<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626</id><updated>2011-12-19T05:59:17.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daughters of An Addict</title><subtitle type='html'>This a blog about our mom, an addict, and how her addiction affects our lives.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5626759186048109606</id><published>2010-10-01T10:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T11:00:05.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always how she wants to see it.......</title><content type='html'>I called G today to see what was up.  I hadn't heard from her since I dropped off the letter at the treatment facility.  G says she came home Wednesday and is now in outpatient again.  She refuses to call me.  Apparently, she thinks my letter was saying that I don't want her in my life and she has been crying about it for a week.  He said that the therapist is trying to use it in sessions and show her that it reads the exact opposite.  G read it and is trying to tell her the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that sucks!  What that means to me is that she doesn't plan to get sober.  I clearly stated that we want her back, but not if she isn't sober.  Once again, she reads things the way she wants to.  Not sure why I keep trying.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5626759186048109606?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5626759186048109606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5626759186048109606' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5626759186048109606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5626759186048109606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2010/10/always-how-she-wants-to-see-it.html' title='Always how she wants to see it.......'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-8401728338326158972</id><published>2010-09-22T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T13:56:16.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a tough day for me!  I have really worked hard to keep Mom from always being the focus.  I have worked hard to keep the walls up so she doesn't continuously hurt me.  For some reason, the past week or so - it has all been getting to me.  Nothing has changed with her.  She is still using and lying.  Though I don't think the Barber has been around for months - that is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did have a sober period for about a month this summer right before A left to go back to school.  It was very nice.  I brought the boys over a few times to swim with her and she even hosted a family birthday dinner.  It was short-lived.  According to G, once her check came - she was off to the city again....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family went out to eat for my cousin's birthday a few weeks ago.  Mom and G actually showed up.  She wasn't sober.  It was obvious.  (And in just a week or so, she had swelled up again)  She choked on her steak in the restaurant.  There just happened to be paramedics there eating.  They came over to help.  The restaurant employees were all so worried and concerned for her.  I felt nothing.  All I could think was "Maybe if you weren't drunk, you could chew your food."  She ended up in the hospital the next day with the pancreatitis again.  She now has developed cysts on her pancreas and they were so large, they almost had to go in to drain them.  She tries to claim it isn't from drinking.  Seriously Mom????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think yesterday I let G get to me.  Mom went to yet another rehab last week, stayed 2 days, went to the hospital and then went to a different treatment center this week.  Then called G and asked him to pick her up - she would do outpatient.  He was blowing her off and wanted my opinion if she should do IP.  I tried to tell him we can't control her, but he still doesn't get that....  I ended up writing her a letter and didn't hold back.  I dropped it off at the trmt center and she called G later and said she would stay at treatment.  I told her that we love her and want her better, but we refuse to have anything to do with her not sober.  I also told her that her love of drugs and alcohol is greater than her love for us - I know she doesn't really think that - but it is how it makes us feel.  I don't have high hopes for this round of treatment.  G thinks she has been in treatment 15 times.  I think he may have missed a few.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I must focus on myself and my family.  I have to find the strength to tell G he has just as much of a problem as Mom and he is bringing me down....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for the wonderful support I have found from a few special ladies at my Church!!  They help me realize that as tough as it is, I am doing the right thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-8401728338326158972?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8401728338326158972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=8401728338326158972' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8401728338326158972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8401728338326158972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2010/09/tough-day.html' title='Tough Day'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2787348741686724427</id><published>2010-06-01T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T14:03:52.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update from Sunday's Post</title><content type='html'>I sort of ran off and didn't completely finish my last post (gets crazy in the house when the kids get home with Dad....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When G called and we figured out Mom had taken off, A burst into tears.  I felt so bad for her.  After she had such a great heart-to-heart with Mom a few days before, I know she felt completely &lt;strong&gt;abandoned and betrayed again&lt;/strong&gt; at that moment.  I just can't help her either.  At least we have each other to work it out together.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A had actually told Mom how she felt abandoned by her.  How could Mom choose drugs/alcohol over her.  She was only in High School and still needed her.  Mom told her "I felt it was better for you to go live with your sister.  I figured my girls were grown and I could go out and live the wild life again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grown???  She was in High school for pete's sake.  And I don't care how old you are, you always need your Mom.  So, then Sunday she disappears and took A's heart again.  I don't know how to keep her from getting her hopes up - it is difficult for me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, Mom was in OP rehab.  Though Friday we are quite sure she didn't go - she would not have been at my house planting flowers.....  I actually had a Freak-Out moment.  A was rubbing off on me and I guess I got a little scared she was actually going to rehab.  I have to admit I was TERRIFIED!  I have worked so hard to create the healthy distance - I am not quite sure I am ready for her to get help.  I don't even know how to re-establish a good relationship if that time were to come.  I hate to admit this, but it is almost easier now if she doesn't get well......  I pray every night for her to find her strength to get better.  I really do want that for her, but I would be lying if I said it didn't scare me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday evening my DH went with G to the City.  G had went down there earlier to try and find her.  He found the car.  He took his spare key and they brought the car back home (to hopefully prevent it from being crack-leased or anything else).  I am struggling with this still.  I wasn't sure it was the right thing to get involved in - I am afraid G's real motive was not to save $, but to still have control over Mom.  But, it is done and G called yesterday.  She came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I have a voicemail from her "Hi hon.  It's Mom.  I am calling to apologize again for my behavior and making everyone worry about me.  I still love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what make it so difficult is that some days, she really means it.  She really does put us first, she really wants to get better, she really does care about us, etc.  Then one bad day - and we are back to square one.  Oh, I just pray for her strength on the bad days!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2787348741686724427?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2787348741686724427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2787348741686724427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2787348741686724427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2787348741686724427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2010/06/update-from-sundays-post.html' title='Update from Sunday&apos;s Post'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-4522214770010781982</id><published>2010-05-30T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T19:06:45.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just more lies, as usual......</title><content type='html'>Since I last posted, not much has changed with my Mom.  I have been working hard on changing my reactions to her.  It still sucks.  She continues to lie/steal/cheat/use...  She still lives in her own world and thinks no one is the wiser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called me the Friday before Mother's day to say "Just in case I forget, i want to tell you now, Happy Mother's Day."  and told me she was taking Grandma out Sunday, if we wanted to meet them - she would love to see us.  &lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, G called to say "Sorry, your Mom took off Friday afternoon and I haven't seen her since.  We won't be there for dinner."  Apparently, some backpay arrived in the mail Friday and she was off - Completely disregarding the plans she had made a few hours before.  My grandma was disappointed.  So was I....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday she called and left a VM.  "Sorry to disappoint you all again.  I am going to treatment tomorrow and would like to hear from you."  She was admitted to outpatient (What are they thinking???? - probably don't want to waste their time...).  On Thursday, my sister went to watch a movie with her.  She had a heart-to-heart talk with her.  Let her know we were not oblivious to what she was up to.  On Friday, she put flowers in my yard and a few garden ornaments.  I called her about it.  She said, "Since you are going to be selling your house, I thought I would help spruce up the yard for you."  We didn't really talk much more, someone came over to the house and she was distracted.  She said, "I will see you at Church."&lt;br /&gt;So this morning - no show at church.  About 1pm, G calls A and says "Is your Mom still with you guys."  Apparently she talked him into driving herself this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I logged in to update the blog and vent.....  I caught up with another blogger and liked what she had to say, so I am copying it.  &lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;NOT ONE FUCKING THING YOU DO IS GOING TO CHANGE YOUR ADDICT. &lt;br /&gt;Sorry guys, but that is the bitter, honest, complete and total truth. &lt;br /&gt;Force them into all the rehabs you can pay for. You are wasting your money. &lt;br /&gt;Give them all the rules you want. They will ignore them. &lt;br /&gt;Give them all the support they can use. It will make no difference. &lt;br /&gt;Trust them all you want, they will rip you off over and over. &lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;All these programs out there for addicts...and they don't bother. Wonder why I don't care whether or not an addict gets treatment? Because they don't WANT treatment. And when they DO want treatment, THEY find it for themselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-4522214770010781982?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/4522214770010781982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=4522214770010781982' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/4522214770010781982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/4522214770010781982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2010/05/just-more-lies-as-usual.html' title='Just more lies, as usual......'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5400391886178367951</id><published>2009-10-20T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T13:01:57.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God is speaking to us!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/St4EqVk4hqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/hizF8QOiXXY/s1600-h/Forgiveness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 136px; height: 109px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/St4EqVk4hqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/hizF8QOiXXY/s320/Forgiveness.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394754529029293730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Colossians 3:13&lt;br /&gt;Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 18:21-22 &lt;br /&gt;Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend, I attended a Women's Retreat with our Church.  This was the first time I had been to something like this.  I am quite sure it was meant for me to be there.  When it was first announced there would be a Women's retreat, I smiled at my DH and said "Don't think I will go to that."  A few weeks later, one of the ladies asked if I could assist with the budget portion of the event, she needed help in that area and knew that was a strong point of mine.  Long story short, I ended up on the planning committee - how could I not go?  Thank God I did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The theme for the weekend was "Reconnect, Revive, and Rejoice".  Little did I know it would have such an impact on me.  The just of the story - if you hold resentment/anger/grudges against just one person, you are actually shutting out everyone.  It isn't really possible to love "everyone but that one person".  I was starting to come to this conclusion on my own (or God was helping me along), but the speaker this weekend clinched it for me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my attempt to guard myself from the hurt of my Mom's actions, I was shutting her out.  I felt like if she wasn't sober, I just wouldn't be around her.  But in my heart, I was aching - I felt horrible for "ignoring" her.  I knew that my avoiding her, wasn't really helping the situation.  I realize now that I must love her the way she is.  That does not mean I have to enable her.  That just means I cannot shut her out of my life - she is my Mom after all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was focusing on keeping the bad away, I unintentionally was shutting others out too.  I cannot tell you the last time I allowed emotions to take over when I thought about Mom.  It rubbed off onto my interactions with others around me, but sometimes being emotional can be a good thing.  It is not healthy to put up a wall and put on the appearance that all is well.  I haven't allowed myself to get close to anyone in a long time - why set yourself up to get hurt!  That is now changing - I have never felt more loved by these new women in my life - I even feel I can return those feelings.  We had quite a hugfest on Saturday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord spoke to me while I was away - I know he was telling me I cannot just ignore my Mom!  Funny thing - last week I just kept feeling this tug to call Mom for no reason other than to just say "Hi" and "I love you".  I did, only to find out she had been hospitalized yet again.  She didn't want to call us b/c it seems she only calls when she is in the hospital.  She was so happy to hear from me and it made me feel so much better.  Nothing was mentioned about her problems, we just said "Hi" and "I love you".  She said, "Nothing is new here."  I told her "That is okay, you don't have to call when something is up - you can just say Hi too."  Then after this weekend, I knew I had done the right thing.  I don't have to do things for her if she doesn't stay sober - but, I do love her no matter what and I do have to let her know that.  It is up to her what she does from there.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last post, she has been relatively quiet.  A few weeks ago she called me and said, "I am homeless, I need your help."  She had it all figured out - she wanted to put her $ in my name and have me cosign and pay for an apartment for her.  At first I thought, ok why not.  But, then the rational side kicked in and I kept pushing her off.  I didn't want to tell her no, she finally asked for help, but I knew it was not a practical option.  She would turn over her $ to me, only to be at my door constantly wanting it.  She wanted to pay almost $500 for an apartment and then live on about $300 a month - not possible w/o a serious plan.  Funny thing, she called me daily when she wanted something.  One night when she called, she was surely drunk and wanted me to tell G that I would pay him for the car when I got her $ if he would just let her have it now.  When he got on the phone, we talked very little - he didn't have to say anything - Mom's actions said it all.  She flipped out on him and said "I told you not to talk - A just need to say something to you."  She was paranoid he might tell me the truth.  I said "I know she won't listen now, but you don't have to tell me when she is drinking, its obvious."  She continued to rant and rave and I just felt so sorry for him at that moment.  That behavior confirmed my feelings on not helping her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed about it for 3 days and finally had to make the phone call to her.  I was shaking and crying, but I knew it wasn't the right thing for me to do.  When she heard my voice - she immediately turned back into the Mom I once knew.  It killed her that I was so upset over it.  She told me "That is okay honey.  I wouldn't do it either."  Then she quickly got off the phone.  The next day she called upset and wanted to know what changed my mind.  She thought it was G or my DH and I had to tell her - "No Mom, it was my decision.  I am sorry."  She hung up on me.  That was the last I had talked to her until last week.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were many prayers for her and myself this past weekend.  Today, she called me and my sister.  For no reason other than to say "Hi" and "I love you".  Maybe God is speaking to her too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said she was in the hospital again over the weekend.  She said both times were for dehydration.  I don't know about that.  I just have this feeling that she isn't going to make it much longer.  Her habits have really taken a toll on her health.  I have this feeling inside that God is getting my sister and I to a better point with her again - so that when she does go, we won't have horrible regrets to live with.  I really hope I am wrong, but we will be better either way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5400391886178367951?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5400391886178367951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5400391886178367951' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5400391886178367951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5400391886178367951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/10/god-is-speaking-to-us.html' title='God is speaking to us!'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/St4EqVk4hqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/hizF8QOiXXY/s72-c/Forgiveness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2253863756829549092</id><published>2009-09-01T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T13:19:05.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrested Again??</title><content type='html'>While Mom was at Grandma's last week - she left some papers on the dining room table.  Grandma asked me to take it - I glanced at it and said "Ooh, this looks like a report of her record - I am going to read it."  It turned out to be the reports from her last two probation meetings.  Apparently she was arrested and her probation officer wrote up the police report in her probation report.  It is ugly - sounds like an episode of COPS.  I really can't believe this is my Mom.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/Sp2BBI2XoOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/5NVZD_9OLbk/s1600-h/Page+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/Sp2BBI2XoOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/5NVZD_9OLbk/s320/Page+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376595386705617122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/Sp2A7Ts2NmI/AAAAAAAAAAk/P6a7PJRytIo/s1600-h/Page+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/Sp2A7Ts2NmI/AAAAAAAAAAk/P6a7PJRytIo/s400/Page+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376595286539253346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2253863756829549092?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2253863756829549092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2253863756829549092' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2253863756829549092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2253863756829549092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/09/arrested-again.html' title='Arrested Again??'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WBcwsgHMTZY/Sp2BBI2XoOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/5NVZD_9OLbk/s72-c/Page+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-280714665340323671</id><published>2009-09-01T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T13:14:33.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama and Lies as usual</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday, I dropped off &lt;a href="http://www.angelfoodministries.com/"target=new&gt;Angel Food&lt;/a&gt; to Grandma's house and she was waiting to talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said that Mom showed up Thursday am and wanted to spend the day with her.  She did and the Barber picked her up that evening.  Mom returned Friday morning to Grandma's.  Grandma said they talked about different stuff including marriage, then Mom got really quiet.  She stated that she had made a mistake an shouldn't have left G again.  About an hour later she told Grandma she wanted to take a walk and never returned.  She called Grandma that evening from G's.  She claims she walked to the gas station and called him to get her.  Grandma asked where the $ came from and she said she had a couple dollars in her pocket.  When the Barber showed up after work to get Mom, Grandma told him she had never returned from a walk.  The Barber said "Oh, I am sorry.  I thought she might be on a binge again, b/c I have $ missing from the shop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guess is that she did call G - but I don't think that is all she was up to.  Why wouldn't she just use Grandma's phone to call him??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I left Grandma's house, I had a message from Mom on my phone.  She wanted to come by my house and get her check and driver's license.  I returned her call and I was 99% sure she was not sober.  This was about 11:30am.  We were getting together that afternoon with the family to celebrate a few birthdays - I invited her (she didn't know about it b/c no one ever knows where she is to invite her) and she quickly made up several excuses about why she couldn't make it.  I didn't question her, I knew why she wasn't going.  That afternoon, my Aunt told me she had called Mom that morning and "I am sorry to tell you, she was high or drunk or something."  That confirmed my suspicions.  Grandma said "But she was sober Thurs and Fri - how could she get all messed up that quick?"  Doesn't take long Grandma, doesn't take long....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-280714665340323671?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/280714665340323671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=280714665340323671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/280714665340323671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/280714665340323671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/09/drama-and-lies-as-usual.html' title='Drama and Lies as usual'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5514109692836453683</id><published>2009-08-31T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T10:41:57.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's New</title><content type='html'>About a month ago, G called and had this "grand idea" to do an intervention for Mom.  He said he was really worried and thought if the whole family go together, it would work.  He had already called my Aunt and she wasn't available for about a month (if it doesn't work for her, it doesn't work....)  He wanted to get mine and my sister's opinions.  I told him I would see what I could do and hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so bad - he was actually reaching out for help (Mr. I Can Take Care Of Everything All By Myself), but I didn't want to help.  I thought - She already knows why we have a bad relationship, do I really have to tell her again?  Then I thought some more and realized that I probably have never actually "told" her - it just sort of happened and that was that.  I talked to A about it, she agreed then cried.  She felt horrible too.  She has never expressed to Mom why she stays away either.  We just figure Mom knows.  She does, but does that mean we shouldn't say it?  Just like Mom's Dad never said "I love you" - you were just supposed to know.  Is that the same thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed and prayed, and by the time I got the courage to call Mom - she blew me off as usual.  Came to the phone - put on her fake smile - and pretended everything was just fine.  She was working on herself and that was all she would really say.  I remembered once again, why I don't bother most of the time.  But, sometimes you just feel like "What if?" so you try again......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago, G called.  He told me that Mom was in the hospital again and not doing well.  He had just gotten back from visiting her.  She had already been there two days (well she started at a different hospital and was transferred) and they weren't sure what it was yet.  She was scheduled for a test Tues am.  He said she was all doped up on the pain meds and had no clue where she was or why or what was up.  She gave G a hard time for not meeting her, myself, and my sister down at the pool.  She was convinced we were on a family vacation and were at the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I received a call from the Barber (that I would have ignored, had I known who it was....) - he was worried about Mom, she had a Parole meeting the week before and he hadn't see her since.  He thought she had been arrested again.  I couldn't lie and told him she was in the hospital, not jail.  It didn't take long for him to find out which hospital....  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called me back to tell me her test had been moved to a later time.  I waited until the afternoon to call her.  She answered and was so happy to hear from me.  She said they took her for the test and she freaked out on them.  She told them she wasn't the patient.  She thought she was there with me and my younger DS for him to get tests.  They had to show her the wristband and postpone the procedure.  She told me they lightened the pain meds and she was coming around.  She was so embarrassed that happened.  That evening G called, he had been at the hospital, saw the Barber's phone # on the table and stormed out.  He wanted to know how he found her.  I said "I told him - I couldn't lie to him, just like I can't lie to you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the procedure was performed and they found &lt;a href="http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=8404"target=new&gt;sludge in her bile duct &lt;/a&gt;(gallbladder is already gone).  I went up to the hospital that evening to visit.  She looked really bad.  She was so puffy I don't think she could bend her fingers.  The Barber was there when I walked in.  I asked about her being puffy and she said something about all the fluids they were pumping her with.  The Barber said "Oh no, that's from the Boozin'  Don't let her fool you, she was puffy before coming to the hospital."  He left shortly after I showed up.  When the night nurse came in, she looked at Mom's chart and said "Oh they changed your last name today."  Mom laughed and just said "Yes, they did."  I know that means G threw a fit and told those nurses to take his name off the records.  I kept quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke with her Thursday and she was feeling better and wanted to go home.  On Friday, my phone died so I couldn't call her until the evening.  The hospital phone rang and rang - she was released and I didn't know who she went with - G or the Barber.  I didn't call either one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, when we got home from church, there was a box of Mom's stuff on my porch with a message on my machine from G telling me he left it.  I now knew where she was this time.  She left me a message that evening telling me the Barber had her in the Country so she couldn't get into trouble.  Wanted to know if I would take her license and check from G over to the Barber shop.  I didn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5514109692836453683?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5514109692836453683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5514109692836453683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5514109692836453683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5514109692836453683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/08/whats-new.html' title='What&apos;s New'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2917143757798141914</id><published>2009-07-10T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T13:50:51.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Escaped Jail this time</title><content type='html'>G just called.  Let me know that Mom called him this morning to come pick her up from the City.  She crack-leased the Barber's truck and they wrecked it.  Took out two innocent cars in the process.  She actually had G drop her off at the Barber's camper.  G said he told her we were worried and she should call, but I haven't heard from her today.  G acted surprised - I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until about a year ago, I didn't even know you could "crack-lease" your car - Now I know you don't get them back.  Mom has gone through 4 of her own vehicles that I know about and now the Barber's too.  What a shame!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure this has been said many times, but if only these addicts could use their smart/manipulative maneuvers in a positive way - I bet they would be very successful!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2917143757798141914?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2917143757798141914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2917143757798141914' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2917143757798141914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2917143757798141914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/07/escaped-jail-this-time.html' title='Escaped Jail this time'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2332168460189516292</id><published>2009-07-09T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T19:26:00.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Will it be jail again?</title><content type='html'>G called me this afternoon.  "It is imperative that you call me.  Your mom is okay, as far as I know, but we have to help find her tonight.  Call me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugghhh....So, I prepare myself and call him back.  He says the Barber called him to see if Mom was there.  He told G that if she wasn't back tonight w/ his truck, he is calling to report it stolen in the morning and will follow through with pressing charges.  G says that will violate her probation and add charges for grand larceny.  He doesn't want her to go to prison.  I said "I hope the Barber does press charges.  What the fuck is she thinking?  Normal people don't steal cars, especially from their so called boyfriends."  That phone call sucked - my boys were in the backseat of the car waiting to go in Kmart for Super Doubles (okay so I was waiting for the Super Doubles, my boys just wanted out of the car) and I was egging Z on to cry in the background so I could get off the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....  I am 99% sure G is now driving around the city looking for Mom so she doesn't get in trouble.  I told him he shouldn't do that and he didn't respond to that.  Poor guy - she will just use him again and again until he finally calls it quits.  He knows that, but still continues to "help" her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister and I were talking earlier.  It just doesn't make sense that we are who we are today.  My sister thinks she should be pregnant and barefoot in a trailer park with 4 kids yelling at the neighbors with a cigarrette in her mouth.  But she isn't.  She is getting ready for her Senior year of college earning her degree in teaching and doing well.  I shouldn't be where I am either, according to statistics -I have a Masters degree in accounting, the World's Best Husband, two beautiful boys, and a great job.  If you met our mother today, you wouldn't know we belonged to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must have to do with the timing of her episodes.  I remember turmoil in my life until about 1st or 2nd grade.  I lived with my grandparents for awhile and I remember fighting.  The thing is, I was young enough to not really remember what my life was "actually" like.  I only hear about it from my grandmas.  Mom was in a sober period of her life after that.  Or at least to my knowlege, she was sober.  If she wasn't, she was functioning.  She had to - a single mom supporting me.  Then she married my sister's dad.  He was an alcoholic and Mom maintained the home.  When A was about 2, he sobered up, but they still divorced.  Mom went to nursing school and raised A and I on her own.  She bought a house and we moved.  When I was in high school, she started her own business.  We took a few elderly people into our home and she cared for them 24/7.  She became rather well-known for Diabetes care among the social workers and even had a waiting list.  This is when G came into the picture.  Right after I left for college, they purchased a residential care facility that had capacity for 20 residents.  I think this was a huge factor in her downfall.  She ended up with several mental health patients and began stealing their medications.  I don't know if the state ever officially caught her, but they were on to her.  She sold the place and it has been downhill ever since.  A calls it "When Mom started sleeping on the couch ALL the time"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I think I was just too young and by the time I was more aware of my surroundings, Mom was great.  And A had a great Mom until she was in Jr. High.  At that point, A was old enough to know that wasn't "just how life is".  No matter, the reason, we are thankful to God we are okay so far!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2332168460189516292?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2332168460189516292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2332168460189516292' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2332168460189516292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2332168460189516292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/07/will-it-be-jail-again.html' title='Will it be jail again?'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-8597874636750754278</id><published>2009-07-09T08:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T09:02:58.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Wow - it has really been a long time since I have posted.  That is actually a good thing.  It has been really quiet around here with Mom until recently.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That shot/pill to make people stop drinking really is a "Miracle Drug" - but it's too damn expensive for the people that need it.  And unfortunately, Mom was just using that and not working on her behavorial side.  But, it worked while it lasted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, Mom moved out of G's again.  She is living with the Barber in a camper on the side of the Hwy.  (Yes, I said a camper!)  She just goes back and forth between the two men....  G made two drop-ins to bring over Mom's stuff and bitch about her leaving.  Haven't heard from him since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought food for Mom through the &lt;a href="http://www.angelfoodministries.com/"&gt;Angel Food Ministries&lt;/a&gt; (actually, G paid me back)  I brought it over to her on Sunday after church (6/28).  It was the first time I saw the trailer.  Two days later, she called me and wanted me to come over and see where she is living.  I said "I was just there.  Don't you remember?"  Her response was "When?  I don't remember."  When I told her I dropped food off to her, and asked how she thought she got the food, she said "Oh, you were here Sunday.  That food was great."  She seemed out-of-it when I saw her, but I didn't know why, now I know she was "out of it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom got a cell phone with prepaid minutes, but that only lasted a week.  She called us girls until her minutes ran out.  One of the family dogs was sick last week and Mom just left town with the Barber and had A go by and check on the deathly ill dog - it was horrible.  On Monday, when she got back to town, A drove over to check on the dog and Mom.  Mom was on her way walking towards the Barber Shop.  A picked her up and Mom was actually going to the liquor store next to the BarberShop.  A said she just bought 1 beer and said "Forgive me, my dog is dying.  I need a beer."  A told her she didn't need any excuses, it is what is is and I am going home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just received a phonecall from the Barber cell phone.  Figured it was Mom.  Nope, it was the Barber looking for Mom.  She has been gone for 2 days with his truck.  Said she left during the night when he was asleep.  He has no vehicle and is walking to and from the BarberShop to work.  He didn't say, but I am sure she took his money too.  Hopefully, we hear something soon....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-8597874636750754278?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8597874636750754278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=8597874636750754278' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8597874636750754278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8597874636750754278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-6590551705816332697</id><published>2009-04-21T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T13:58:02.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I knew this time would come again.....</title><content type='html'>Last week, Mom called and asked if I would pick her up for church.  I told her that we were picking up Grandma and I would have to make sure we could take Grandmas van for the space.  She said "Nevermind.  I will drive myself.  See you there tomorrow morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, she didn't show.  But, we had a message on our machine "Sorry I didn't make it to church, my stomach is hurting.  We would like to bring Easter baskets to the boys tomorrow.  Call me."  I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her and G showed up last Monday to bring by the Easter baskets and visit.  Mom was not sober.  G had to hold her arm so she could walk up our driveway without wobbling.  She was repeating herself over and over.  She did have fun pushing Z's new play lawnmower around the room and Z thought it was funny too.  I couldn't quite place what was wrong with her until our visit was almost over.  (She ALWAYS blames it on her meds being mixed up again....)  I could definitely smell the alcohol on her.  My DH said he thought maybe she was on painkillers.  Either way, it was something.  She was complaining about her stomach hurting and how she was going to make the appt. to get her gallbladder removed.  She said she would call if she went to the hospital.  No call all last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Saturday, she calls again asking for a ride to church.  I told her we would be there at 9:45 to get her.  We picked her up, then Grandma, and the whole crew went to church Sunday.  When she got into our car, she "reeked" of perfume - I had to roll the window down so I didn't drown in it.  She also had a piece of gum.  It wasn't until part way into the service that I smelled it again.  I was sick to my stomach!  I had to remind myself where I was and why and worry about her later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we picked her up, she mentioned that she just got home from the hospital.  I said "I thought you were going to call if you went to the hospital"  "Are you feeling better, what did they say?"  Then I threw in "Stop Drinking??"  She said "No they didn't say that, but it is a problem again.  My shot is wearing off and it is too much $ to get again.  Not sure what I will do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew this time would come again.  Now I have to figure out the best way to let her know that she wasn't fooling us.  I have to let her know (again) that she is not welcome when she is not sober.  And, what hurts the most - I have to tell her that she cannot come to church with us unless she is sober.  She loves the service, (though I can't say she takes the advice well), and has already in a few weeks made a few "friends" there.  She makes her own choices and I make mine.  I wish it wasn't so difficult though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After church, Grandma wanted to go out for lunch, but Mom insisted on being brought back home first.  I am quite sure she was afraid G would yell at her.  That is also sad - the only person that will put up with her and take care of her is the same one causing her to use by his controlling ways.  He sucks.....  He just keeps her in his vicious cycle.  He actually bribes her with her addictions sometimes - then tells us he doesn't enable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked Grandma if she noticed anything after we dropped Mom off.  She just noticed the smell.  Neither one of us would have ever known if we didn't smell it.  She didn't act funny or anything.  I finally had a chance to talk to Grandma a little since we were stuck together in the car.  She said she just feels so guilty that her daughter is this way.  She said "I never knew and I just don't know how I didn't know all this time."  I just said "Grandma, it is not your fault.  And I didn't know either."  Oh this addiction crap sucks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-6590551705816332697?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/6590551705816332697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=6590551705816332697' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6590551705816332697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6590551705816332697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-knew-this-time-would-come-again.html' title='I knew this time would come again.....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3019516030651185651</id><published>2009-04-06T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T08:33:38.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Back</title><content type='html'>Finally heard from Mom this week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was her Birthday.  I called G's and left a message "Hi, this is A.  Don't know if Mom is there, but if so "Happy Birthday".  Also, the family get-together has been moved to Sunday if you are around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday I missed a call from G.  Saturday she called again - this time leaving a voicemail.  I wasn't sure if it was her or G and I wasn't about to call back and get stuck talking to him, so I was glad she left the voicemail.  I went out shopping and when I got home there was also a message on our home machine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called her back and she wanted to know if we would pick her up for church.  I decided to question her "Where have you been?" - Her response "What do you mean?  I have been here, just doing my usual.  I have a full belly and I am safe".  I said "G said you went to a rehab."  She claimed insurance would only cover outpatient and it is in a neighborhood she doesn't need to be in so she didn't go.  Then she told me that she ran into a girlfriend and G got all twisted about it.  That he turned around what the friend said to him and lied to Mom and that he is now taping all phone conversations at the house so she better not say anymore.  At this point, I dropped it (not getting anywhere....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I asked if she was coming to the Birthday Get-together.  "Of course.", she says.  Like I didn't have reason to ask that!!  She hasn't shown up to a function for a long time now - of course I have ask.  Especially since the baby fit she threw last time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went to church with us yesterday and showed up with G for the family get-together.  Unbelievable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My DH was upset about it for once.  (Or at least he finally said something).  He said "It really just pisses me off that your Mom thinks she can do whatever she wants and then just waltz back like nothing happened!  Days like today just reinforced it for her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is right!  It pisses me off too!!  I just don't know how to handle it.  I had given up questioning her and this time I tried again.  It got me nowhere as usual.  If she called and invited us for dinner, I would most likely decline, but how do I deny someone to go to church.  She knows that too.  I don't mind her going with us, when she is sober and so far she knows not to come around when she is not.  (Hence not hearing from her for the past few weeks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boys know her as the grandma from the hospital and church.  Not really anything more than that.  My 3yr old enjoyed having someone in the back seat to listen to his millions of stories, but other than that.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I will continue with "One Day at a Time" because that is all I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note - Kids say the darndest things:&lt;br /&gt;My Mom has really bad teeth and since her heavy drug use, she is losing a lot of them and they are cracked, etc.  My 3yr old said "Grandma, what's wrong with your teeth?  Yuck!"&lt;br /&gt;At least it gave us to opportunity to remind him about good teeth brushing habits!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3019516030651185651?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3019516030651185651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3019516030651185651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3019516030651185651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3019516030651185651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/04/shes-back.html' title='She&apos;s Back'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-1940258346323324017</id><published>2009-03-18T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T19:15:44.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bacoflen</title><content type='html'>Going to Google it now....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-1940258346323324017?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/1940258346323324017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=1940258346323324017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1940258346323324017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1940258346323324017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/03/bacoflen.html' title='bacoflen'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-9100410534555228425</id><published>2009-03-18T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T19:11:36.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgiveness</title><content type='html'>We just finished a powerful sermon series at Church and one of the weeks was on forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't consider myself one to have issues with this topic except for one event that really changed my opinion of my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 3 1/2 yrs ago, my Mom was having problems with her depression/anxiety and was not holding down a job.  She was filing for disability and I thought it would help her out to have her babysit our son.  It was great for us too, financially and the location.  That was until a day I will never forget.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at work when my cell phone rang and it said Momcell.  I answered it and a police officer introduced himself.  He stated that he had just arrested my mother for purchasing crack and had my son in the backseat of his vehicle.  I would need to come get him ASAP.  My baby wasn't even 3 mths old!  I melted down and then called my DH and my Dad.  My Dad got to the location before I did.  The poor DEA officer was so concerned my DS would wake up and he didn't know what to do.  When I got there, he told me that my Mom had been arrested the week before for the same thing and why would I leave my son with her.  He said next time I would be arrested for child endangerment.  I said "Don't worry, there won't be a next time."  And there hasn't been since that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea.  I blamed my Mom's behavior on her illness.  So did she.  I didn't realize she was up all hours doing crack.  I knew she was arrested the week before, but I was told it was b/c her plates were expired (this was true) and she had a warrant for a bad check (also true) - they failed to tell me the origin of the arrest.  I didn't have any reason to think otherwise.  I mean seriously, I don't even know a thing about crack - except that it really messes people up!  And at that time, I didn't know that G was a liar too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason that I can't get past this is because Mom doesn't acknowledge it.  She had the nerve to say to ds shortly after it happened  "I don't understand what the deal is.  We just went for a car ride."  A 9am crack run, I think is what she meant to say.  (And why do you say that to an infant - why not to me??)  She also said, "The officer was just trying to scare you.  You won't get arrested for letting me watch the baby."  To this day - she hasn't apologized.  I can see where she was coming from about it just being a car ride.  Apparently to her, it was no big deal.  That is the frame of mind that crack puts someone in.  But seriously, that is when our relationship went sour and she has to know that.  I am just waiting for the day she faces it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the hurdle I am trying to get over.  I have learned to live our lives separate from my Mom.  I have figured out how to keep the boys exposure to her very little - and I have come to terms with the fact that it just has to be that way.  Now I better work on dealing with the family and how they handle my Mom.  (that is why I don't call grandma, I don't like to hear her say things about Mom - always true - but I don't like it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, my Dad is also an addict.  He is in a sober period right now, but my dh and I have been having some doubts lately.  He is very close to a 4 yr sobriety, I hope he hasn't messed it up.  He went to rehab (2nd time relapse after Hepititis illness) while I was pregnant.  That is when our relationship really began - he wasn't around most of my life b/c of his addiction issues and his ex-wife.  He has been there for every moment with my boys.  It has been wonderful.  Right after I had my 2nd ds, Dad and his gf started coming over every Friday to watch the boys and let us get out.  I am not so sure about V, now his wife of 1 1/2 yrs.  I like her, but I don't know if she is the right one for my Dad.  I have a feeling she is a social drinker and I don't see how he stays sober while he is with her.  There have been a few clues, maybe as they occur this blog will be about both of my parents.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-9100410534555228425?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/9100410534555228425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=9100410534555228425' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/9100410534555228425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/9100410534555228425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/03/forgiveness.html' title='Forgiveness'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2839201996479806674</id><published>2009-03-17T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T19:14:18.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time, no post.....</title><content type='html'>Where have I been - right here, just waiting.....  waiting for that blow up moment, but it just hasn't happened.  It is really wierd and I don't know what to think!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom called me one Saturday morning.  Just to chat, etc.  She was sober.  She was talking about AA meetings and what she was doing to keep herself busy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, she called again.  Again, she was sober and just wanted to chat.  And she actually called me out for not calling Grandma (that is a whole different story and it meant she was in contact with her)  I decided to invite her to church with us.  She was so excited and said YES.  Sunday am came and I called to make sure she was still coming.  G answered and said she was sleeping and wouldn't be going.  Figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was upset for a day and then thought, whatever.  Thursday, she calls me.  I ignored it and she left a message that she was sorry she missed us Sunday.  Oh and she had a question about counted cross stitch.  That really pissed me off.  The only reason she called was b/c she had a question and then "oh yeah, I better apologize."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she called again on Saturday.  Again, she was sober.  She apologized sincerely for missing church and wanted to know if she could go this week.  She says her meds are all screwed up and she is sleepy alot.  She again mentioned her meetings and was talking about making amends with people.  (Don't know when she plans on making amends with me and my family.....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ended up going with us and had a wonderful time.  She visited with the boys in the backseat on the car ride and it was nice.  So, last Friday I called to see if she wanted to go again.  G answers and says "Well, i am not supposed to tell you but she is at rehab again."  He tells me how much she enjoyed our visit and that she is just not right.  He thinks her meds are interacting and doesn't know how to help.  It was really odd the way he talked about it.  Almost like he was making it up, then again I am not sure.  I asked if it was court-mandated, he said no.  I almost wonder if she is at a mental hospital rather than a rehab.  I think she has issues that she doesn't discuss with us girls - I am sure the crack and other drugs have not helped her mental state.  Maybe she will call soon.  Until then, I am taking One day at a time because I just don't know what to think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2839201996479806674?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2839201996479806674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2839201996479806674' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2839201996479806674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2839201996479806674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/03/long-time-no-post.html' title='Long time, no post.....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2961293094087169713</id><published>2009-03-04T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T19:15:13.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Promise Not to Do to My Kids</title><content type='html'>I fully expect to update this post as time goes on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, 3/4/09, I promise to not make false promises to my children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2961293094087169713?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2961293094087169713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2961293094087169713' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2961293094087169713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2961293094087169713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/03/things-i-promise-not-to-do-to-my-kids.html' title='Things I Promise Not to Do to My Kids'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5632053825791452439</id><published>2009-02-18T18:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T19:09:14.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>Mom called on Valentine's Day - "Hi, I have a few things for the boys.  Can I come over?"  I guess so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a 1/2hr later, her and G showed up with toys for O and chocolate for everyone else.  She was stone sober again.  (It really is funny how, when they are using - we wonder.  But when they are sober, we know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They didn't stay long.  She convinced G to buy her a new sewing machine and wanted to get home and try it.  Didn't really talk too much to the boys - I think they could sense her uncomfortableness (is that a word?)- but she tried.  She ended up calling an hour later having problems with the new machine.  I was actually able to help her and she was off sewing. (Or so she says....)  I have to blame myself for not asking her and holding her accountable, yet I just don't have the energy so I ignore it.  Probably not the best way to handle things.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have taken the advice of fractalmom and read the book Toxic Parents.  Since then I have been really trying to evaluate things more.  I think my sister is right that she never had Mom.  Our Mom is an addict and from what we have been told, has been an addict since before we were ever born.  Supposedly was quite the handful for my grandparents.  I pried Mom a few weeks ago when she was in the hospital - tried to get a better handle on her childhood.  I didn't get very far, but I have learned that she was brought up with very little emotion allowed.  Taught that problems were her own and not to bother others with them.  Grandpa never hugged or said "I love you" - you were just supposed to know.  (Grandma is that way still) Mom and her sister always mention something like the big elephant in the living room, but no one could talk about it.  Well that is exactly how I treat this situation today.  And exactly how my sister and I try to maintain the "Everything is great" persona to the world.  Wonder where we learned that behavior from.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5632053825791452439?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5632053825791452439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5632053825791452439' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5632053825791452439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5632053825791452439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-7923677507085829462</id><published>2009-02-17T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T19:14:50.627-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Past</title><content type='html'>I had convinced myself that I am a strong willed and determined person who has not allowed my past to affect my current life.  Until now.  Recently I have been feeling down and as if not cared about...basically in need of validation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After discussing the dramas and emotions I've been feeling with my friends with my dad, he asks, "Have you still been attending Al-Anon." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied, "No, not since last semester." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He explained, "After listening to you and thinking about it, you should try to go back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  He thought that I was in need of validation and that I could satisfy the need there and not care what my friends thought or did.  After thinking about this and spending my fifth night at work on my new job (well new store, I have worked for the company in the past) I realized it was bothering me to be the "newbie" stepping on everyone's toes.  No one in the store really wants to talk to me or even make eye contact for that matter and I can tell I don't fit in.  For now I have decided that is why I am in need of validation...I was a month away from management at my old store, but this store only knows me as the one who needs a refresher course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After assuming that I have found my problem and that time and practice will be the only logical solution, I realize things do dig much deeper.  While in the only private space I have in the dorms, the shower, my mind usually runs wild.  I try to spend extra "dead" time so that I have more time with me and my thoughts.  While thinking to myself for some reason an old memory comes to mind of when my mom and G got into an altercation.  I thought about how he had thrown the trash can at her face and within seconds she fleed to call the cops and I was in his face.  As I was thinking of what I had screamed to him and probably mixed with what I would say today, I felt my body tense and my hands form fists.  As I came back to reality I thought why on earth are you getting angry?! It's the past.  Done and over with and things have changed so much since then.  Realizing that I obviously haven't let go over buried feelings an overwhelming feeling of grief came over me.  I began sobing.  When I heard the door to the bathroom I realized my privacy was no longer there and that someone would be able to hear me crying, so it was time to bury it again until next time.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-7923677507085829462?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/7923677507085829462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=7923677507085829462' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7923677507085829462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7923677507085829462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/02/past.html' title='The Past'/><author><name>Daughter B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10560072788517376361</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-6289178265365443333</id><published>2009-02-12T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T18:50:43.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter</title><content type='html'>I recieved a letter from mom. It was really nice actually. The last time we had talked she was "cured" and said that she would write to me, so that we could keep contact while I am at school. Then the business with G and the Barber and the car went down. Yet I recieved a letter after all of this. She did mention getting a shot for alcohol and two pills for coccaine. I talked a lot with my father (who is 19 yrs. sobar) and he said he still won't let the thought of her being sobar cross his mind until it has been two years. He can usually bring me back to reality of not getting my hopes up for my mom to come back. He usually tries to help me understand that she probably won't ever come back, that I was too young to realize she was never here....But it is nice to have contact with her and I definetly enjoy when she writes me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-6289178265365443333?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/6289178265365443333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=6289178265365443333' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6289178265365443333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6289178265365443333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/02/letter.html' title='Letter'/><author><name>Daughter B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10560072788517376361</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-1656363385508650696</id><published>2009-02-08T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T09:07:46.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Nothing Ever Happened.....</title><content type='html'>That is always how she acts!  She called today.  Said "Hi. I got an old sewing machine and wanted to know if you still have the instruction manual to Grandma's sewing machine she gave you?" That was it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously - just like she didn't have a baby fit all last week!  Whatever, I don't even ask anymore.  Much easier if I don't know the details or have to hear the lies...  She really doesn't want me to know anyway.  Do you blame her?  I would be embarrassed too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-1656363385508650696?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/1656363385508650696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=1656363385508650696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1656363385508650696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1656363385508650696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/02/like-nothing-ever-happened.html' title='Like Nothing Ever Happened.....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-920264822589400339</id><published>2009-02-07T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T11:14:44.484-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Miracle Shot?  Yea right....</title><content type='html'>Turns out Mom was in the hospital for a week.  We thought she was being discharged the day I spoke with her.  They thought she had internal bleeding, but could not find it.  She finally checked herself out of the country hospital and came to one here in town.  They said the test results were coming up that way b/c her gallbladder was acting up again.  No one called us....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls me Friday and says she made us Chili, but can't drive it over.  I told her I would come over tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday while the boys were napping, I went over there.  She looked pretty good and was absolutely sober.  I had a really nice visit (Though there is always that empty feeling that she doesn't even know her grandkids - better that way with the way she runs her life).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find out that G took her to get some shot that supposedly "cures" the alcoholic.  G was quite convinced and Mom was sober.  She claimed that she could just walk right past a drink and wasn't even craving it.  I am thinking there is NO WAY there is just a shot that cures all of this crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a small amount of research to figure out she was taking &lt;a href="http://www.vivitrol.com/"target=new&gt;Vivitrol&lt;/a&gt;.  And it takes a lot of behavioral therapy along with the shot.  I immediately thought, what a bummer G wasted all that money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mom calls me Tuesday morning and left a voicemail.  She stated that she needed A's address, but wouldn't be back until around 1pm b/c she would be at her program.  She calls me back around 12:40.  The Barber had owed her some $, but gave her a car instead.  Oops - he should have known better.  I asked about the program and she said she was enrolled for the week and it was great.  She really liked it.  After the phone call, I sort of wondered how she was already home when she called it was before 1pm.  Whatever...  I got back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening I dropped off tax paperwork for the Barber.  He told me that G had just called him and gave him the business that he should have never gave Mom a car.  Mom went to the City and blah blah blah.  He was worried.  Again, whatever.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I get home and G calls the house "Is your Mom there?"  Of course not - is she ever here.  Then he just went off - he threw her out, the divorce is final now, she never even went to the program, went to the city as soon as she had keys to the car and then called him to bring her $ for crack and gas, blah blah......  Says apparently that shot only worked for the alcohol addiction.   NO SHIT - REALLY??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't heard from anyone since then.  He was convinced she had crack leased the car and would freeze to death on a doorstep before she would come home.  Maybe so.  What can I do about it.  Unfortunately, Nothing.  Wish there was a Miracle Shot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-920264822589400339?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/920264822589400339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=920264822589400339' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/920264822589400339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/920264822589400339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/02/miracle-shot-yea-right.html' title='A Miracle Shot?  Yea right....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3452109191130448741</id><published>2009-01-23T11:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:06:35.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Complications...</title><content type='html'>My cell-phone just rang and the caller ID said "G".  I didn't answer.  It was Mom, she actually left a voicemail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said Hi and that she just got home from the Hospital to G's house.  She said that she had complications and didn't want to alarm me so she didn't let me know.  (Last I knew she was getting released on Sat.)  She also said, "I need that last check you have."  Of course she does.  I found one last Disability check of hers in her STACK of bills.  I let her know last week when I talked to her.  I wondered how long it would before she was asking for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3452109191130448741?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3452109191130448741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3452109191130448741' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3452109191130448741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3452109191130448741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/01/complications.html' title='Complications...'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-6669984341807120110</id><published>2009-01-19T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:56:45.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A saw G today</title><content type='html'>Today A went back to school.  She was making the 2 hour drive and noticed a Company Truck ahead.  She laughed and thought "Wouldn't it be funny if that is G?"  Mom was in a hospital on the way to A's college, but we thought she was being released Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, it was G.  He was either going to pick Mom up from the Barber's house (that is what happens when she is tired of the Barber) or possibly visiting the hospital.  There really would be no other reason for him to have been on that highway....  I thought he was done this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-6669984341807120110?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/6669984341807120110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=6669984341807120110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6669984341807120110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6669984341807120110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/01/saw-g-today.html' title='A saw G today'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2908635606406871464</id><published>2009-01-17T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:53:08.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Drama Never Ends.....</title><content type='html'>A had told me that she had 2 missed calls from the BarberShop.  She figured it might be Mom and called back.  It was the Barber.  He wanted to let her know that Mom was with him in the Country (well by herself all week b/c he comes here to work), but he was checking on her each night.  He also wanted her to know that Mom was doing well and that she was down to 1 bottle of wine a day.  Right, whatever.....  that is just what she tells him I am sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I received a phone call from the Barber.  He was calling to let me know that Mom had fallen down his stairs and cut open her head.  She was in the hospital (again) and he gave me the phone number.  He said she couldn't call long distance and really wanted to hear from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stared at the phone number for awhile before I decided to call.  She answered after several rings and said she had been sleeping.  She had gotten out of bed to get another glass of wine b/c she couldn't sleep.  Apparently the basement steps are right by the refridgerator and she just stumbled.  Since the house is "under construction", there wasn't anything to grab onto like a railing, so down she went.  She was out cold for a little while - she doesn't know how long b/c she was there by herself.  She crawled to a neighbor and they called 911 for her.  She has a minor concussion and staples in her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said "I am so glad you called, I really miss you girls!".  She told me what she had been up to for the past week - staying in the country at the Barber's house.  She had her dog with her too.  She said her and the Barber were going to give it another try (that might be like the 100th try!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a really great conversation.  I was on the phone almost an hour!  It was just like talking to "Mom" again.  She listened and offered advice.  She was concerned about my DH wrist/surgery.  She asked about the boys.  It was all genuine - she didn't want something from me this time.  Unfortunately, I took it for just that - a nice talk with Mom.  I know that nothing will change - I know not to get my hopes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told A what had happened and that she might want to give Mom a call while we knew where she was and there was a phone# attached to her.  I am pretty sure she didn't call.  She is still VERY angry with Mom and the whole situation.  I try not to be angry b/c it just upsets me.  We shall see what happens next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2908635606406871464?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2908635606406871464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2908635606406871464' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2908635606406871464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2908635606406871464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/01/drama-never-ends.html' title='The Drama Never Ends.....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-6070697220505822725</id><published>2009-01-10T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T19:48:25.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce is Back On</title><content type='html'>Wonder how many times I will post that statement? (I really would like to see his lawyer's face each time he makes that call too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came home from a hair appointment this morning and saw a truck in my driveway.  Oh Great, it's G.  "Divorce is back on.  I am calling the lawyer on Monday.  She is gone with the Barber again."  Then proceeds to rip on the Barber and tell me about Mom and her horrible doings.  He repeated the car crash story.  He also had carpal tunnel surgery last week and said he only got 2 of his pain pills before she got a hold of them.  None of this surprises me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did that to me years ago, when I had my wisdom teeth removed.  When I asked her "What do I do when it hurts?" She responded "We just call the dentist, tell him you are in major pain and we get more."  And that is just what she did too.  Back then, I didn't even know she had a problem - wow was I blind!  Actually, I wasn't blind just naive - I was also away at college for 5 years and it was being kept from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G says "I am sorry to involve you in this.  I just thought you and your sister would like her pictures so they don't get ruined.  Your mother doesn't take care of them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ass he is sorry to involve me.  That is just what he was trying to do.  My life would not have ended if he didn't drive those two boxes of pictures over here.  He just wanted to have the chance for a bitch fest.  I edged my way towards the house and said "I have to take Z to Disney on Ice.  Thanks for the pictures."  He got the hint and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A and I had a great time going through the pictures.  We even found her baby book, she didn't think she had.  It was so wierd though.  Almost like she was already gone and we were trying to preserve what we had left.  Hmmm.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-6070697220505822725?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/6070697220505822725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=6070697220505822725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6070697220505822725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6070697220505822725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/01/divorce-is-back-on.html' title='Divorce is Back On'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-8872016013902949476</id><published>2009-01-05T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T19:32:43.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She remembered</title><content type='html'>Today is my 31st Birthday.  My Mom remembered and called me.  I was at work, and just didn't feel like answering.  She left a slurred voicemail.  "Hi honey.  I just wanted to call and tell you Happy Birthday.  And wish you guys good luck.  I hope you had a good Christmas.  Love you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure what she meant by good luck, but she remembered to say "Happy Birthday".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-8872016013902949476?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8872016013902949476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=8872016013902949476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8872016013902949476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8872016013902949476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2009/01/she-remembered.html' title='She remembered'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3894852559074894263</id><published>2008-12-31T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T19:17:47.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Eve</title><content type='html'>Tonight we got together with the family for January Bdays.  We went to a Buffet for dinner.  I called Mom and left a message with the plans and the time.  Didn't really think she would come.  We were all seated and starting to get our food when she showed up.  I couldn't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also couldn't believe what she looked like.  She looks like she is dying.  There is no question in my mind.  It hurts so bad to see her that way.  She has gained a lot of weight - which hopefully means the crack is gone by the wayside.  But, it probably just means she has cut back (not by choice, but because she has no transportation or money).  She has been drinking so heavily that the doctor's have already cautioned her about her liver and kidneys.  They also tell her she has COPD.  She is just so puffy like water weight.  She was nodding off at the table, said she just took her meds before she came.  Her eyes were bloodshot and she was so short of breath.  Her and G brought Christmas presents in and the walk to the car and back inside made her weeze.  She was soo shaky too.  So sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all got TomToms for Christmas.  I thanked G.  It wasn't necessary and he knew that.  Doesn't matter, he does it every year.  Then he told me that he got one too, but no longer has a car to put it in.  Says that Mom totalled his car last week, completely drunk and even hollering at the police that she was sober.  He is driving a Company truck for now.  What a mess!  Says he didn't tell me b/c she was okay and that was what mattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.  It seems that A and I were better off not knowing.  She didn't want us to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3894852559074894263?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3894852559074894263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3894852559074894263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3894852559074894263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3894852559074894263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-years-eve.html' title='New Years Eve'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-6451373941634153110</id><published>2008-12-28T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T18:53:10.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Follow-up</title><content type='html'>Christmas Eve -&lt;br /&gt;We all start arriving and my cousins are getting dinner on the table.  No Mom.  I tried to call her at Gs around 4:30, no answer.  I left a voicemail.  I mention to my Aunt, "I wonder where Mom is?  It doesn't seem like she is going to show up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt appears shocked and says "She said she was coming."  My Aunt then tells me that Mom called her this afternoon and "let her have it"  Apparantly, Mom told her she wasn't going to allow the family to treat her that way and just stand back.  She wanted her sister to know that she was upset to not be invited for Christmas.  She did the whole act - crying, yelling, etc. but swore she would be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom didn't show.  Grandma made comments about how we don't get "personal invitations" around here.  Aunt K just doesn't understand, or chooses not to.  Most times I think it is the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sucked this was the first Christmas w/o Mom.   She may have been sleeping on the couch years past, but she was there - My sister and I made the best of it, smiled and opened the gifts.  Then we came home and she and my DH helped me get ready for the morning for my boy's.  We bit the cookies, drank the milk, and put out the presents from Santa.  That was soo much FUN!  The joy of little kids - I love it!!!!  I have a 3 &amp; 1 yr old.  So, this year was the first year for my older one to understand what was going on!  Makes it all worth it - those kids do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't help but feel sadness that my Mom doesn't participate in it.  Wow is she missing out.  It is definately her loss!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - I called her Christmas morning just to say "Merry Christmas" (and to see if she would even answer)  She tried to play it off and said "In all my 51 yrs, I have never missed a Christmas until now.  It was so unorganized I didn't even know what time or where to be - next time I will plan it.  But I will be there for New Years."  Then she wanted us to come over with Gs kids and have breakfast and open presents.  Ha Ha - I don't think so!  I said "Sorry, we are having our family Christmas with the boys right now.  Then my dad is coming over to see the boys.  Then we are leaving for the inlaws out of town"  She had her chance last night.  It felt good to say that and she understood.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-6451373941634153110?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/6451373941634153110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=6451373941634153110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6451373941634153110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/6451373941634153110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-follow-up.html' title='Christmas Follow-up'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-8995168963388629937</id><published>2008-12-24T06:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T06:44:53.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>Christmas Eve is here.  My family has celebrated on Christmas Eve as long as I can remember.  When I was little, we went to the Church service to watch me in the play.  Then we went out to dinner and back to Grandma &amp; Grandpas to open presents.  We were always told that Santa came early just for us.  I went to my Dad's house on Christmas Day.  This year, there will be no church program and no "out to dinner".  I can only hope that Mom will show up.  Then again, my sister and I are so anxious that she will.  It will be uncomfortable - no one knows what to say to her.  Grandma is quite upset with her and shows it.  She knows how we feel about her behavior and I don't know that saying it does any good.  Plus, we like to have her when we can and we don't like to rock the boat....   UGH - I hope tonight turns out okay!  I am saying my prayers all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom just called me on my cell.  She said "Hi honey.  I am calling to find out the Family plans for Christmas."  I had no idea that my cousin had not called her.  My cousin is in charge this year - she even got the phone # from me to call her.  I said "I honestly don't know the time b/c I am working today.  J wanted us to come over at 3pm but I don't know if I will be there."  Next thing I know she is bawling on the other side of the phone and insists she is Fine.  Finally she sobs "I don't understand why it is so hard to call me and let me know what is up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel horrible!  Mom has genuinely been trying.  I can't say that she has been sober, but she had called me and I had called her.  She even returned a phone call I made to her.  She tried to make us dinner after my DH surgery, but she burned it.  The least I could have done was mention the Christmas plans.  I just have been so busy with my DH, my 2 boys, work, and my sister coming home that Christmas is about to pass me by!  I don't even have presents wrapped yet for today!  (Luckily my sister is helping me!  What would I do w/o her???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is the hardest part of dealing with Mom!  When she is putting forth the effort, how much are we supposed to put forth?  It is just too hard to trust her and try to make things work when you know that it will happen again.  It is easier to ignore.....to shield my boys from it....to just do nothing....  BUT - if I were her - it would be so hard to stay sober when your own family ignores you.  Isn't it better for her for us to be in her life when she needs us the most.  What a double-edged sword!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-8995168963388629937?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8995168963388629937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=8995168963388629937' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8995168963388629937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8995168963388629937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-7385488342982379866</id><published>2008-12-16T16:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T16:55:57.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey Soup</title><content type='html'>Last week we got homemade Turkey Soup for Thanksgiving from Mom.  She called and my sister went over and picked it up before heading back to school.  It was fantastic!  Just like the old days.  I called the house the next morning and left a message - "Thanks for the Soup, it was great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple days later she calls and says "Hi hon.  I was able to see everyone for Thanksgiving except for you.  What happened?  Where were you - Did Grandma tell you I showed up for the Family dinner?"  She made small talk and wanted me to call her to get together over the weekend.  She also wanted to know if I would like some Chili next time she cooks.  The next day I had a missed call from her, when I returned it there was no answer.  I left a message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning - 10am on the nose.  Here we go again.  This time it is G.  "A, do you have my crock your mom sent soup over in?"  Yes, here on the table.  "She's gone again, divorce is back on, I am coming to pick it up"  He then proceeded to rant for about 20 minutes about how horrible my mom is.  I just want to scream "THEN TELL HER NO!!  JUST FOLLOW THROUGH FOR ONCE, G!"  Instead, I just listen and let him go.  I put his dish on the porch and we hid when he showed up to pick it up.  I just didn't want to hear it again.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, fast forward to today.. On my way home, my cell rings "Gcell"  I ignored it and then listened to the voicemail.  It was mom again.  "Hi hon, I need $240 for Christmas shopping - if you have any checks of mine left.  Please call me"  I wasn't home for 10 minutes and the house phone rang.  "Did you get my message".  I told her No.  She stated that she &lt;em&gt;needed &lt;/em&gt;$240 to finish Christmas shopping and G won't give it to her.  He was yelling the background "Tell her why - tell her you moved out"  She says she will show me the receipts so I know she shopped with the $ and she will send G over to get it so I know she doesn't have it.  I said "I don't control you or your $, the checks just happen to be here"  She says they are coming right over to get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She shows up, gets the check and leaves.  That is really about it.  She gave me a hug and said "I love you honey."  I said nothing except that I don't have any more of your $ here.  She didn't ask to see the boys.  She didn't ask about me.  She didn't ask about my husband who is having surgery tomorrow.  She just wanted the money...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pissed off, is really all I can say.  Maybe tomorrow it will be hurt, but right now I am ANGRY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-7385488342982379866?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/7385488342982379866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=7385488342982379866' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7385488342982379866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7385488342982379866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/12/turkey-soup.html' title='Turkey Soup'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3838486527075369523</id><published>2008-11-23T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T17:56:43.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trouble Again</title><content type='html'>9:05am - The house phone rings.  I cringed.  I just knew it was her - something about the time, she always does that, calls a couple minutes after a time she thinks is okay to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a collect call from the xxxDetention Facility.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took that cab to the city and spent her $ on drugs - then didn't have enough to pay the driver for the ride home.  Her exact words "Apparently they call that theft.."  WELL YEAH!  What did she expect??  She wants me to come bail her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to.  I called my sister and she supported my choice.  The only thing that was making me feel guilty was that I had mom's $ and the ability to get her out.  When I called, she only had about 8 hrs left to sit.  Ok she can just sit there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the afternoon, I called G and let him know what had happened while he was out of town.  I told him I was afraid to go get mom b/c she would probably be mean and hateful to me for not bailing her out.  He said he would take care of it.  I decided to let him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called the jail to make sure the time she was to get out.  Only to find out that there was a warrant in another city.  So, we are definitely thinking the probation will be revoked now.   OMG - that means our Mom will have to serve 2 years.  Crazy to even think about.  It was already crazy that she served time the first time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3838486527075369523?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3838486527075369523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3838486527075369523' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3838486527075369523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3838486527075369523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/trouble-again.html' title='Trouble Again'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-8168931278473813597</id><published>2008-11-22T17:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T17:47:47.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Raincheck....</title><content type='html'>She doesn't answer in the morning when I call.  Oh well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she calls me - she is crying and being ridiculous about fighting with the Barber.  She says she doesn't want to go anywhere today.  Sorry.  Oh well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later she calls again and says "I don't want to mess around.  I am calling for $.  I would like a raincheck for hanging out together.   That is, if you will give me one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I didn't have her money.  At least it is almost gone - then I won't have that to deal with......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at the ATM and my cell phone rings.  She wants to make sure I am on my way b/c she already called a cab ride.  (ALREADY called a cab ride!!  Can you believe that??)  I was only at the house about 5 minutes before the cab came.  She just acts like nothing has ever happened.  All of a sudden she is "my mom" again and is talking about Christmas plans.  Like she will be around for Christmas - she hasn't been to a family function in forever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-8168931278473813597?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8168931278473813597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=8168931278473813597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8168931278473813597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8168931278473813597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/raincheck.html' title='Raincheck....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-218684278252555927</id><published>2008-11-21T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T17:41:23.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Phone Call</title><content type='html'>My Dad was over visiting with the boys when Mom calls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Hon.  How's it going?"&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, how about you?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, the Same ol' shit."  (She wasn't lying!)&lt;br /&gt;Then she proceeds to tell me that G is gone hunting and she is bored.  She would like to know if I am busy.  I tell her that Dad is visiting and she says "What about tomorrow?"  She wants to go Christmas shopping and spend some time with the boys.  I told her that I am going to get food in the morning if she wants to ride along and we can then go shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I get off the phone, my husband says "Sounds like she is up to something..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-218684278252555927?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/218684278252555927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=218684278252555927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/218684278252555927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/218684278252555927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/phone-call.html' title='A Phone Call'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-1650053284075194217</id><published>2008-11-20T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T22:00:40.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Triggered Memories</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting in my dorm room with a sorority sister and I forget the context but she mentions igloos in Canada.  Where does my mind lead? To a time in elementary school when I was stuck with what I thought was a horrendous assignment about igloos.  After throwing a fit to my mom about how unfair it is that I got that topic, she surprises me the next day with several books from the library about igloos.  Of course from here it leads to all the great things she has done for me and I can't help but wonder where my mom went.  I then think of the time when she got a big blue coat from Old Navy for Christmas and how upset I was that she had gotten the wrong one.  The same guilt of hurting her rushes over me as if I was in sixth grade again.  It seems like I can't let my guilt and pain of feeling as though I had an effect on her need to use go because she still hasn't come home.  I've realized now that I'm older she has really been gone for a long time now, and I'm stuck sorting out the memories.  This is a difficult task for me because when my sister pulled me out of the disastrous situation I blocked most everything that caused me pain.  I know that I had to leave and take care of myself in order to survive but I can't help but think about how I used to know what was going on with her.  I do realize that this was extremely unhealthy because I tormented myself to control and fix it all.  But I can't help but wonder if it's just as tormenting to wonder about the unknown.  I'm stuck crying at midnight when my day is finally done because this afternoon a conversation triggered buried memories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-1650053284075194217?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/1650053284075194217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=1650053284075194217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1650053284075194217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1650053284075194217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/triggered-memories.html' title='Triggered Memories'/><author><name>Daughter B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10560072788517376361</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3351589443133231268</id><published>2008-11-20T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T09:22:23.184-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uneasy &amp; Anxious Again</title><content type='html'>Well, it has been since my last post that I have heard about/from Mom.  I know what she is up to - whatever, that is her choice.  What I don't like is the uneasy and anxious feeling I have the past couple days because I haven't heard from her and I know something is gonna happen soon.  It always does.  If only I knew when.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister B and I talk on the phone and one of us will say "Have you heard from Mom?".  "No." "Me, neither"   Pause.......  Then we just go on with our conversation.  It doesn't seem worth it to wonder where she is or what is up.  We just know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3351589443133231268?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3351589443133231268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3351589443133231268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3351589443133231268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3351589443133231268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/uneasy-anxious-again.html' title='Uneasy &amp; Anxious Again'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-400260729978515777</id><published>2008-11-06T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T23:19:46.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed Call</title><content type='html'>So after coming down with a sudden cold, I took a long nap during the day.  During this nap my phone rang. Mom Cell appeared on the caller ID.  Half asleep I decided I couldn't deal with anything right then so I would listen to the voicemail.....No voicemail.  Now all I can do is wonder what she could have possibly wanted to talk about.  Just say hi and I love you? Or try to explain things she probably doesn't know I know about?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-400260729978515777?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/400260729978515777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=400260729978515777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/400260729978515777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/400260729978515777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/missed-call.html' title='Missed Call'/><author><name>Daughter B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10560072788517376361</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5497480689278170814</id><published>2008-11-05T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T08:56:36.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The "Real" Story</title><content type='html'>At least the "Real" story according to G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving home from work today, cell phone rings - caller ID "G"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello.&lt;br /&gt;Is your mom with you?&lt;br /&gt;No.  I am just leaving work.  I tried to call her this morning and let her know I was sending a Bday package to Sister if she wanted to put in a note.  There wasn't an answer.&lt;br /&gt;I saw your # on caller ID, I was just hoping she was with you.  She is gone again.  Her clothes and few belongings.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, not with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And he swears this time the divorce will be final, he is sick of this shit, she just uses him, blah blah blah - lets see what he does.......)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and he decided to tell me what happened with the car accident (probably b/c I asked if he was okay and he couldn't lie to me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom "lent" her car to her dealer last week for drugs.  She was supposed to get it back and the guy was giving her trouble.  She called G on Saturday (from a liquor store) and said she needed his help to get her car back.  The dealers would be at a funeral and that is also where her car would be.  Supposedly he got jacked in the face in the process of getting the car back.  That is where his injury occured.  Then she wanted $ from him and he said "No lets just get home".  She was following him home and then she took off at an exit.  He didn't turn around at the next exit - he wouldn't find her and he knew what she was up to, so he just went home.  He received a call from her at the Hospital Monday am and that is when he called me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugghh....  What a world this is!  There are just so many things out there that I have no clue about.  And really, I shouldn't.  Just leave it to my Mom to be the one to teach me about them.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5497480689278170814?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5497480689278170814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5497480689278170814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5497480689278170814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5497480689278170814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/real-story.html' title='The &quot;Real&quot; Story'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-342184116241837490</id><published>2008-11-04T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T18:35:53.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now She Has Her Story Straight</title><content type='html'>This morning on the way to work, I decided to call G-cell and see if I can get more information out of him.  No answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later, Mom calls and says "I saw you tried to call me."  Once again I inquire about the accident, how she is, etc.  I figure now she has had time to conconct a story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tells me that her and G were driving home and she doesn't remember what happened, back to the tire or brakes story.  I said "What, G was with you?  Why didn't he call me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I really don't know.  I was out for two days and just woke up yesterday.  I don't know what he hit.  I hit the windshield.  Maybe he couldn't call long distance from the Hospital."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then asked a few more questions and inquired about her being in the City Located Hospital.  She then says "I guess now is the time to tell the truth - we were in the city to attend one of my drug dealers funeral.  He was shot.  I guess its no loss to you.  Thats the truth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a few things about this conversation that did not make sense and according to Judge Judy - "If something doesn't make sense, it's not true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why wouldn't G call me sooner?  He always calls for emergencies.&lt;br /&gt;Why did he call yesterday and leave the voicemail "Your mom has been in an accident."  It wasn't "we were in an accident."&lt;br /&gt;And why would he go to her drug dealers funeral??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well - I call my sister to update her on the situation.  Of course, Mom has not called her.  How can you be in a life/death car accident and not call your daughter.  Just another thing that doesn't make sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-342184116241837490?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/342184116241837490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=342184116241837490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/342184116241837490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/342184116241837490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/now-she-has-her-story-straight.html' title='Now She Has Her Story Straight'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-7659956758887531436</id><published>2008-11-03T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T14:27:03.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imagine my Surprise.....</title><content type='html'>Well, just as we all thought, Mom was a no-show to O's 1st Birthday party yesterday.  I spent the entire car ride to work trying to decide if I am mad at her or not.  Seems that more than anything, it just hurts my feelings, even though I didn't really expect her to show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cell phone rings while I am at work - the caller ID says "G-Cell".  I figure it is mom and I'm not in the mood for her excuses.  She can leave them on the voicemail.  I go ahead and listen to it once my phone beeps.  It is actually G - he is calling to let me know that Mom has been in a serious car accident, but she is okay.  He tells me that she just woke up and has been out since Saturday when it happened.  I immediately dial his phone back and he answers.  He didn't really say much, but gave the phone to Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask if she is Okay and what happened.  She says she really isn't sure.  She either tapped her brakes wrong or her tire blew out.  Either way, she started spinning out on the highway and ended up hitting a Semi.  Scary, scary!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then starts crying and says a couple times "I am so sorry that I missed the Birthday Party".  I told her "That is ok, I am just glad you are okay and you didn't miss it for some other reason".  She says "I have to go, I don't feel well" and just hangs up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bawled.  I don't usually let her get to me, but this time it did!  I feel so twisted for her!  I know she feels terrible deep down for her actions, yet I also know that she probably would have missed it for something else had she not been in an accident (I am really trying to not kid myself)  She doesn't take the blame for her actions - in this case it was the brakes or the tire and she claims she was sober.  So, how can I be mad at someone who already feels bad enough??  Ugh, don't I deserve to be mad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-7659956758887531436?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/7659956758887531436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=7659956758887531436' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7659956758887531436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7659956758887531436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/imagine-my-surprise.html' title='Imagine my Surprise.....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-1207552031956958455</id><published>2008-11-01T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T14:00:11.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MIA again?</title><content type='html'>This morning the Barber called and said, "Have you seen your mother?  I haven't seen her since last Wednesday and G hasn't seen her either."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, sorry I haven't."  I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know why he calls me, she nevers is with me.  I have never seen her.  He must know by now that I am not the person she runs to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - that was my first clue that she probably wouldn't show up the Bday party tomorrow.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-1207552031956958455?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/1207552031956958455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=1207552031956958455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1207552031956958455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/1207552031956958455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/11/mia-again.html' title='MIA again?'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5119264348758438853</id><published>2008-10-27T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:57:27.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce Papers again?</title><content type='html'>Today I received a phone call (caller ID said Gcell) that I chose to ignore. It was mom wanting to know if I could notarize the divorce papers for her and G. We are serious this time she says. I had already left work to take my sick baby to the Dr. and didn't have my seal with me so I didn't call her back until later that evening. G said she was gone to her apt, maybe I would catch her tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5119264348758438853?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5119264348758438853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5119264348758438853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5119264348758438853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5119264348758438853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/10/divorce-papers-again.html' title='Divorce Papers again?'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-7867992293226094555</id><published>2008-10-25T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:51:29.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While mom was in the hospital, she requested to help us get the boys ready for Halloween.  I told her that would be great, or if she wasn't up to it, we could come by her place on the way to trick-or-treating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called to let me know she was home from the hospital and that she had received my invitation to O's 1st Bday party on Sunday.  She promised she would be there.  Didn't mention a word about Halloween.  I didn't either......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-7867992293226094555?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/7867992293226094555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=7867992293226094555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7867992293226094555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/7867992293226094555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/10/while-mom-was-in-hospital-she-requested.html' title=''/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-4854543682565448891</id><published>2008-10-22T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:52:05.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pacemaker Problems</title><content type='html'>So it seems that mom did not follow the Dr. orders after her pacemaker was installed. She did too much and caused a wire to come loose. The loose wire was resting on her diaphragm and that is what was causing the hiccup-like jolts she was feeling. So back to surgery she goes......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She made it through, but said "I am sure going to watch myself this time! It is much more painful the 2nd time around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out, she had an infection. Had to spend a few more days in the hospital on IV antibiotics. She was finally released sometime around the 24th - 25th. Wouldn't know, since she didn't call. Not really a surprise anymore.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-4854543682565448891?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/4854543682565448891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=4854543682565448891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/4854543682565448891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/4854543682565448891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/10/pacemaker-problems.html' title='Pacemaker Problems'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-5612966947404483120</id><published>2008-10-19T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T07:13:17.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I am.....</title><content type='html'>Well the next morning, she just shows up at the house.  Says she was at the ER all evening and night and something must be wrong with her pacemaker.  She says come here and hug me, you can feel it.  Sure enough, she was getting jolted like she had really bad hiccups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ER said the pacemaker was fine and couldn't find anything wrong with her.  The jolts would come and go.  After she "proved" to us that she wasn't out using, she was just at the hospital, she scurried out the door as fast as she could.  Again, no interaction with her grandbabies......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smelled like alcohol even though she claimed to be sober.  Once again, I don't believe her....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-5612966947404483120?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/5612966947404483120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=5612966947404483120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5612966947404483120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/5612966947404483120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/10/here-i-am.html' title='Here I am.....'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3378986211979586721</id><published>2008-10-18T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T06:44:45.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now what happened?</title><content type='html'>Daughter #2 was in town from college this weekend.  Mom actually remembered, called, and made plans to get together.  Hmm.....  Okay we will go with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday evening comes, Daughter #2 shows up at Mom's apt. and no one is there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we are pissed!  MIA again......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3378986211979586721?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3378986211979586721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3378986211979586721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3378986211979586721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3378986211979586721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/10/now-what-happened.html' title='Now what happened?'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-4251250733147484851</id><published>2008-10-06T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T13:13:40.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She Needs Money for a Hotel Room?</title><content type='html'>Tonight mom showed up while we were eating dinner.  I went to answer the door and stepped out on the front porch.  She said, "Honey, I am in big trouble." (Uh Oh, now what is all I could think - well actually I was seriously afraid for a moment that she hurt G).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said her and G got into a huge fight and she grabbed her keys and ran.  She didn't even have her purse or ID on her.  She said G was probably calling the police on her now since she was driving w/o an ID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said "I need one of my checks.  I don't care if it has to be paid back, I need to get some rest away from the men.  Just enough for a Hotel room.  I am going right up the street and checking in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What could I do - It is her money.  I gave her a check and she left right away.  She didn't want to step in the house, but I made her.  She didn't really say much to the boys (you know, her grandchildren), but did at least say hi to Z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to get her to stay on our couch, but she said "Now you know that I wouldn't feel comfortable with that and neither would you.  Lets not kid ourselves here."  I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it.......  I also asked if she just wanted to talk, she snapped back "About what"  I said "Anything, anything at all".  She actually smiled and said "Thanks, but not right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also said some other hateful things - That I don't have to worry about calling Grandma and "telling on her" for cashing a check, she would call herself and tell on herself.  Like we are trying to control her and her money or something - we were just looking out for her......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was not the least bit sober and was a bit wobbly on her feet.  I just let her go - what can I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After she left I wondered how she was going to cash that check at 6pm??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 30 - 45 minutes later she shows back up with the check in one hand and her ID in the other.  Schnucks would not cash the check for her (she says).  (And I am really confused how she got her ID - supposedly she ran out of the house w/o it).  She wants me to do it for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell her that I can deposit in our account, but we have a limit on our ATM withdraws and I cannot take out the whole amount in one day.  She says "No problem, I only need enough for a hotel room."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed home with her and sent DH out to the bank for her.  While he was out, she sat on the couch with Z &amp;amp; O.  Z talked with her and it seemed that she was enjoying the boys company, but as soon as the $ showed up, she was gone.  : (&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I think she went to a hotel?  No.  I really don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-4251250733147484851?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/4251250733147484851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=4251250733147484851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/4251250733147484851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/4251250733147484851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/10/she-needs-money-for-hotel-room.html' title='She Needs Money for a Hotel Room?'/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-8300108482927193033</id><published>2008-09-29T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T18:39:23.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mom made it through the procedure.  They did not do it until later in the day, so by the time I called she still wasn't quite awake yet.  Guess who answered the phone?  That's right, the Barber....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-8300108482927193033?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8300108482927193033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=8300108482927193033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8300108482927193033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/8300108482927193033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/09/mom-made-it-through-procedure.html' title=''/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-3516845587139634831</id><published>2008-09-27T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T18:37:18.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Visit Mom in the Hospital. Scheduled to have a pacemaker put in on Monday. The doctor told her she has to stop her ways!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-3516845587139634831?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3516845587139634831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=3516845587139634831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3516845587139634831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/3516845587139634831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/09/visit-mom-in-hospital.html' title=''/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611527161433819626.post-2319251870555424437</id><published>2008-09-24T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T18:36:53.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Received a phone call from my mom today.  She is in the Hospital again.  They are not exactly sure what is going on, but guessing gallbladder.  She is waiting for an ultrasound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4611527161433819626-2319251870555424437?l=daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/2319251870555424437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4611527161433819626&amp;postID=2319251870555424437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2319251870555424437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4611527161433819626/posts/default/2319251870555424437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughtersofanaddict.blogspot.com/2008/09/received-phone-call-from-my-mom-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Daughter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08361667665893234664</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
