I want to thank the three of you who sent my family gifts of love.

THANK YOU for your giving heart. When I told my mother about what I'd received, I was in tears. Not so much because of what was sent... but the love that was shown.

Many of you have never met me, yet you express such encouragement and care. Words cannot express my gratitude.

To you who sent the school books... they WILL get used! I know we're moving out of the "homeschooling" route. But I would miss teaching too much to abandon it, completely.

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Today was a busy day.

SCHOOL TIME...

The 15 year old experienced "orientation". She desired to attend public high school, and I nervously agreed.

With all of the stress building steadily, and the constant turmoil and upheavals at home, there are great "holes" in the children's schooling. Big "gaps".

This is just a "trial run". We'll see how it goes.

A counselor here at the shelter drove her to the town we'll be moving to, and stayed with her until she was comfortable. It was the first day. She'll be attending as a freshman.

I have made the difficult choice to allow three of the other children to also attend school.

I found a Mennonite church that serves the new community we'll be moving to. I am planning on learning whether or not my younger children might be able to attend the school, there.

It would please me, considerably, to know that their learning was Christian-based. I understand that Parochial schools cost a lot of money, otherwise...   

HELLO, DOCTOR...

My oldest daughter had an appointment with an eye doctor. She was having some headaches and suchlike. We thought it wise to have her seen to rule out the need for glasses.

The dear girl has perfect vision! The doctor suggested she see a family practitioner if her headaches continued.

I saw a doctor for a physical.

I have a mammogram being scheduled for the lump/pain in my breast and had an x-ray of my lungs, as the bronchitis has gone deeper. I was also given some medication to help with my persistent migraines. One of which I've fought all day, today. Ouch.

Meanwhile, I came back "home" to the abuse shelter to learn that the six-year-old's fever had returned. The seven-year-old was complaining of headache and was flushed with a mild fever.

There must be some sort of virus floating around, here.

Thankfully, I had children's Tylenol to administer. They're doing well, now. Everyone's sleeping soundly, and I'm looking forward to joining them in "Slumberland"!

THE LEGAL FRONT...

While waiting for the bus to take us back to the shelter, my attorney phoned to notify me that my husband has obtained a new attorney.

She admitted that this new gentleman is known by the courts as being "cut-throat" and "going for the jugular", and warned me that I had very difficult fights to look forward to, but that I should take heart. The judge is aware of the type of attorney this fellow is, and that such a fact is always something taken into account.

She also told me that my husband desired to have a "re-trial" for custody and the obtained restraining order. He didn't like how the judge ruled, at the last hearing, and wants to contest it.

I understand that, legally, he had only ten days to do this. Today was the last day he could have ordered it, not including Labor Day.

I am praying that my attorney heard no more prior to leaving her office for the day. The last thing I want to do is "re-hash" everything once again...

YIPPEE!

I have some exciting news!

I received another phone call, today, too. Apparently, the woman that is in the house we're due to move into "by the 19th of September" did a complete job, packing up her belongings. So much so that the transitional housing staff was able to do a "walk through" today, and will (Lord willing) be taking a truck load of furniture to the house, tomorrow, for us!

We will be able to move into our new home this week, Thursday!

VROOM! VROOM!

Tomorrow is Wednesday.

My oldest daughter and I had hope to go to the DMV and take the written portion of the drivers' test so we each can, then, shoot for the probationary license.

I will let everyone know what happens. It would be such a blessing if we could obtain our drivers' licenses.

For many reasons!

Thank you all for your wonderful reminders of God's love. You are such a gift to me, and I am thankful that the Lord brought us "together"!

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A lot has happened since I last updated this blog.

I cannot help but wonder how many of you got tired of checking in to see if I’d written anything, yet.

Where do I begin?

I went to court on the 18th. And, happily, I was represented.

The courtroom was full of people my husband dragged in to testify for him. People to support him. They saw him as a hurting, pained individual abused by the system and tortured by an unkind, thoughtless wife.

The hearing went on forever. It was physically as well as emotionally wearying.

No ruling was made, but my husband had his attorney beg the court for at least one visit with the children while we awaited the next court hearing. Every suggestion posed I agreed with.

But, not my husband.

He argued logistics for over an hour.

I found the whole thing sickening. For someone who so desperately missed his children, he was finding a lot of excuses not to see them.

Had it been me, I know for fact I would have jumped through any hoops handed me. I would have breathed, “Anyplace! Anytime! Just tell me where to go and when!”

I thought I would be the one with the most negative reaction toward the supervised visit, the following day. I rushed around cleaning, feeding, packing for, and reassuring children who were in tears.

“He’ll take me away and won’t let me see you again, like last time, Mommy!”

I felt resentment at how easy everything was handed my husband who had to do nothing, as usual, but show up and play. All the “grunt work” was done.

When the children returned, the baby fussed from her stroller when she saw me. I picked her up, and she began a tantrum shortly thereafter. She’s never cried like that. Ever. It was almost as though she’d eaten something that upset her tummy. Nothing I did soothed her. I still don’t know what that was all about…

I gave the children baths that night. They had been sent back to me un-wiped, and covered in cake and frosting. I’d just finished washing the three youngest little ones, and the six-year-old was on his way into the bubble water.

“Dad told me not to listen to you, Mom.” He said as I gathered wet towels and dirty clothing.

“Oh really?” I asked casually, “Why would he say that?”

”He says you’re bad. But I’m going to listen to you, anyway. I love you. I don’t think you’re bad.”

I smiled and proceeded to the office to speak with the crises counselor on duty. There, I fell into a chair and cried.

For the next several days, I listened to, “I don’t have to listen to you!” whenever my little son didn’t like what I had to say.

At 2am, the night of the children’s supervised visit, the three-year-old came to my bed, as always. He lugged with him the enormous gift bag that was brought back the evening before.  

He crawled underneath the covers, and we went back to sleep.

At 3am, however, he woke screaming and hollering angrily. His cries quickly turned into a full-blown tantrum, and he responded to none of my attempts to calm him. This has never happened before.

Apparently visits with Daddy will spark a lot of abnormal behavior. There will be countless adjustments. For all of us.

Since their visit, other disturbing things have surfaced as well. Pictures of me being “cut up” while my husband sat at a picnic bench, other statements made to the children…

The children chat. I do not ask questions or “grill” for information. I do not want to be like that. I feel that in time my husband’s “true colors” will be apparent on their own. I don’t want to make any of this more stressful on the little ones.

On the 22^nd, four days since we’d been in court last, we returned. My husband proceeded to fire his attorney, insisting to the court that he could do a better job.

The witnesses that he brought up to testify on his behalf actually hurt, rather than helped, his case.

To make a long story shorter, I was granted a four-year extension on the restraining order. I am no longer frightened at the thought of moving out of the shelter.

I was also granted full temporary placement and custody of the children. My husband will have supervised visits on weekends, and telephonic visits three times per week.

Since court, my husband has apparently found another attorney to represent him and I am fearful of what faces me, next.

He has also dug around trying to locate my ex-husbands in an attempt to stir up trouble. And he’s distributing my property.

He can give away whatever he will. He can contact whoever he desires. Nothing he does will change the truth. It can embarrass me, but it will not hurt me.

As usual, what he’s meant for evil has often been a blessing and a boon.

I was married twice before. This is why I fought so hard to make this present marriage work. My past is utterly shameful and humiliating. I despise it.

My first husband was out of touch and paid support erratically. The oldest children have asked about him a lot these last months, but I did not know his address.

Frankly, my husband would have been irate if I’d even tried to locate him.

What a terrific thing it was, therefore, when he contacted my aunt. Although he didn’t leave a message, caller ID showed his phone number. I was able to call him and “bridge” contact between himself and the girls. They’re utterly thrilled to be back in touch.

I’m assuming my husband has also attempted to contact my second husband. There was a great deal of gross physical and sexual abuse in that marriage and I left a year after marrying. My third child was only a year old.

My ex-husband had told me that he would not be a “part time father”. It was all or nothing, and he held to that. No support. No contact, despite my attempts the first two years at sending photos and suchlike.

My adult life is nothing but a trashed grouping of years. Can you all see that?!

I hate myself.  

My journey is mortifying and shameful.

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Many of you have requested a mailing address for care packages and cards as we ready to leave the shelter for our new home in approximately two weeks.

Email me and I will forward you the proper address.

I do not want to post it here, due to my desire for anonymity.

Thank you for understanding!

Some of you have asked about homeschooling items we are in need of, too. The preschoolers, first and second graders were using Rod and Staff, but are hungry for any type of age appropriate work.

The olders were using consumer math books and pre-GED type books to see where they were at and "round out" their last months of learning. The sixth grader is especially interested in science and history, and needs remedial work in mathematics.

Please, please be honest if you would like payment for anything that you might send! And THANK YOU for helping me continue teaching my children!

Presently, a crises counselor takes trips to the local library to check out educational materials for the children. But I admit I miss the worksheets, pasting, workbooks and other fun stuff to do with the littles and even correcting the olders' work!

Imagine!

Have a beautiful weekend!

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We have...

REPRESENTATION!

When Wednesday rolled around, I set my jaw and forced myself to call, call, call until something was worked out! I had to with only two working days left for any lawyer to then work on presenting my case.

A woman in the same office as the lawyer who aided me in obtaining a restraining order at the last hearing, will be representing me on Monday. Everything was falling through, and no one was willing to take my case...

I tried calling Legal Action again for help. They had thought my chances at winning were dismal at best. But, after our last hearing, surely she would reconsider.

No return call.

I tried calling the District Attorney. The most he could do was tell me he had finished his report and would be there for the next hearing but was not sure about whether or not charges would be pressed against my husband.

Please, he told me, please, please get a lawyer!

"You need representation!"

"I'm trying!" was my feeble cry.

After every phone call, as was my custom for days, I would hang up my cell phone, cry a little and then pick the phone up again after taking a deep breath.

To make a long story shorter (it's again midnight, as I'm readying to head to bed -- I only had 15 minutes to throw a few words on here as an update!), a woman lawyer will be representing me on Monday pro-bono.

The shelter has filled out an application for a stipend grant from WCADV (Wisconsin Coalition Against Domestic Violence) to help cover future expenses for her services as this case could go on for quite a while. It is not "cut and dried" and is, instead, very complicated.

Please pray for us, this weekend. Come Monday, I'll be back in the courtroom testifying for my babies.

God bless all of you for your love and care.

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Another day is done and through.

I must just be tired. I'm feeling worn thin and oh-so-weak!

I am feeling negative about the lawyer situation. And I'm feeling sad, period.

As we sat on the bus, today, I saw families walking in and out of stores together. I remembered the children's first phone call with their daddy, last week... and that familiar voice on the other line. So much history...

Would I go back? No, but it still hurts.

Everything hurts.

I am sick and tired of the pain, the wonderings, the worries, just everything.

We got an enormous "voucher" for the Goodwill store, this morning, from the crises worker that was on staff. We shopped 'til we dropped!

The children have "new" shoes, clothes...

It was hard checking out though. Pulling out that huge pink paper voucher was like a statement in and of itself.

I'm a "leech" to the system, to organizations, to everyone. I am taking handouts to survive and it's HARD!

I want to be independent again!

I hardly remember the woman I used to be before I got married to my husband. I used to be strong, happy... I had dreams and aspirations...

Now?

Now I am homeless with eight children... that I've torn away from family life.

I'm just feeling really down.

I'll feel better in the morning ...

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I just wanted to submit an entry, tonight, thanking all of you who have prayed for and encouraged me when I've felt my weakest.

So many have told me (both online, here, as well as "in real life") that I am "strong".

Strong? -- I thought in wonder over that adjective for weeks!

I am NOT strong.

How many tears I have shed. How agonizing all this has been. How sobering it is to know that I am breaking up a family... and how awful to finally accept the treatment we received all these years as abuse.

When you're in an abusive relationship... you make excuses. You do not want to see what is happening. It is easier to change your thinking... adjust... change to try and fit your husband's wishes... try and find "reasons" for his acting as he does... and especially BLAME yourself.

See, if it is YOUR fault... you can FIX it.

Be a better wife.

Keep a cleaner house.

Don't let the toddler have a tantrum.

Make sure that the houseful is quiet so Daddy doesn't get angry.

Whatever it takes, do it. If you have your own opinions or feelings, ignore them. Blend your thinking to fit his knowing that if you don't, you'll be in trouble.

But, if you're being abused... it really IS bad. It really IS wrong. And it really is NOT your fault.

Thank you again for being with us and for us.

I do not feel I deserve the love you've shown me.

It is hard to accept kindness and warm words. But I thank you from the deepest depths of my heart.

This has been a horrid journey, and I'm not even somewhat through it, yet. I have so long to go. It's overwhelming and frightening.

But... I know I'm not alone.

I have my dear Lord... and others, including all of you.

Thank you.


One of you commented:
I'm so happy for you about how the court hearing went! The Lord truly did go before you and fight for you. Is it often that the District Attorney is personally involved in a case like this? I'm glad he was there to help you and fend off your angry Mother-in-law.
Are you still staying at the shelter, and how do you get money if you need it?
I'll keep praying for you and add that the Lord would provide all your needs.

I do not know if all districts utilize District Attorneys in this manner, or not. But I still stand wholly thankful to the Lord for putting him in our path. This DA has been such an aid in this mess.

Yes, we're still at the shelter. I was told it would be about two more weeks until our new home is ready for us to move in.

This is a home that falls under the "Transitional Housing" program conducted through this domestic abuse shelter. They help women like me get on their feet.

Knowing that most women who flee an abusive situation do so at great cost, leaving everything behind.

Everything within the home is furnished.

There is furniture, even sheets and pans and towels!

We're allowed to stay up to two years, which should be plenty of time to secure alternative housing. By then, I should have a steady income (prayerfully, home-based, at least part time, allowing me to remain home for the children), and have acquired necessary furnishings, etc...

As for how I get money when I need it... presently, I have none, except for some birthday money my mother sent me in a card!

I have dear relatives who help me when I need this or that... and the shelter furnishes us with toiletries and food and a roof over our heads.

Last week was approved for medical assistance and food stamps through the state.

I am receiving a lot of "handouts" and that is hard for me. But it is necessary, and I will take whatever is needed right now, to keep the children and I safe and healthy. I tell myself, "this is only temporary" and "these resources are put in place for times such as this".

I am no longer working, selling things online and at the Farmer's Market in town. I do not have access to my patterns, supplies, material, sewing machine, nothing. So... no income.

But, I trust in time I'll get those things back and can go back to selling to help support the children and I.

Some day, I desperately want to go to school and obtain the education I would need to work in a shelter such as this one.

Going through all of this has opened my eyes and heart to women in domestic violence situations. I want to help them.

That is years from now... probably after the children are much more grown... but it is a desire that has been growing within me.



Im am so happy things are starting to look better. The one thing that still suprises me is that the shelter you are staying at doesnt help in finding a lawyer. Seems they would be experienced in doing this.

You are a very courages woman and wonderful mother. Your children will never forget what you have done for them.

I do have to "stick up" for this shelter.

There is a crisis counselor, here, who specializes in the legal aspects of domestic abuse in relation to divorce/custody. She (and others) have been a great help.

But, no, there are absolutely no attorneys or lawyers that they are affiliated with that could help women like me.

There is a stipend available, upon filing an application for aid, with a group called the Women's Coalition Against Domestic Violence (the people here shorten/pronounce it, "WI-CAD-VEE".

I have a stack of papers, detailing over fifty attorneys, to go through tomorrow. I must phone each one and try to find SOMEone who will take a "pro-bono" case or that stipend through WCADV.

I am dreading it.

I'm absolutely dreading it.

I feel negative, and like I'll never find someone to represent me.

There was one attorney back home that I met with several months ago when my husband began threatening me, again, regarding the children and my being allowed access to them... I've been in contact with him and have been trying to find a way to get him... but his retainer is $2,500 and I just do not have that.

He wants that, down. And the stipend from WCADV is paid monthly as the attorney bills them.

He's good. He's won several tough, tough custody cases. And he's supportive, validating, and encouraging toward DV victims and their children.

But he's "out of reach". It's time to focus on other alternatives...

Truly, though, the shelter is operating the best they can. But there are only so many things they can do for women like me.

I must be thankful for the aid they have (and continue) to provide.



On another note, I'm getting used to the inhalation/bronchio-dilater devices the doctor prescribed. They help a lot.

Last night, I was able to lie down and go to sleep with only a little coughing. It was the first night in nearly two weeks I was able to rest!

(Praising You, Lord!)

The other two medications - the oral steroid for the lungs and the antibiotics - are surely helping, too. There is "movement", now, deep within my chest. It's an awful sensation, but I know it's a positive one, nonetheless.

Unfortunately, one of the doses of the five-day-round given me of antibiotics fell out of my hands, into the full kitchen trash basket, this morning.

I had peeled the foil wrapper off of it, and went to throw it into the garbage, when I coughed suddenly... losing not only the wrapper but the pill, too.

Ughhh...

Tomorrow afternoon (after I make all of my "lawyer calls"), I'm going to go to the pharmacy to see if they'll let me purchase a replacement  pill (see... my mother's birthday money... perfect timing...).

I talked to an elderly friend of ours, tonight. Something just pressed her to my heart and mind, late today. I felt a NEED to call her.

It's been a couple months... I hadn't wanted to get her "involved"... I didn't want to "put her in the middle" of this mess... so had kept out of touch for a long while, thinking I could phone her when things began to "settle down".

Would you believe that this very night, my husband stopped by her house?

He showed up on her doorstep, "out of the blue", wanting her to testify in court for him as a "character witness".

She was absolutely beside herself. She told him she didn't want to get involved. When he left, she said she was "shaking like a leaf"...

I felt so guilty.

So... I guess his lawyer is having him try to find people to show what a nice, respectable man he is. People to prove that "no way could this dear man have done anything despicable to his wife and kids!"
People... who do not live with him and could never know the "real him".

Today, the children and I packed a picnic lunch and we went for a walk down a trail along the river.

Then, we played at a park, nearby, before coming "home".

Tomorrow, I'm going to load up the children and travel the city bus, again. We hope to get to the Salvation Army for some skirts and dresses, and maybe a nighty or two (I only have one and it's looking kind of "rough"! And my daughters have only two dresses, like myself, and they're getting pretty worn out).

None of this was planned or expected...

I also wanted to stop at a grocery for a couple things (the shelter is great, but there are "perks" to having your own food that you can write your name on so no one else takes it.

The children like yogurt, for example, and there is one woman here who can literally eat fifteen to twenty of them in less than two days!). I'd like to get some of that and some fresh fruit and salad fixings!

All that plus the pharmacy...

Should be another great adventure!

The restraining order has brought such peace to us. It is a GIFT to be able to get OUT of this shelter long enough to breathe the air and feel the sun on our faces.

I noticed, tonight, when I washed my hands in the bathroom, that I actually have a sunburn on my forehead!

Who would have guessed that a sunburn could be a good thing?!


God bless all of you and may He continue to keep you in His precious care! Thank you, again.

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I want to apologize for not updating this blog for a while...

Some things I should cover with this entry are:

COURT
Court on the 5th didn't go nearly as bad as I thought it was going to.

When we arrived to the courthouse, I first went to the DA's office. There, he got further information and prepared me for the hearing to come.

Remember, I still did not have any representation, and when the court commissioner put me on the stand to testify and respond to my husband's attorney's questions and allegations, I was sure that was the end.

The district attorney told me not to worry about my husband and whoever else would be sitting in the courtroom on my husband's "side".

"Just look at me. I'll be over in the corner. You don't have to worry about him. He can't hurt you."

Amazingly, after just a few minutes, though, I learned that I wasn't frightened of him. I could look him directly in the eyes!

I am going to summarize in brief, now.

The questioning went on much longer than the judge had anticipated or set aside time for, so we had to break, and then recommence a couple hours later.

In that interim, I met again with the DA and was put in touch with a woman with Victim/Witness and she spoke with me for a while. She felt that a restraining order would be wise and in my best interest. So, an attorney was brought from across the street... a woman who does "pro bono" work... and we filled that form out.

When it was about time to go back into the courtroom, the DA informed me that my husband's attorney was going to now be asking him questions. I groaned inside. I could only imagine.

"You can ask him questions, too, you know." he said. "Just put your words into question form."

In the courtroom, I listened carefully to how my husband's attorney was questioning my husband. And, as he answered, and the falsehoods spilled forth, I got out my notepad and pen and began responding in question form!

I found that to be the highlight of the whole day! It was the first time that I was EVER able to speak to my husband, confront him with the truth, and NOT be cut off, interrupted, scolded, belittled or attacked!

I cross-examined my husband and it felt GOOD!

Even though many of my husband's answers were flat-out lies... the questions I posed at least put the truth "out there" for the court commissioner and others!

It was totally empowering!

Another neat thing was that the judge was a woman. My husband hates women. He thinks that NO man should EVER have to listen to a woman. Here he was at the mercy of one!

My mother-in-law, sister-in-law and brother-in-law were there, along with several church members. Some other girl was there, too. A friend of my husband's?

My mother-in-law could not control her courtroom behavior and was asked to leave. When all was over, she tried to get in my face, threateningly, saying that she hoped that the children would still be ALIVE by the time she again was allowed to see her grandchildren.

"That's ENOUGH!" shouted the District Attorney as I kept moving forward, and kept my eyes away from my mother-in-law.

The child services investigation report was on its way to the DA when court began in the morning. But he hadn't yet received it. He was waiting for the promised fax. Shortly before the first session ended, someone brought it in to him.

Because we had that investigation ... and the court commissioner had not seen it... and because there was domestic violence involved, no ruling was made.

We go back on the 18th to have the restraining order extended to four years, and to continue the courtroom proceedings for the issue of custody.

I agreed to two days per week of phone contact between my husband and the children.

Now I search for an attorney...


FREEDOM and ILLNESS!
The good thing about this restraining order I've obtained is that I can go outside with the children, again!

The first time we attempted to take a walk was Monday. Unfortunately, we were stopped a few blocks from the shelter by a woman in a car. She drove right up next to us and asked me, "Aren't those the children that are on this!?" and held up the "Missing Children" flyer my husband had posted all over, saying that they were with their "unstable" mother and in danger.

"Have you seen this?" she asked me, referring to that stupid sheet of photographs.

"Yes I have," I told her.

How I wish I'd had that restraining order with me right then to PROVE that I wasn't some crazy woman. Oh, it was so mortifying!

I didn't even want to walk any further. That woman had told me my husband had driven around "for days passing these out door to door."

Every house I passed, I felt that people were looking at me, thinking I was a nut!

I've been ill. The seven-year-old had a scheduled appointment with an optometrist. It was decided to pack up all six children, today, and take the city bus to the hospital/clinic. This included transfers.

I felt daring and brave!

The children did really well, though, all things considering.

I went to urgent care, where they felt breathing treatments were in order. I was given an inhaler treatment and several prescriptions. Hopefully my bronchitis will improve quickly.

I feel just awful!

Then... we made our way to the hospital cafeteria where we enjoyed a nice lunch together before heading to the eye appointment.

A full exam was given, a new prescription for corrective eyewear was written, and we chose our frames. My daughter will once again have glasses by the end of next week.

They said that if the glasses and patching do not help her lazy eye, we will need to make surgical arrangements.

After we were through at the hospital, it was time to head back on the bus. The little ones were reaching their limit by this time. They were more of a handful than they had been before.

We stopped at a ShopKo pharmacy and filled prescriptions, then the two little boys each bought themselves with birthday money "Grandma" had sent.

Time to make the bus transfer...

And finally... return to the shelter.

Ahhhh....

When those little ones went to sleep and all grew quiet, I felt great!

It was a good day. I didn't worry even once about running into my husband or in-laws until ShopKo. But I did have the restraining order with me. I was only concerned that excited children wandering all over new toy isles, separating, would cause problem.

It's late, and I'm tired. Time to close again.

Please forgive this "pieced" entry. I did not re-read it for grammatical errors and readability!

God bless each and every one of you who've remembered the children and I in prayer.

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It is 11pm and I'm dreading hitting the sheets.

Another day crossed off, and Tuesday growing closer.

The social worker met with me, yesterday morning. It was actually a very revealing, encouraging visit.

So much that the little ones and olders, alike, shared were pivotal as "proof". The CPS worker was very nice, very validating, and even promised to make some calls to aid me in locating a lawyer.

"If you go in on Tuesday," she informed me, "and still do not have counsel, tell them so. Tell them you're not comfortable at all with that and that you're in the process of trying to secure representation. Make sure the court commissioner is told that a child welfare investigation has been started and is underway. No judge in their right mind will make any type of ruling when there is an open case like this."

I am praying she is correct.

In the meantime, I had a surprise call from an aunt who wanted to help, and the woman in charge of the "Transitional Living" program, here at the shelter, is looking into helping me get some funding from a program for women who've experienced domestic violence.

Is there a miracle still to happen?

Oh, God knows I need a lawyer desperately.
 
There is an author - Lundy, a counselor who's actively worked with batterers for nearly twenty years - who has written some excellent books. One, "Why Does He Do That" was given me here at the shelter. I was amazed and my eyes were opened to all of the things that life meant for us at home.

I am presently reading two others, "When Dad Hurts Mom" (domestic violence through the eyes of a child) and "The Batterer as Parent"... that are awakening a deeper concern in me regarding the end of this custody battle.

It is a myth that women get custody more often then men... and it is also a myth that abusers have a fight to win. On the contrary, the batterer often sways the court in his direction.

It's nuts.

I definitely have a big battle on my hands. And I thank all of you who reminded me that this battle is the Lord's. It is a fact that I didn't forget, by any means... but it is soothing to be encouraged in the Lord nonetheless.

Early this evening, I "bit the bullet" and told the children to just get their socks and shoes on.  "We're going outside!"

"We are!? We are!?"

The excitement was high. It's been a long time since they were even allowed to look out the window. I was tired of it. I didn't care about "risks" any more! We wanted the sun on our skins and the outside air in our lungs!

The children - even the baby - squealed as we exited the shelter. They were so thrilled! The four year old, like the others, ran at top speed. There was a skinned knee before any play had even been enjoyed!

As we went back inside, my aunt pulled in with some things they'd picked up for me while shopping. I bandaged my daughter's knee after putting a little peroxide on the minor scrape and attempted to settle my now-wild-and-crazy youngsters who were getting every toy instrument possible to make a "band". It was time to make supper.

Two of the other residents here, exited the shelter at just this time. They sat out front for a bit and when they came back inside, I was told my husband had been parked, watching them the entire time they were out there. As they went back in, he drove away.

My aunt had my oldest daughter's cat dropped off in her driveway.

He's back.

I cannot help but wonder how long he was there watching the shelter. Did he follow my aunt in? That doesn't make sense. He already knew we were here.

Then... was he watching the children and I outside in the play area? If so, for how long?

It's creepy.

And what's happened to my grandmother's two cats that we adopted following her death in March? Are they still alive? Why did he drop only the one cat off? What has he done with the dog? Anything?

Needless to say, the shelter is under stricter precautions again, tonight.

Before I close, I did want to take a moment to respond to some of the postings urging me to get RID of anger.

I want to say that, since coming here to the shelter, I've had time to breathe. I'm able to think now, and hold an opinion without fear. My mind is clearer than its been in many, many years.

Anger can be righteous. What was done to my children is detestable. I cannot even begin to tell  you how my heart broke to hear some of the things that my husband did to them as the social worker read me her notes. Some of it I knew already and could never have forgotten, some of it was fuzzy and had long since left my memory until the reminder... and some I knew nothing about.

"That's because he said he didn't want to make things harder on you. He knew the atmosphere at home was tense and didn't want it to worsen."

Gut wrenching. NO nine year old should have to shoulder such things!

My anger is righteous.

And, yes, it is that which keeps me strong and fighting for the good of my children. I should have taken a stand a long, long while ago. But, now I can.

Now I am.

Have I forgiven my husband? Yes, I have. I say this with all honesty.

As new things crop up, I must first work through the shock... then I move through depression and hopelessness, and anger... and finally, I can release it. Sometimes this process moves quickly - within minutes of an incident -- other times days. Sometimes it takes more strength and grace from God than at other times...

But I do forgive. And I have forgiven.

It helps when you are not WITH the abuser to do this.

But anger.

I am angry. And, I am not sinning.

Anger is a God-given emotion and it is what you choose to DO with that anger that counts.

I love the Lord. I know He is in control. But what my husband has done to the children (and myself) is atrocious and I would be very wrong to smile at it or feel sweet and breezy.

What my husband has done is an injustice toward GOD.

You may choose to agree, you may choose to disagree. That is up to you. But unless your husband has caused you to endure situations you should NEVER have had to endure... and unless you've had your children touched by domestic violence and pain and agony that should never have touched them... You could never possibly understand.

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It is late and time to turn in for the night.

Another day is about to dawn.

Bravo.

Each of the children were interviewed by Child Protective Services, this afternoon. The social worker came out to the shelter to talk to each one, but the one year old.

My husband had reported me as being dangerous and psychotic. He was going into police stations and saying I was a threat to the children and was planning to murder them.

The district attorney back home got involved.

This, then,  became an issue for this county to become involved in.

Now I am just praying that something that the children shared will move things at least somewhat in our favor.

While the social worker was talking with one of the children, I finally received that call from Legal Action that I was waiting for.

I'd been promised an attorney referral for legal representation.

Unfortunately, I've been flat-out denied.

I have NO legal representation.

None.

The weekend is upon us, already. Court is set for Tuesday morning.

I cried at first.

Then I felt pure anger.

Finally... I have had to put all trust and faith in God. I must believe He will work this situation out, somehow.

But how!?

Oh God, hear my cry!

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I do not have much time at all to type. The little children are with me in this tiny room and finding mischief absolutely everywhere.

A few days ago, the woman in charge of the "Transitional Living Program" told me there was a home available if we wanted it.

It's a duplex in a very nice area. It's a small town about an hour from relatives.

I told her, today, that I'd spoken with the children and have thought about it. We're going to move forward in this direction.

Still no headway in the attorney department.

No one to represent me.

I tried to contact the Legal program ... but they refuse to return my calls.

I just wish I had taken the money when I left! I would have had someone to help me, now!

What good is a house to move into... without children to accompany me!?

To all of you who suggested I flee with the children to another state... or move further "underground"... I am already facing court charges of felony - having fled with the children to a shelter. I am now trying to figure how I'm supposed to prove "just cause" to the courts ... without legal aid or "proof".

God bless all of you who remember the children and I in your prayers. I cannot tell you how very much that means to me.

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Every turn I make brings me to yet another wall.

Each time I attempt to put one foot in front of the other, something blocks my way.

The custody hearing my husband brought before the courts is in less than one week, and I still do not have representation.

I was able to get a card with Judicare.

However, because my husband ended up filing something legal first, Judicare now cannnot help me. We're talking two different jurisdictions, and they do not pay for an attorney's travel costs.

So... they referred me to Legal Aid. There, I was painted an extremely grim picture, yesterday afternoon..

Because I have no "paper trail" (no police reports, etc...), I am told it will be very difficult to prove to the courts that my husband is unfit to take all five smaller children, much less trying to show that I had JUST CAUSE to leave in the first place.

(Try telling them you didn't report things out of fear of what would happen if you had! They don't care!)

They told me it was a felony for having "taken the children from their father" without "proven just cause" and that I had better have a pretty persuasive statement written up to present to the judge.

The woman at Legal Aid told me that we were looking at a very grim situation. One that is extremely bleak. She told me I might even be looking at a jail sentence.

FOR LEAVING A MAN WHO WAS EXTREMELY ABUSIVE!

Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the night in tears, feeling as though I should never have left to begin with. In fact, I was considering going back. Giving up.

My husband will always have all the power. I will never get out from under it.

My sister suggested I phone one of the attorneys I have spoken with in the past months to find out what their retainer fee was. The Legal Aid help did not look as though it was going to be any sort of help at all.

Unfortunately, I have no one in my family who can afford it. No one willing to help. To put a share into a "pot" toward it...

I still have no lawyer to represent me, and must go to court in five days.

To make matters even worse, I attempted to contact the three police stations that have had contact/calls regarding my husband. He has escalated since I left him and has spent much time stalking family members as well as staff members here at the shelter.

However, the number one stunning show of "out of control" behavior by by husband was not documented in a police report!

I spoke to the policemen that were on call that particular night. So far, no one is able to help me to create a report to "fill in the gap".

Meaning?

Meaning it is apparent that a person can mistreat and abuse his family, as well as stalk relatives, wives and others without a care or concern. It's easy to get away with it. In fact, you might even get rewarded.

How?

Well, by being physically, sexually and mentally abusive and by having a show of urinary incontinence and childish tantrum on your belly in the grass... by chasing innocent pizza delivery men and posting up flyers all over town defaming your spouse... by lying and deceiving and attempting to tell the police to arrest your wife who is "crazy" and about to murder your five children... you can gain custody of them.

She's helpless and you know it.

She can't prove a thing.

Good thing your mother pays your way out of everything, isn't it?! She's bought you the best attorney around! You're all set!

And ...  the best part of all is how you can succeed at showing your wife that no matter where she flees... you still are the one in control of everything.

She'll never be free.

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It’s another Sunday. Another Sunday without church. Without formal worship. Without fellowship with like-minded believers.

I am feeling very melancholy today. Very sad.

I thought I’d go through the photos on my laptop that my oldest downloaded from her camera this past year. I found myself crying.

The kitchen filled with a baby jumping in her Jumparoo.

The dining room covered in birthday mess.

My grandmother’s cats… who knows what’s happened to them. She trusted me to take care of them… and now I do not even know if they’re there at the house. Or alive.

Pictures of my oldest daughter’s cat. She loved that animal.

Photographs of the fifteen-year-old’s dog… sized puppy to huge! His first bath, him eating, playing with the children…

I miss home. I miss the familiarity. I miss the security of my surroundings.

I’m hating where I’m at. I’m despising not being allowed to go outdoors or even peer out a window freely.

I’m hating it all.

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My days at the shelter follow a similar routine of sorts.

            Most mornings I wake up to either my one-year-old’s fussing or the other little three-year-old that stays here. He’s a cheery little fellow with a booming voice.

This morning, too, he was the one to open our door and holler, “Good morning!” waking all seven of us!

            Regardless, mornings here begin a little after 7am.

            After combing my hair and getting dressed, I proceed to the kitchen where the children’s excited jabber assaults my ears. They’re waiting at the table and pushing about me with anxious demands.

 Talk about a final wake up alarm!

            “I want oatmeal!”

            “I want bananas!”

            “I want cheerios!”

            Everyone seems to have a different menu request.

            Once everyone has finished eating, I wipe faces and hands. Then the children all help me to clear table and sweep the floor. I wipe the counters, change garbage as needed, find someone who is willing to take it outside for me (for safety reasons), and chase after a very active baby and three-year-old!

            I’m already out of breath by the time I gather up all of the used towels and washrags and hand them to a child to take to the laundry room. I pick up stray toys that have been dragged out and put them back where they go.

            Hoisting the baby onto my hip and grabbing a few other toys that belong at the other end of the hall in the playroom, I make my way to the bedrooms. The baby gets put down and the toys are run to the toy area.

            Now it is time to begin the task of dressing children for the day. Diapers are changed and bodies dressed. Hair is brushed and combed and dirty clothing gathered and put into our laundry basket.

            Alright, time to clean the bedrooms!

            We were blessed with three rooms here. That’s six beds and one Pack-N-Play. I change sheets once a week and make beds daily. Children’s books are picked up off the floor and so are toys.

            The entire time I’m tidying, little (and bigger!) ones are being instructed on how to help. I’m aiding them with putting bed covers on neatly and straightening sheets and blankets underneath. I’m fetching the baby who has wanderlust and seeking out mysteriously disappearing children protesting “child labor”!

            Now that the bedrooms look nice and neat, it’s time to take my basket of laundry to the laundry room. The little ones like to help put the dirty items into the front-loading wash machine and add the soap. They like to pull the dial after I adjust settings and make the water swish-swish.  

            Often, it’s time to change diapers again.

            I spend some time in the playroom with the children and relax for a few minutes. Then, I work on paperwork and make necessary phone calls. Sometimes there are appointments to be had.

            Then, I check the laundry, switch loads (sometimes there are diapers to throw in… I have my cloth ones with me), and fold. Again the children like to help. They put dryer sheets in the machine and push the “start” button. They even help me to clean the lint filter.

            Believe it or not, it’s now about time for lunch. Many days I work with the mother of four who is staying here. We feed our families and the other ladies if they’re here.

            Other days, like today, I’m the only resident here. I choose something to make from the cabinets and begin cooking and fixing plates.

            The children gather about the table and we pray before eating.

            Then, it is time to clean up our mess as we did at breakfast, with everyone working together.

            Diapers are changed, and naps are begun. I tuck the baby first because she’s the easiest. She goes down quickly. Then, I lie down with the other little ones. While they relax, I read a book or work on more paperwork.

            After naptime, I get everyone a small snack.

            We relax together in the playroom and play a game. I make sure everyone is safe and behaving.

            Then, diapers are changed and we move back to the kitchen where supper is begun and then served.

            After clean-up, I give baths three times per week. A couple of the children take showers, instead. Bedclothes are put on and a little more play is had. We do preschool learning, and the older littles practice reading.

We pick up the playroom for the day and then begin tucking procedures.

            Again, I begin with the baby. Then, it is time to wrangle the other four small children into the bedrooms so I can get them down.

            By this time, I’m probably more exhausted than they are. It takes a little time to get them to calm down and lie still. There have been times I’ve accidentally fallen asleep on a book, before they’ve closed their eyes! Being here is more emotionally exhausting than physically exhausting in some ways.

            While I’m waiting for the children to fall asleep (if I leave the room before they are asleep, they’ve proven likely to get up and run around halls, switch lights on and off and other naughty things), I type on the computer, read a book or do paperwork.

            Once the littles are asleep, I sneak out to have some one-on-one time with the oldest child I have with me. The three oldest children “rotate” and I get a “new” helper/visitor every few days.

            Every other day I get online and post any “blogs” I’ve saved on the computer. I check email, and we have a snack.

            Before I go to bed, I shower as needed, and brush my teeth. I have my personal devotion time, and read in bed for a while before dropping off to sleep. And, of course, the whole thing gets repeated again a few hours later.

As you can see, a day here at the shelter is not abnormal or strange. Only the surroundings are. The fact there is an office on either end of the building is.

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Yesterday was a very emotional day.

I think that the entire situation, sometimes, hits me more fiercely than at other times. It knocked me down with a vengeance, yesterday.

In addition, my husband “jumped into the skin” of another woman that is staying here right away that morning.

“I wish I could just sit at home like you and do nothing.” She said unexpectedly.

My fur ruffled, but I said nothing.

“Instead this new job has taken over my entire life.” She shook her head, annoyed.  “I wish I didn’t have to work and could just sit at home like you and take it easy all the time.”

Ohhhhhh really?

I take it easy?

That is news to me.

Also news is how a job at a fast food joint that could get you OUT of this place and into something you can call your own… could be grumbled about.

I wanted to tell her, “At least you can go outside without fear.” And “At least you can gain compensation for what you do all day, and can socialize with the public.” Or how about, “Well, let’s see you try raising eight children in a place like this!”

Instead, I quietly wiped my children’s “breakfast faces” and left the kitchen area.

But those simple statements delivered to me so casually and pointedly sat and brewed in my mind all day long, and they ate at me and wore me thin.

How dare she? How dare she? How dare she?

All day, as I moved through a myriad of training, cleaning, redirecting, diaper-changing, washing, scrubbing, teaching, playing, discipline, cooking and paperwork endeavors … those angry feelings festered.

Then, evening arrived.

Quiet and peace rolled in.

The children began settling in for the night and dropping off to sleep. I had room to think… and I suddenly realized why I was so mad.

It was as though my husband were sitting across from me, that morning. I heard his words… it was just another voice and body delivering them.

I was angry with him.

That one set of statements delivered to me by a woman who’s only had one child and has never had custody or responsibility for her… was given me because she didn’t know any better.

She has nothing invested in my children. Why would she understand or care about how much work I do every day!?  

My husband, however, was supposed to have been a partner. He was supposed to have treated us so much differently than he did. He was supposed to have loved us, nurtured us and put our needs ahead of his own in a sacrificial manner as the Word of God instructs.

That woman, yesterday, was a vehicle that brought me face to face with just a surface-brushing of all the pain and agony contained within my marriage. That’s all.

In another vein…

More fear was incited, today.

Two women, who also live here at the shelter, were on their way out to run some errands when they passed by my mother-in-law.

Apparently my “vultures” are still angrily circling.

A message was left for me, bright and early this morning, from the Child Protective Services in this area, too.

I tried to return the call, but only got the answering machine. Despite trying three more times, I still have not spoken with this man, and am very nervous.

Now what is my husband up to?

He’s already contacted the district attorney’s office back home. He’s contacted the police department in three counties, and now is working on CPS.

I told my oldest daughter and another one of the residents that I believe my husband and in-laws will not quit until I am in jail.

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I found the following entry on my computer journal from a week ago, and wished to share it. Some of the feelings are still similar to what I am experiencing, today:

Everything is gone.

He’s taken everything from me.

My freedom, my sense of identity, my church, my pets, the last of what I had of my grandmothers, my self respect, everything.

I feel as though I am questioning everything, lately.

I am beginning to think it was wrong to be as submissive and subservient as I was to my husband. Why wear a head covering?

Why should I bother dressing like I do if my church has cut us out and will not help us despite our beseeching? Why look like them if we’ve been rejected by them?

There are lots of other dresses I would like to wear.

Why should I hold to any of the past values that I once felt so strongly about?

I desire the closeness I once felt with the Lord. He feels so very, very far away from me right now and I wish I had more time to spend drinking in the Word.

I think part of the reason I am having such a difficult time, spiritually, is due to the frustrations that I am experiencing with the little ones.

Four of them are so stubborn and difficult!

Night times are the absolute worst.

If only they would stay in bed! I could have some time to think!

I should not have to sit, babysitting, for all these hours, making sure they don’t get up and run up and down halls!

There must be something very wrong with my parenting if that is the case. What am I doing wrong?

I have found that these questioning times are very frequent and varied.

Some days I feel like ditching the cape dress and covering all together. Other times, I am sure it is right to continue on with my outside appearance as always.

Regarding my parenting… I am learning to parent in a very different way, and it is both gratifying and challenging.

I used to follow after my husband in an attempt to keep him happy. It was considered very, very wrong to have any different views, opinions or thoughts from those he held.

He would “punish” me if I spoke my mind or disagreed, ever.

Now, I have freedom to think. To hold my own values and beliefs.

I no longer feel spanking is right in most cases. I have stopped using this method of discipline since coming here. And the children are behaving better.

In addition, because the stress I used to experience when the little ones would misbehave or grow too noisy is gone… I do not grow as angry or frustrated with them. Where, before, I used to DEMAND that they stop NOW out of fear of my husband’s reaction… now a tantrum doesn’t do anything to me!

If the three-year-old wishes to toss himself on the floor in a heap of screams, for example, who cares!? He wants attention. He wants a riled response. Believe me, he used to get one.

Now?

He’s ignored. He hates it.

And the tantrums are much fewer.

I’m learning all kinds of fun ways to respond to the children.

Bedtimes are still the worst battle. Night used to be the ONE time I had to relax and think. To take a bath, go for a walk, or write a letter.

We’re still working on it, but tuck-in time is also improving. I think the children are doing very well.

And so am I.

It is interesting to see how, as the days pass, some questions and difficulties stay the same… and some improve dramatically.

It is also interesting to me to reflect on then and now.

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I feel as though I am going under.

Drowning.

I wish, wish, wish I could just evaporate and go away quietly.

I am feeling swallowed up by depression, today, and do not know what to do. This is the first time, since I've arrived here at the shelter, that I've felt this bad, this long...

I wish I could just give up.

Go home.

All this would go away.

I could have my own surroundings again. My pillows. Our pets. My garden and flowers.

There would be no shelter, no strangers, no courts, no meetings with housing authorities, no forms to fill out, no questions about the future.

Just the familiarity of home.

I am locked, locked, locked in this place, and it feels like a prison. I have no credit, no home, nothing.

I just wish I didn't have to go on.

I wish I could bury myself in my bed, here, and sleep. When I am sleeping, I do not have to think. I do not have to expend energy...

I have no energy.

All I have is weakness.

Where are you Lord? Why do You feel so far away?

Please, God. Help!

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I am living in a shell of self-pity.

Terrible but true.

Crack me out!

My husband has continued to find new ways to torture me, and to make life extremely difficult for everyone around me… particularly those helping me…

The shelter has closed its doors to all others needing a safe place to stay on the chance he would “stage” an abused woman within the doors. He’s shown himself sneaky and conniving in a myriad of ways.

They've even posted "Missing Children" flyers, urging people to contact them if they should see "these missing children", as they are with an "unstable mother".

When our support meeting rolled around, the shelter had to admit women and children in a different manner to protect them… and me. I had to wait within the confines of the main shelter area until someone came to get me and travel with me through locked doors.

My husband and inlaws continue to track us, circle the shelter and my relatives' home and have even begun chasing staff workers at the shelter.

The surveillance cameras are on more, now. The windows have been given new coverings, and the alarms are turned on earlier.

It seems he’s transferred to a new hotel… to be nearer our location.

Today was the day I met with the attorney I secured a consultation with through Judicare. It was not a productive meeting. It seems he cannot help me because I have not been in this county long enough, do not have a “residence” other than the women’s abuse shelter, and wasn’t the one to first file.

Because Judicare will not pay for the attorney to travel to the county my husband filed for custody in, I still have no representation.

He did, however, make photocopies of the legal documents that I received, took a written statement from me and will be forwarding his own notes from our meeting to Judicare. I am told within two to three days I should hear back from them regarding someone in that jurisdiction that will be able to assist me. Probably by phone.

Very disheartening.

I am not sure how I will get all of the information that is so important to our case to someone I cannot go see in person… but must rest in the fact that God will work even this out for our good.

The lawyer that I saw today told me he’s never seen a case quite this messy in all his twenty-eight years working in this field.

I received a phone call from the district attorney’s office in the county I resided in before coming to this shelter. Apparently, my husband has been attempting to “light fires” under those in legal authority to get me arrested for a felony – keeping children from their father.

Ironically, my husband would be unhappy to learn that it back-fired.

I am being offered aid from them. On the day of the custody hearing, I am to go to their office, first, to talk to the victim witness protection program. Someone will come with me into the courtroom.

It is late. Almost midnight. Time to close the computer down, and go to bed.

Rest is so brief between the little ones going down for the night… and morning light.

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Apparently, my husband has filed for custody.

Whereas I was provoked to anger through the bitterness that has been pent up for ages, in hearing this news, a worker here told me she was not surprised.

“This is to be expected. It happens all the time. That’s the move most abusers make at this point.”

I vented a bit, wondering aloud why my husband would desire any form of custody when he was anything but an “active participant” in their lives.

It is very interesting how everything that is occurring is positively “textbook”.

But beyond that, all this is nerve-racking.

I lean on my Lord God, as always. It is He that provides strength, resilience, and grace to move forward without saying upsetting or nasty things about my husband to the workers, the children or others.

Especially the children.

But I do find it very odd that not once have they mentioned their daddy.

Not once have any of them asked where he is or when they could again see him. Not once have they wanted to speak with him on the phone.

Apparently, this morning, my mother-in-law phoned, lying. She said she saw me the day before and could she please talk with me on the phone?

“I do not know anyone by that name,” the worker insisted, realizing this was not someone I wished to talk to. She hadn’t known or provided my password.

She knew that what my husband’s mother was saying were lies.

My mother-in-law quickly became irate, and hung up on the shelter counselor.

Each time we are “hit” with another “surprise bomb” from my husband’s side, I am shocked and sent momentarily down the path of self-pity and bitterness.

But being that such emotions are a dangerous route, I try very hard to gear myself back onto the godly walkway.

Lord, please help me to see You, always.

Even when You feel further away than I'd like. 

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