Shine on you CRAZY ANGRY GERMAN DIAMONDS!!!

Watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy.  The original sweedish version is on hulu plus. SWWEEEEEDDDISSSHHHH.

Takes about six hours. I doubt I'll watch the american version. I've had plenty enough thank you.

So how was it you ask? Well, I watched all six hours and didn't pause in the middle to go to wikipedia.  THAT SAYS A LOT PEOPLE. I'm all about the spoilers. I'm all about reading instead of watching.

I have five kids and no attention span. Reading through the movie takes much less time than watching. And less effort too. Yet, The Girl trilogy managed to catch me.

It is worth the effort. However, there is a LOT of violence against the woman up there. Who is by no means is a girl. Late 20's. It's hard watching sometimes. I fast forwarded through chunks. I found the lesbian sex scene dumb by the way. Not honest or earnest. The naughty scenes in the first film are earnest. No naughty scenes in the third. Just an FYI there for ya.

 

 

Some parents gently rock their babies to sleep. Our babies sit on Mr. Hall's lap as he rocks out to Rammstein. This music is German, industrial and loud. They have a axe to grind with America and capitalism. They also like fire and dressing in costumes. Du Hast, Mein Land and Kiene Lust are interesting videos. Not exactly safe for work NOR safe for kids. They have other videos I can't mention because they aren't safe for me!

 

I find it slightly ironic. Go ahead and get a mohawk. Get down with your facial piercings and scowly badself. PUNK NOT DEAD and all. But, it's just another system of beliefs  that's sold to you. Being a rebel is just another word for conforming elsewhere. So go ahead you crazy Rammsteins, shine on you ANGRY GERMAN DIAMONDS!!

 

Babies don't know this though. They just like being on Daddy's lap all bouncey bounce! With loud German industrial music ripping through the speakers. They bounce, they tire, they lay their head down and pass the heck out. Best system ever.

 

 There is a puddle of drool under his cheek.



 

 



AND NOW . . .

my thoughts on The Walking Dead

I think I've broken up with The Walking Dead. I don't read spoilers or chase new episodes. I used to love it now.... Nothing. I think it was the pigs. That episode with the pigs just friggin killed me.

And then the last one. With the toddler size baby who almost was killed by the kid. That is just not acceptable. Even in jest. I realize it's a dark, cruel world but enough. I think I've had enough.

All that surviving is wearing me down.

Time to find a new show. Something that doesn't have the color pallette of BLACK/GRAY/EAT 112 OZ OF PUDDING/GERMAN ANGRY!!!!

DU HAST!!!

Oh Christmas tree, fake Christmas tree . . . .

When Mr. Hall and I started dating, we bought a used Christmas tree. It was ugly and full of webs. We vacummed and loved it. Our first Christmas tree. Some 14 years ago. (aww!!)

Several moves later I got a hankering for a real tree. Mr. Hall as having none of it. "We have a tree. When we've put it up more times then the of number times I've moved it--then we'll get a real one!"

The magic number was four by the way. The tree needed to be up four times before we could get a real tree. I don't think we waited that long though. We bought a real tree this year. It was a great adventure--taking all the kids out and hunting for a real tree.

There is something about my husband that wants to see things through. That once he puts effort in, he'll hold tight and settle in. He has endurance.

I've seen these traits while hunting for a new house. I've seen it with the Christmas tree. I see it now with our foster kids.

We just took 30 hours of foster parent training and boy are my arms tired! Wait! That's not the right joke! We did take 30 hours of foster parent training though. And that is a lot!!!!

The moms of our 2 foster kids are falling the frick apart. Despite many opportunities, services and lots of things handed to them--they aren't doing well. It comes down to their stupid choices. And I'm in no mood to be non-judgemental right now, God forgive me.

But, just like everything else in fosterhood, the next steps take time. People ask, "Why don't you just adopt the kids?" It is not that simple. The moms still have chances. And if the moms are out of chances, the foster kid's family gets asked to adopt first.

Which irritates me. If the other family members were able take care of them, then what the hell have we been doing this past year? This past year (and plus some) we've been tying shoes, making meals, cleaning clothes, wiping noses, reading school reports, addressing behaviors and being mom and dad.

I say to Mr. Hall, "We've put in all this work and now we don't get the reward!"

He says, "The reward is not more kids! The reward is a vacation in the Florida Keys. COSTA RICA MAYBE!! We need a vacation! Which we can't take until we hand these kids back to their moms!"

Which makes sense. The weight of caring for five children is a lot. We are sleep deprived and needy for each other.

But yet... my selfishness. It grows. The need for these kids outweighs my intellect. My knowing family is best for these kids. It doesn't stop my heart from breaking. So sad. So sad.

I say this to Mr. Hall, wanting to adopt these kids. He says, "I want to be a foster parent longer then it took to take those dang classes!"

Just like the Christmas tree . . . :)

The Dream Exchange

In my dream. Last night.

(background about me--I'm a mental health professional who works with addicts daily. Alcohol addiction is the most common of all addictions.)

I opened my office door to let my patient in. Scores of family members began to walk in, in lines of two by two. I yelped to get their attention. "If you are his wife or daughters, you can stay, the rest need to stay outside." The crowd reversed itself. Approximately six women remained. But, no patient.

He was still in the hospital, detoxing from alcohol. I was to order a urine drug screen and talk with the patient about alcohol treatment. Via skype. On a cell phone the size of a T-81 calculator.

 

 

 

The patient appeared in the screen. Flanked by two more daughters. I asked him if he felt he had a problem with alcohol. Because being in a hospital bed, detoxing from alcohol, this is not enough evidence for some people that THEY HAVE A PROBLEM. Neither is 6 DUIs or having lost marriages, homes and custody of children. Denial is huge with addiction.

So is having an attitude.

Which my dream patient had in spades. He said, "there are lots of reasons my drug screen could have come up positive for alcohol." And the family grew restless with me. All manner of six women and two on the screen murmurred that I wasn't fixing him. That I wasn't taking care of it.

I gingerly threw the cell phone against the wall. It gently broke. The women left in a huff. I followed them and found many more family members in the waiting room. Children even. Enough family members and assorted children to fill a big yellow bus. All leaving in a huff.

 

 

During this dream I could have busted out my therapuetic communication techniques. I could have therapuetically aligned myself with all of them but I'm not going to. At least in the dream.

Anyone working with addicts knows it can wear you down. Especially if their pathology is locked in the family dynamic. Enablers help addicts stay sick. Families often look to mental health professionals to fix their addicted love one. They forget that the problem and the solution begin WITH THE ADDICT. And when we don't fix them they get on a bus, in a huff, and leave.

I'm very tired and in much need of a vacation. This is what this dream means. I don't see a vacation anytime soon though.

SO--i'll increase my time off. Increase my crossfit. Increase my yoga. Increase my bible study. And relax because I have 25 more years until I retire and will wait for awesome until then. And awesome does happen, it really does.

:)