent parent to not know the dangers in the industry. But I guess it is what it is.
Well, Jamie and I were watching a movie, a kids movie although I forget what it is at the moment....hold on checking with the kids.......Starstruck is the title. So Jamie and I were watching Starstruck and he turns and says to me. Mom...don't ever let that happen to me. I don't want all that.
I had not prompted this, but suffice it to say, I was thrilled and proud to hear him say it. In a sense, Jamie saw some of the dangers of this business and asked to be kept from it. Which makes me realize my son is a little wiser than I thought, and makes me a little more confident about entering this business.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Throw Away Girl
Throw Away Girl
She looked at him with pleading
eyes
Would he see through
her disguise?
One moment when her
guard was down
The pasted smile to
hide the frown
Chorus: She’s a throw
away girl
That
no one sees
A
throw away girl
A
living disease
Externally, she’s light
and bright
Nothing to betray her
fight
She laughs and giggles
life away
Hoping praying someone
would stay
No one sees gut
wrenching tears
From her heart that
bleeds her fears
A life of charm, the Midas
touch
No one knows her hidden
crutch
Will you be the one to
know?
The life of hell
beneath the glow?
Will you be the one to
stand?
Walk beside, hold her
hand?
©Kristie de Jong Nov. 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
My House, my home...
So it is 2011 and I sit in the kitchen amidst a million boxes, the sun pouring in, my first cup of coffee and a head full of dreams.My dog is whining at the porch door, my cat is on the back of my chair. Oftentimes, there are two yearly points that people will stop and assess their life: New Year's being the obvious one and then September when the kids go back to school. But, as par for the course of my unusual life, I don't stop on those two points, in fact, I don't think I ever ponder at those two points. Rather it is moments like these when I think, when I ponder.
This year has been full of a number of things, some good, mostly bad. It started off with my being falsely accused of embezzlement. That particular episode started at the end of last year and rung in my new year. Not a great note to start on. This lasted a few months and ended with a severing of relationships as a result.
Next came my one vacation in 6 going on 7 years. It was a mini weekend escape. It was a time I remember with fondness. Upon arriving back home, I discovered that we had been robbed and stripped of nearly everything of value. This was followed by an assault and attempted robbery on my eldest son. The court case for this is still pending.
Summer was somewhat uneventful. I gave my daughter a brilliant 13th birthday. August was marked by a human rights tribunal complaint due to discrimination because I have children. That is still under investigation.
Then September hit and so did the Gang Task Force Invasion. You can read about that here. This was followed by more police involvement, another robbery. I believe I counted about 10 traumatic events in 20 days. And thus the more intentional search for a house ( which we found).
And then we had puppies and I had to paint and clean one house, while packing and cleaning the other house. And then we moved.
So here I sit, among unopened, and opened boxes, in a house that is partially painted and partially cleaned. And apart from being terribly sleepy, I think I am content (unless that's just the sleepiness kicking in.)
And I ponder. And dream for the good things in this house. For you see this house is already something of a dream. No, I do not own it. I wish I did. But it has many things I've dreamed of. I grew up with a wood burning fireplace. Here there are now banned unless you have a house with one in it already. And now? Well, I have two! I have a large master bedroom with two closets and a half bath ensuite. More things I have wished for. I have a house with lots of windows so the sun can get in everywhere. The front of the house faces east, the back west. I have enough bedrooms for the kids and a great rec/games room. I have a big back yard. I have a wrap around deck for summer barbeques. I also have an unfinished room that I hope to turn into an office. I have a house, but more importantly I have a home.I have a park right next to me.
So as I sit this morning and looik at the mountains outside, I ponder and I wish. I wish for many things in this house. I hope to be remarried. I hope to hear the pitter patter of baby feet once again. But most of all, I wish for peace and safety for me and my kids.
My little guy looked up at me as he drowsily fell asleep and said to me two things: I trust this house Mommy, I trust it because I slept it in and it was good. And then he said, Thank you Mommy for getting us a house that is safe....
This year has been full of a number of things, some good, mostly bad. It started off with my being falsely accused of embezzlement. That particular episode started at the end of last year and rung in my new year. Not a great note to start on. This lasted a few months and ended with a severing of relationships as a result.
Next came my one vacation in 6 going on 7 years. It was a mini weekend escape. It was a time I remember with fondness. Upon arriving back home, I discovered that we had been robbed and stripped of nearly everything of value. This was followed by an assault and attempted robbery on my eldest son. The court case for this is still pending.
Summer was somewhat uneventful. I gave my daughter a brilliant 13th birthday. August was marked by a human rights tribunal complaint due to discrimination because I have children. That is still under investigation.
Then September hit and so did the Gang Task Force Invasion. You can read about that here. This was followed by more police involvement, another robbery. I believe I counted about 10 traumatic events in 20 days. And thus the more intentional search for a house ( which we found).
And then we had puppies and I had to paint and clean one house, while packing and cleaning the other house. And then we moved.
So here I sit, among unopened, and opened boxes, in a house that is partially painted and partially cleaned. And apart from being terribly sleepy, I think I am content (unless that's just the sleepiness kicking in.)
And I ponder. And dream for the good things in this house. For you see this house is already something of a dream. No, I do not own it. I wish I did. But it has many things I've dreamed of. I grew up with a wood burning fireplace. Here there are now banned unless you have a house with one in it already. And now? Well, I have two! I have a large master bedroom with two closets and a half bath ensuite. More things I have wished for. I have a house with lots of windows so the sun can get in everywhere. The front of the house faces east, the back west. I have enough bedrooms for the kids and a great rec/games room. I have a big back yard. I have a wrap around deck for summer barbeques. I also have an unfinished room that I hope to turn into an office. I have a house, but more importantly I have a home.I have a park right next to me.
So as I sit this morning and looik at the mountains outside, I ponder and I wish. I wish for many things in this house. I hope to be remarried. I hope to hear the pitter patter of baby feet once again. But most of all, I wish for peace and safety for me and my kids.
My little guy looked up at me as he drowsily fell asleep and said to me two things: I trust this house Mommy, I trust it because I slept it in and it was good. And then he said, Thank you Mommy for getting us a house that is safe....
Monday, October 24, 2011
SWA (Superwoman Anonymous)
Hi! My name is Kristie de Jong and I am NOT a Superwoman. Although I suppose I look like it at times. BUT I am NOT superwoman. In fact, all I am is a simple girl with big dreams. However, I can see how some might think I am.
Let's recap: in the last five years I have survived, overcome, kicked and screamed through, gritted my teeth and held on while (insert favorite descriptive here) more crises than most people know exist.
I have: separated from an abusive husband who raped me
-re-entered University
-graduated with my BA in Honors Psychology
-raised three children
-taught said children HOW to have a healthy relationship with aforementioned ex
-fought through numerous career crushing rumours
-managed through numerous social services investigations disproving all rumours and accusations
-nearly obtained my MA in Counseling Psychology (thesis outstanding)
-survived rape while in University
-sold my marital home
-made an urgent move to a new address after the rape
-started a few different businesses (including my private practice)
-having to call 911 at various points to ensure my children's safety
-continuing abuse from my x
-accusations from a guy I "dated" that included my stalking him and B & E in his house
-ongoing estrangement from family because I will not subscribe to their mental/emotional abuse
-family siding with x
-having my life blogged about with blogs being laced with accusations, lies. rumors, slander and libel enough to upset my chi children
AND THIS YEAR ALONE:
-survived two robberies
-had my son assaulted
-waded (and still wading) through a human rights complaint
-discriminated against because I have children
-threatened with legal action
-accused of fraud and keeping funds for self gain (is that rightly called embezzlement?)
AND SINCE SEPTEMBER
-gang task force and SWAT descending on my property
-children trapped in the house whilst said SWAT and GTF were active on property
-police called on me for no reason
-verbal attacks by neighbors due to said SWAT and GTF (insert second roobery)
-son's accused floating on the outside of our lives (despite a no contact order)
-another urgent move (due to aforementioned GTF and SWAT)
-CSI investigation on property
-guns trained on my house during said SWAT and GTF investigation
-family members continuing to abuse by telling me that I have no right to fight for myself or my children, we should expect discrimination and suck it up and live in a shit hole because I am NO princess and deserve nothing better
-fighting with the current landlord to not enter my house without me there
-my dog being beat
-fighting with future landlord over safety concerns with the new house
-cleaning and painting new house
-packing and painting
-working two jobs
-managing the mental health of my children
(that's all I can remenber)
(and that's only the last couple years)
BUT
I
AM
NOT
SUPER
WOMAN
in fact, I am just a simple girl. I cry........ALOT. and I am weak. and I wish for someone to come along and help me with things. But no one offers. So I go it alone. I wish it were different and if it were me, I likely would go it alone. For you see, I am nothing more than those family members suggested. But my children are better. They are not THAT. They are amazing and they deserve the best of the best and so I fight for their sake. They have unheard of and untold hell as their life experience and yet their spirits are beautiful and amazing and joyous to be around. And so for them, I fight. For they deserve all those amazing things. And I die inside because I have nothing left. People "hear": and "see" my life but no one stands with me. They all remain outside observers with no one thinking that maybe, just maybe I cannot manage. Maybe, just maybe I need a hand. But everyone has lives, everyone has an issue or a something that prevents them from reaching out. And I will not ask,. I will NOT be a burden. I may not be superwoman, but I will not be a burden.
And so I keep going.
I cry.
I fall apart.
I scream.l
I stop functioning.
But all that needs doing gets done. For my kids. I show up to their field trips even if it means 5 sleepless nights to ensure the rest gets done.
And then I crash.
Cry
Weep
Bleed
Die
and although I look like Superwoman, I am NOT
Hi!
My name is Kristie de Jong
And I am NOT superwoman......
Let's recap: in the last five years I have survived, overcome, kicked and screamed through, gritted my teeth and held on while (insert favorite descriptive here) more crises than most people know exist.
I have: separated from an abusive husband who raped me
-re-entered University
-graduated with my BA in Honors Psychology
-raised three children
-taught said children HOW to have a healthy relationship with aforementioned ex
-fought through numerous career crushing rumours
-managed through numerous social services investigations disproving all rumours and accusations
-nearly obtained my MA in Counseling Psychology (thesis outstanding)
-survived rape while in University
-sold my marital home
-made an urgent move to a new address after the rape
-started a few different businesses (including my private practice)
-having to call 911 at various points to ensure my children's safety
-continuing abuse from my x
-accusations from a guy I "dated" that included my stalking him and B & E in his house
-ongoing estrangement from family because I will not subscribe to their mental/emotional abuse
-family siding with x
-having my life blogged about with blogs being laced with accusations, lies. rumors, slander and libel enough to upset my chi children
AND THIS YEAR ALONE:
-survived two robberies
-had my son assaulted
-waded (and still wading) through a human rights complaint
-discriminated against because I have children
-threatened with legal action
-accused of fraud and keeping funds for self gain (is that rightly called embezzlement?)
AND SINCE SEPTEMBER
-gang task force and SWAT descending on my property
-children trapped in the house whilst said SWAT and GTF were active on property
-police called on me for no reason
-verbal attacks by neighbors due to said SWAT and GTF (insert second roobery)
-son's accused floating on the outside of our lives (despite a no contact order)
-another urgent move (due to aforementioned GTF and SWAT)
-CSI investigation on property
-guns trained on my house during said SWAT and GTF investigation
-family members continuing to abuse by telling me that I have no right to fight for myself or my children, we should expect discrimination and suck it up and live in a shit hole because I am NO princess and deserve nothing better
-fighting with the current landlord to not enter my house without me there
-my dog being beat
-fighting with future landlord over safety concerns with the new house
-cleaning and painting new house
-packing and painting
-working two jobs
-managing the mental health of my children
(that's all I can remenber)
(and that's only the last couple years)
BUT
I
AM
NOT
SUPER
WOMAN
in fact, I am just a simple girl. I cry........ALOT. and I am weak. and I wish for someone to come along and help me with things. But no one offers. So I go it alone. I wish it were different and if it were me, I likely would go it alone. For you see, I am nothing more than those family members suggested. But my children are better. They are not THAT. They are amazing and they deserve the best of the best and so I fight for their sake. They have unheard of and untold hell as their life experience and yet their spirits are beautiful and amazing and joyous to be around. And so for them, I fight. For they deserve all those amazing things. And I die inside because I have nothing left. People "hear": and "see" my life but no one stands with me. They all remain outside observers with no one thinking that maybe, just maybe I cannot manage. Maybe, just maybe I need a hand. But everyone has lives, everyone has an issue or a something that prevents them from reaching out. And I will not ask,. I will NOT be a burden. I may not be superwoman, but I will not be a burden.
And so I keep going.
I cry.
I fall apart.
I scream.l
I stop functioning.
But all that needs doing gets done. For my kids. I show up to their field trips even if it means 5 sleepless nights to ensure the rest gets done.
And then I crash.
Cry
Weep
Bleed
Die
and although I look like Superwoman, I am NOT
Hi!
My name is Kristie de Jong
And I am NOT superwoman......
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