Kay Bruin's Blog

I’d be lying if I said I was one of those moms that had it all together. That is the absolute furthest from the truth. My biggest struggle is my youngest son. Not for any other reason than pure worry. He’s a fantastic kid. He has the most amazing personality and he can bring smiles and joy to the saddest person. He’s so funny. He knows exactly who he is, and nobody can influence what he wants or feels if he’s made up his mind. He’s talented too. He has a way with numbers. He’s not always right, but most of the time, if someone tells him their birthday and birth year, he can tell them what day they were born on and sometimes what day their birthday will fall on in the current year. He is 8 years old and a math wizard, multiplication and division included. He makes up the funniest raps, and plays the piano. He’s a self secure, happy, kind, full of life child. That’s every mother’s dream, right?
I may have left out that he’s a shaken baby survivor. He also had two skull fractures and detached retina, from being thrown on the floor. I also left out that he was born my nephew. My husband and I adopted him when he was two and we’ve been guardians since he was 6 weeks old (the time of hospitalization after the abuse). We’ve been told that there was permanent brain damage that affects his impulse control and his emotions (both of which we’ve struggled with immensely).
His neurologist recently told us that it was time he had a a psychiatric evaluation. We’ve been told that he may be on the spectrum side, which doesn’t really come as a shock, but it does hurt me. He’s doing another evaluation in September and I’m really stressing about it. Any news won’t change things. I just...I don’t know...I guess I feel like I’ve convinced myself that he’s just behind, and any other news is going to make me feel like a failure.
Doctor after doctor, therapist after therapist, technique after technique. I feel like I’m doing everything right, but it’s not good enough. I know that I’m overthinking this, but I hate feeling like I have no control.
Any other moms with input or advice, I would so love to hear from. I feel alone sometimes. I’ve joined support groups and taken parenting classes, but I can’t seem to feel comfortable with any of it.

I’m was so excited to read this review 🥰

https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/vie...

I have three children. Their ages are 8, 10, and 14. They are all screen addicts. We have screen time limits, but it's always on their minds. One problem we've come across is YouTube. My two youngest are obsessed with the idea of having a YouTube channel. My youngest son loves to rap, and he's actually pretty good, not to mention adorable. So many people have told me to put him on YouTube. I must admit, there are times when I try to convince myself to do so. My middle child is the planner/coordinator. He's a thinker. He loves to think of things they could put on YouTube. My oldest is a singer.
I've put some thought into this, and I've considered letting them do this, as long as they do it together, and I see every video for approval, before it's published. I'm still very nervous about it though. My kids are the most important people in my life and I don't like the idea of making them available to the public, so to speak. Child predators always come up with new ways to prey. Maybe I'm just overthinking all of it.

What I wouldn't give to feel the passion you once had.
If only I could see a hint of the spirit you once showed.
My heart aches for you, but you can't see it.
What part have I played in the loss of your love.
I've cried until my tears ran dry, and now I sit in a dark and cold lovers purgatory.
Day after day I hold my head high, while falling apart inside.
Just when I think I hear affection in your voice again, you pull away and break my heart.
Is there no more happiness that I can bring to you.
Why won't you let me feel you?

I want to express my immense gratitude to my fans and all readers. I hope that you all have the chance to read my work. I want everyone to know that there will be much more to come and definitely more giveaways. I welcome everyone and all reviews.
If you visit Jane Doe https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NVXMK1X/... you can download my book Jane Doe and please keep checking in for discounts and free promotions.
Again, thank you to everyone!

https://www.dropbox.com/s/s2odujg5oxr...

I’m the kind of person who likes to stay in my comfort zone, so this is a big share for me.
In 1999 (age 12) my mother abandoned me.
Through 2001 I was neglected, abused, starved, etc.
In 2005 my daughter was born (one of the happiest days of my life) and 6 months later I had a stroke due to a malformation on my brain stem.
2007 divorced my cheating husband.
2008 married the man of my dreams.
2009 my first son was born.
2010 adopted my youngest son (he’s also a shaken baby survivor. The abuser was his biological mother, my younger sister.)
2012 our home was destroyed in a tornado.
2013 my youngest son was diagnosed with hydrocephalus and admitted for brain surgery.
2016 my daughters biological dad was thrown in prison (Also the year that my husband adopted her. It was a tough year, with a blessing thrown in.)
2019 my husband broke his neck in a car accident (he survived and is on the mend). I also released my first novel this year.

What a crazy exhausting life I’ve lived, and it’s not even close to over. No matter how crazy things get, I’d never do anything different. Being where I am with my husband and my children is worth everything to me.

Here's a sneak peek of my sci-fi novel that I'm currently working on.

“What the hell Mercy?” Zayne yelled as he began to chase after Darren. I followed, hoping and praying that Darren escaped. More than I hoped for Darren’s escape, I hoped that Zayne could forgive me for allowing it. As Zayne ran out the front door, I sat on the sleeping bags, pulled my knees to my chest, and imagined all of us living in peace. Maybe I was naïve, but I still believed that at some point, it might’ve been possible, to benefit from one of the other’s existence. For so long, I hoped for survivors. I hoped to find many, not just some. My heart ached, because we were against one another.

I’ll switch to humor for a moment. I have the worst luck. I’ll get into other reasons later, but here’s the latest proof.
My 14-year-old daughter and I went for a run. We got about a mile down the road before this random truck came speeding toward us from the road ahead.
“A wild bull!” A man yelled from the window.
“A white bull!?!” I yelled back. “That’s pretty.” I said to my daughter, obviously not hearing the man correctly.
“No mom,” she said. “A wild bull.”
My jaw dropped in shock as I looked ahead trying to see what was coming. I didn’t see anything, but the man warned that we should turn back, so we did.
A few minutes after starting the run back, the man caught up to us stopping his truck in front of us.
“There’s no time!” He yelled. “Hop in!” I opened the back door to do as he said and there were car seats and all kinds of things filling up the back. I looked behind us trying to think of what to do and I made eye contact with this bull charging toward us. I panicked and stuck my daughter between me and the seat. I shut my eyes tight, as I leaned trying to shield her.
Luckily the bull ran right past the truck. We thanked the man and let him go on his way and we continued to run home. We get to a point where we can see our house and we watch as the boy starts up our driveway. We just stopped and stared at one another. They eventually got him off our property and into a trailer to take him where he needed to be, but I think that is a pretty solid look into our luck. Lol

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, all of my emotions would just pour out on paper. It was mostly poetry back then. I was never brave enough to share my work on a regular basis. One day my class got an assignment to write a poem to be submitted for publication in a young writers book. I ended up being published. I was only in the fourth grade, but I like to think that experience is what made me want to write professionally. I used to have a copy of the book, but after my mom left and I had to move around I ended up losing it. I can’t even recall the name of the book or the poem I wrote because I’ve blocked out so much of my younger days.
That same embarrassment and hesitation happened with “Jane Doe”. I tried so hard, but I wasn’t brave enough to put it out there. I had been working on it for three years, before my husband convinced me that I was more than capable of writing something other people would want to read. With his encouragement and my three children cheering me on, I was able to push past my fear of rejection, and I couldn’t be prouder.