Still Lucky

Wow!  It's been four years. I am a bad, bad blogger!

We did get pretty busy with having four extra kids. My last post detailed all the wonderful ways in which we were blessed after we took in my nieces and nephews. We were given a good queen size bed. People brought us groceries. We got help with Christmas presents through two different charity organizations. We'd just gotten stable enough to get off food stamps, but soon figured out we needed that back, so I reapplied and we were able to get about $500 a month in food stamps, which was amazingly helpful.

When we took the kids in, I was not working much; my medical transcription job had been cut severely as doctors began to use voice recognition technology and did not need transcribers. I was down to an hour of work a day or so on that. I got some work doing freelance writing, but it took tons of time and brought me very little money.

A few months later, I went on an interview for a company my best friend worked for.  It is based out of our teeny tiny hometown, and I get to work from home still.  I do have a set schedule, though. The job is in customer support, so I answer phones, emails, and chats, and as we are a pretty small company, I wear a lot of other hats too; proofreader, trainer, organizer, spreadsheet maker and editor, special project manager, etc. Most days I really like my job.  Most customers are fine people, and my coworkers remain cooperative, funny, and amazing in many ways.

To train for the job, which requires me to do support for seven different websites we own, I had to be out of town for weeks.  I'd train for a week with one customer support rep, go home for the weekend, and then train the next week with a different person. I'd rotate back to the start when I had been to everyone's houses. It was difficult to get through, as we only had one van, which I had to take, and my husband was left with seven kids to take care of. Luckily, it was summer by this time and he didn't have to worry about getting them to school, but he did have to get to work five days a week and get them to appointments (when we took in the kids, their teeth were terrible and each one needed at least three visits to pull teeth, fill cavities, etc). My in-laws were instrumental and we could not have done it without them. They babysat, took my husband to work, and helped deal with an outbreak of lice that lasted for months because I simply did not have time to comb through seven heads every night.

It wasn't long after the kids moved in that their mom went to Georgia. I am still not sure why she went, but she rode along with some friends and eventually they left her there, and she's been there ever since, no ID, no car, no possessions.

We organized our large basement so that the younger kids were on one side and the older on the other side.  As they got older, we divided them with boys on one side and girls on the other side.  the basement is sort of separated by the stairway, so they have their own spaces, sort of.

We made do. Eventually, with my job, we stopped getting food stamps. The kids are still all on Medicaid, thankfully. It is still difficult to feed the kids on our budget, but I menu plan and we do go to Family Services when we need to, such as now, right after the holidays. You never know what you're going to get from them; one time we got an entire cheesecake. Usually we get a lot of cube steak, but one time we got sirloin and New York steaks. One year my father in law was able to get a buffalo permit from the tribe and both he and my husband got a buffalo. That fed us for a whole winter and boy did I get spoiled on buffalo burger; it's quite a bit tastier than beef. We just had to pay for the processing of the meat.

The help we get has slowed down, but the school still asks us sometimes if we need snow boots, if we need help paying for instrument rentals, etc.We are still grateful. We are still a family. We are still very, very, lucky.

And if I had a bugle i would blow it

Many of you know that for a couple of months now my husband and I have had seven kids. Our two nieces and two nephews have been staying with us since just before St. Patrick’s Day.  It’s family business, but suffice it to say their mom, my sister-in-law, is homeless and unable to care for them at this point.  There is no one else who could care for them right now, so we took them in.  I grew up in a house where I was told repeatedly “If you get pregnant don’t expect any help from me,” so I sort of came out of that with an unwillingness to help others in these situations.  But that all changed when I had children and nieces and nephews started popping out all over the place. I fell in love with those kids, all eight of them, so when four of them needed a stable place to live, there wasn’t really a choice. Of course they were going to stay with us.

            We absolutely do not have the money to afford four more kids on top of our three, but at least we have room for them. For a whole month they were living in a seedy hotel with ten people, so just having room to play or sit quietly and do homework is pretty awesome for them. We have a full basement, and it’s partially finished. That’s where the kids stay, on a set of bunk beds and a queen-size bed. We could use a couple more dressers and some major organizational supplies (especially for their shoes! My god, the shoes!!!), but otherwise they fit here just fine.

            Where I’ve been so pleasantly surprised is by everyone in our community. When people find out we’ve taken in these kids, they have surprised us over and over with generosity. A woman from the church my kids attend gave us a queen-sized bed. My brother-in-law and his girlfriend brought us a car full of groceries. My mom made little Easter baskets for seven kids instead of three. I talked to their school counselor, and told her where we were really having trouble was feeding the kids, so she hooked us up with the “Lunch in a Backpack” thing. That helped, but we were still struggling to feed these kids, all ages 5 to 10, who seem to be hungry at every moment of their waking hours. So I applied for food stamps, and we were approved for $608 a month. That’s about $150 a week, and all of us are so grateful.

            One evening when the kids were playing outside, a woman who knows their grandpa stopped by and gave us a nearly full platter of Subway Sandwiches, which was perfect timing as they hadn’t had much for snacks all day and I didn’t have any idea what I would be able to put together for dinner.

            The school system also hooked my nieces and nephews up with clothes! They sent three bags of clothes, some old and some new, including shoes, underwear, and socks. My eldest niece got three really beautiful dresses, and they all felt so special with their new things.

            One day, a friend stopped by and gave us a couple of grocery bags of snack foods!

            We have just been amazed at how everyone we know has helped provide for these kids. It matters.  So, so much.

            I’ve taken to making a weekly menu now, and buying groceries once a week. I stock up on bananas, clementines, apples, and pears, and buy the ingredients for the dinners I’ve chosen. I keep ingredients to make our own cookies on hand. All of the kids, even mine, are starting to eat more vegetables and a wider variety of foods. We haven’t gone as healthy as I know we should, but we’re moving that way (the other day, they ALL ate salad!!  SALAD!!).  Our house is so full now! The hubby and I had just begun talking about having another baby when all this happened, but we absolutely cannot handle that now, and that’s OK. Being a presence in these kids’ lives is more important right now, for sure. 

            So even though none of the people who have helped us read this blog, we are grateful.  I will try my best to pay this forward.

 

P.S. Any study or blogger who says having three kids is as difficult as having 6, or 7, or 10, is HAHAHAHAHAHA WRONG. 

           

Pointing and Laughing

In “Well, no shit” news today, Florida’s lost a bunch of money drug-testing its welfare applicants over a 4-month period.  To the tune of over $45,000, lawmakers in Florida found out that not only did the number of applicants not go down, but only 2% of the tests were positive (most for marijuana use).  The state had to reimburse the applicants who passed, so the state ended up paying more for the testing than if the applicants had received benefits.  Which leads me to say:

HA, HA, TOLD YOU SO.  I FUCKIN TOLD YOU SO. 

Like I always say...FUCK OFF...er, I was right.

The Feminist Breeder shared a link yesterday about the failure of this program to prove…well, anything they wanted it to prove, that’s for sure.  Some of the comments on TFB’s facebook page were eye-rollers.  Some woman said “What’s harsh is when u go apply at the welfare office and in the parking lot u c brand new cars.  They don’t belong to the workers.  Its all the other people on welfare.”  How does one go about discovering this information?  Did this odd woman ask around in the office, applicants and employees alike, to identify the make, model, and year of their vehicles?  I’m pretty sure she wasn’t just talking out of her ass, you guys.  Probably.  You might say it’s none of this lady’s fucking business who drives what, when they got it, how much they paid for it, etc. 

But!  Drug testing is not unfair to poor people, and it’s not discrimination, as some other person points out smartly. 

It’s not discrimination when you are asking tax payers and the government to financially support you.  Just because someone passes a drug test does not mean they are drug free.  I know tons of people who have collected their child’s urine in order to pass a test.  Many people slip through the cracks.  Millions.

Listen, she knows thousands of pounds’ worth of people who use their child’s urine to pass a piss test.  Who knows how many people that is!  Though if they’re poor, they must be fat, amirite, commenter?  All those munchies from the weed and the crap food they buy with their food stamps, you know. 

And don’t dare question her, because this chick knows what she’s talking about.  “Millions is an accurate statement.  Millions of welfare receivers nationwide are on drugs and use the free money for illegal purposes.  Also online reports can be biased and missing key information.  Just because it’s on the Internet doesn’t make it true.”  Except what she just said.  That’s true. 

Besides, this happened to another commenter: 

This is a tough one for me…i was at the grocery store recently and the couple behind me smelled of pot so badly that my nose burned.  When they paid for their groceries, they paid with a welfare debit card.  Im all for helping the truly needy, but if u can afford to buy pot, I don’t need to buy your groceries.

A commenter who WASN’T an asshole pointed out that that commenter does not know that the couple bought the weed.  Stoners, as she pointed out, are notoriously generous.  Maybe someone gave them a bud.  Maybe they grow their own.  Either way, though, who gives a shit.  It’s not commenter X’s job to police the welfare recipients.  NOR IS SHE PAYING FOR ANYONE’S GROCERIES.  Not really, not any more than I’m paying for her roads and for her local fire department.  So STFU already with the whining, “I shouldn’t have to pay for that,” because you DON’T. 

Of course people on welfare use drugs—some of them.  Just like some congresspeople.  Just like some ranchers.  Just like some teachers.  Just like some internet commenters.  Just like some line cooks.  Just like some restaurant owners.  Just like some of every group everywhere ever.  Folks on public assistance don’t have the market cornered on drug use and government fraud.  So lay the fuck off.  And can I just say it one more time?

TOLD YOU SO.  TOLD YOU SO.  TOOOOOOOOOOLD YOU SOOOO. 

My welfare is different

 The other day I was working at my medical transcription, typing typing typing away, when I got distracted by the Facebook.  Specifically, by a conversation started by a family member—a cousin by marriage.  In my tiny hometown in Montana, I’m related either directly or by marriage to juuuust about everyone.  But anyway, that’s neither here nor there.  The conversation, or what can be better described as a confusing and frightening narrative, started off thusly:

No food for you!

 "I was n store other day an a ma n pa n kid in buyn carton of cigs 2gal coke n rentn movies! Odd thng is they wur talkn 2 man bout needn food frm food bank an cuz they had already ben there ths mnth. The man askd if they had any cash? Nope pay day is nx week was there anser! Now they had money 4 pop movies n cigs tho! Heres the kicker... Payday as they cald it is actualy wen they get their welfare an disablity n food stamps.  Now it was all i cud do 2 get out the door wthout getn throd in jail!!"

Wow.  He was so upset, he almost got throd in jail, y’all.  Let’s ignore the terrible spelling, if we can, because I really don’t want to say that my cousin is stupid. Because I have no idea if he is.  But smart people are bad spellers too, so I’m not gonna jump on his ass too much about that.  Plus, he was probably updating from his phone, right there at the store.  Or perhaps he was so upset that he had to wait until he got to his pickup truck to clumsily and angrily tap his message. I mean, how upset do you have to be to almost get throd in jail?  I’d bet pretty upset. 

From there, my own brother decided to jump in.  My brother is super smart and quick-witted.  He’s also kind of a dick.  Here’s the rest of the conversation, salted heavily with my own pissed off outbursts.  Oh, and I’m giving them all fun pseudonyms.  So the starting comment was Cousin Elmer. 

Brother Buck:  Good thing YOU were going to work.  Somebody has to pay for these losers’ cigs and movies and food stamps.  By the way, I think jail time would’ve been totally worth it.

For the past seven years my family and I have utilized WIC, food stamps, and Medicaid. Now, I’m no Geometry genius, but I think that his equation is insulting to me.  Wait....yep, yep it is. 

People who use food stamps = losers. 

I have used food stamps. 

I = loser. 

Got it.  My brother thinks I’m a loser.  I’m feeling like ranting, but first, let’s keep listening as this unfolds:

Cousin Bocephus:  I’m with (brother Buck).  Should have asked him if he’d ever tryed suckin on a cig with a split lip.

Cousin Marcia May:  and they VOTE, too.  (angry face)

Brother Buck:  of COURSE they vote.  Can you say Obama?

Cousin Elmer:  u wnd bleve these peopl.  Peopl took food an clothes 4 kids 4 chrsmas...The man tels people he needs shoes n pants also. Wthout so much as a thnkyou!  Oh an house smokd up with leftys an one of kids has asthma! Berta may jus have a runaway! Wups

Hey, he knows what a lefty is?!   Huh.  Other than that, I'm confused.  Who is Berta?  Is she a ewe?  a cow?  A person? Where was Elmer that he heard this awful man expressing his need for shoes and pants, without properly prostrating himself before Elmer?  How does Elmer know the kid has asthma?  But let’s move on, because it gets sooooo much better.  And by better, I mean worse.  Way worse. 

Elmer:  Harry Schmerg postd 2day that iges 4 states drug tst b4 welfare! Shud b all 50 butgood that 4 do now

Buck:  I’ve heard the argument that drug testing welfare recipients is unconstitutional (mostly from people on welfare) If that is the case, then drug testing people who actually want to work for a living is obviously unconstitutional as well.

Elmer:  I thnk that habitual welfare tards shud hav to wear similar outfits like convicts and actualy go bak 2 real foodstamps nstead of debit cards and gther n the mornin so real wrkn folk cn come pk em up and make them wrk 4 their wlfare!  Does that make me an ass?

See, he’s not stupid, he can spell and use “habitual” correctly!  Um, but yeah, Elmer, it certainly DOES make you an ass.  Well, I was thinking assHOLE, but yeah.  Pretty much.   I’m feeling super ranty...must hold off...a bit longer...

Bocephus:  here’s an idea, you always hear of people saying “I’m on welfare ‘cause there ain’t no jobs,” but there seems to be a never ending supply of community service projects.  If you sign up for welfare, welcome to the wonderful world of community service.  Since community is taking care of you, why not pitch in and take care of community.  Mow a lawn, trim a tree, serve lunch at senior center, at least then I won’t feel like my money is being wasted. 

Bocephus, again:  My JOB is right across the street from the food bank.  Once a month I witness droves of brand new vehicles with $5000 wheel and tire packages and $3000 stereos picking up boxes of donated food.  When I go to the grocery store, I end up in line behind the same people and witness them buying five carts full and paying with there foodstamps. 

Hmmm. Cousin Bocephus certainly spends a lot of time watching the people across the street—I mean, he knows them so well he recognizes them in the grocery store.  Does his boss know about this? 

Marcia May:  don’t know if I’d go so far as a “welfare uniform” Grud LOL but I DO think the baloney move to “save the self esteem” of those using food stamps is totally counter-productive.  You shouldn’t be usin’ em unless you NEED em and if you NEED em then there’s no shame in using em.  I would be ALL for the expectation of completing community service appropriate to the needs/abilities of the individual (wait...that sounds kind of like a JOB, right)...think that would thin the herd QUITE a bit...if people are going to be compelled work, they might just get the hang of it and figure it adventageous to pursue a job where they get paid in more than government cheese...also not opposed to the idea of compelling birth control...if you’re having trouble feeding the ones you got, you probably shouldn’t have any MORE right now



from ejmassa.com



Wait.  Wait.  My partner had some input here.  “What?!  She’s dissin on my government cheese?!  What the fuck’s she know about government cheese?”  My partner spent a lot of years on the Crow and Northern Cheyenne reservations, and he knows from government cheese.  I’m pretty sure my cousin does not know from government cheese.  When my partner (I’m gonna call him High Hawk since we’re all about pseudonyms here—but that’s actually his Native name) and I moved in together, his parents gave us some food, and among that was a box of government mac and cheese.  I cooked it up while High Hawk was at work.  I couldn’t eat it.  The cheese’s texture was something between milk and snot, it stuck to your mouth and filmed up your teeth.  High Hawk came home and ate a huge bowl of it.  Marcia May is, of course, using the term’s derogatory sense, an idea more than an actual block of hard cheese. A metaphor, even.  Marcia goes on to declare that if she was in a desperate situation, she’d be happy to comply with all of this.  Not only would she comply, she’d be “dadgum grateful to do it.”  Ooooookaay. Not buyin that shit for a second.  Walk a mile, lady, you know the saying.

Finally, Elmer declares that he has never gone more than six days without a job, ever.  So:

Elmer has never had trouble finding a job =

You and Elmer are both humans =

You have never had trouble finding a job

I’m getting super good at this math thing, I think. 

Now, I get to rant.  

Oops!  Wrong finger.



It is NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS what I buy with my food stamps.  Fuck you for thinking you get to dictate what someone buys with their food stamps.  THEIR food stamps.  Not yours.  I don’t give a shit if you pay taxes for my food stamps.  I pay taxes for your firefighters and your police officers.  I pay for your kids’ schooling.  I pay for your farm subsidies, you know, welfare for farmers.  Yep, looked it up, and Elmer is on the welfare too.  In fact, a lot of my relatives are farmers who received subsidies, and a lot of them rail against welfare and the lazy bums who accept it. 

My brother, Buck?  Declared bankruptcy a few years back.  I’ve been there too, after I got divorced about a decade ago.  But isn’t bankruptcy a bailout by the government?  Isn’t bankruptcy another form of welfare? 

So my family’s probably not really against welfare.  They’re just against my welfare and your welfare.  Theirs is different.  They are different. 

Not long ago I had a pretty decent Facebook convo with Bocephus about guns.  I asked him what he thought about being able to carry a concealed weapon into a bar.  Bocephus has a concealed carry permit or whatever, and he’s taken training, and he’s a responsible gun owner.  I’m not against guns.  If I thought I could have one in the house without it being a danger to my kids and also being able to get to it in time, I would.  My cousin Bocephus said he personally would never consider bringing his concealed weapon anywhere if he even thought he was going to drink, and he thought most gun owners were the same way.  I had to admit to myself that I’d never really thought that most gun owners might be responsible like he is.  Instead I thought of the worst case scenario.  So I told my cousin that maybe I was wrong about that, and that if most gun owners thought and acted like he did, we were in good shape.

And yet my cousins and my brother all fail to recognize that a LOT of people on welfare DO have jobs.  I actually am not on the welfare right now.  I graduated!  But like I said, for almost seven years I’ve needed help.  For all of those seven years, I worked full-time.  High Hawk worked, too.  I still needed help.  That’s what they don’t get—a lot of us are working as hard as we can, as much as we can, when we can.  And “there ain’t no jobs” is the fucking truth—more for some populations than others, obviously.  There are always some who will abuse the system, like the farmers who got paid to grow things they actually didn’t grow, and so the government had to start flying over to make sure welfare fraud was not being committed.  Like those who knowingly and foolishly take on too much debt and have to declare bankruptcy. 

And finally.  Even if you weren’t getting handouts too, pals, and even if I wasn’t working, you still don’t get to be supreme commander of purchases.  If I want to buy a bag of chips and ice cream for dinner, FUCK YOU.  I’m having Doritos and mint chocolate chip.  The reality is, you aren’t paying for welfare anymore than anyone’s paying for your handouts and everything else that taxes go to.

So fuck your segregation and forced birth control (I’m pretty sure sterilization of the poor would have made its way into the conversation if it would have gone on).  I hope someone follows you around and catalogues your purchases and activities and looks down their nose at you and judges you and then rants about subsidies and bankruptcy…and hypocrisy.