Tag Archives: children who lie to therapists

Bread and Circuses

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her current husband, Tyler Buchheim live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, works as a teaching assistant for Southern Methodist University in Dallas, and   Emma works leasing swanky apartments in Frisco.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Bread and Circuses

(So I started writing my thoughts just after the Ford Blasey/Kavanaugh hearing, and I re-wrote and edited after the whole thing was over.  Of course, any time I hear about possible false allegations, I think of Emma, and the mistakes we made with her, so here’s what I wrote.)

Good grief! The past couple of weeks have been a circus if you’ve been watching the news. Our politicians should be ashamed of themselves for allowing this spectacle of a show. Do I know what or if anything happened between now supreme court judge Brett Kavanaugh and Dr. Christine Blasey Ford? No, I have no idea. I wasn’t there. Do I think accusers of sexual assault should be heard? Of course I do. What disgusts me is how our politicians used this story, and I think used Dr. Blasey Ford to further their agenda rather than handling the accusation appropriately. And of course, this story makes me rethink Emma’s accusing the priest of molestation, and about the mistakes we made in handling her accusation. I also have to wonder, since Emma was such a staunch conservative (or as her dad liked to say, “Emma is to the right of right.” if Emma came up with the priest who turned politician because of his being a democrat and running for office. Maybe Emma wanted to stop his political career. Did Emma even know he was running for office? It’s possible since she spent so much time on the computer, she might have looked him up. Or was he just a safe target since he was no longer at our church and Emma was pulling a name out of her sorting hat. Maybe one day Emma will tell us why she chose to falsely accuse the man, but right now, I have some thoughts on the whole Blasey Ford/Kavanaugh thing oh, and on Emma too.

The morning of the Christine Blasey Ford/Brett Kavanaugh hearing, I stopped to have coffee with my neighbors, and I remember, when they brought up the hearing, distinctly telling them that I was NOT going to watch the hearing, and would just wait to hear about it afterwards. LIE. Ok, not really a lie. I wasn’t going to watch it. It was something that I had no control over, and it just seemed pointless to devote my attention to it, so I planned on not watching it, but when it came down to it, it was my day off from work, and I was tired and I didn’t feel like doing much, and it happened to be on one of the three tv channels that I am able to pick up with my antenna, so I put it on the tube. I really didn’t intend on watching it, but I picked up a project I was working on and spent most of the day working on my project and listening, with the exception of a 45 minute bike ride in the middle of the day.

My first thought concerning the hearing was that no matter what happens, there are two sides and one side is never going to be happy with the outcome of whatever may happen. Ain’t that the truth!

Afterwards, I was glad I watched because it made me think, and it made me reflect on a lot of things that went on with Emma that Phill and I missed with her molestation story.

I’m not going to sit here and analyze the hearing. There are plenty of political pundits who can do a much better job than I can on that issue, but I think I have a unique perspective on the hearing seeing that I was a) a victim a sexual assault, b) the mother of a child who falsely accused a man of sexual assualt, and, c) I, myself, was falsely accused of abuse by my daughter.

Having been a victim myself, and having known many women who were also victims, when I hear someone make an accusation of sexual abuse, my first thought is that I want to hear what the victim has to say, and I want to believe them. After all, who would make that kind of thing up besides my daughter. Turns out lots of women do.

In the case of Christine Blasey Ford, first off, there was her little girl voice, her frightened demeanor and disheveled appearance. I found that to be odd. As to the voice, I have known probably 2 people of the course of my life who had that high pitched child-like voice, and I figured if she was faking her voice, that would come out sooner or later because enough people would know if she really talked like that or not, so I was willing to believe it was her real voice, but being a professional woman, I was having a hard time with the scared little girl act. If the woman is a PhD that would mean she would have had to “defend” a dissertation, and from what I’ve heard, “defend” is a good description of the process, and not something that you enter into meekly. I would think Dr. Blasey Ford, having been a professional for many years, would have been able to speak to a group of senators a bit more professionally than she did.

I was also disturbed by the whole “airplane” story, and it seems like Dr. Blasey Ford told a whopper of a lie when she said she was afraid of confined spaces. She has no trouble flying for vacations to exotic locations, so I’m not buying that one at all.

Later on, I found out that Leland Keyser, who Dr. BF stated could validate her story, not only couldn’t validate her story, but also had no idea what was coming until she woke up one morning to find her name all over the news. If you were going to be testifying and bringing up the name of a witness, wouldn’t you at least have the courtesy to tell that person that you were including them in your testimony? Especially if it was a “lifelong friend?” Hmmm. Odd.

I listened to the questioning, and I had only more questions, and I sat there wondering, “Why didn’t they ask this, this, and this….” and I was shocked and disappointed in the hearing. I thought the treatment should have been more professional than it was. I say senators telling Ms. Blasey Ford how amazing her education creditials were and how credible she sounded, but I was thinking to myself, “Why didn’t you ask her da,da,da…………..!” I had a lot of questions.

When Brett Kavanaugh was in the hot seat, I saw him asked over and over again about blacking out and not remembering what he might have done, but when Christine Blasey Ford was answering questions and couldn’t answer the simplest questions about the night of the assault, they didn’t pound her about if she could have blacked out. Too many of the questioning senators did not seem interested in getting to the facts, and I had to wonder if they were just trying to get in a sound bite for their next campaign.

Did I find Dr. Blasey Ford belivable? Yes, she certainly could have been a victim of something. I know several people who are all, “I believe Christine Blasey Ford” no matter what, and think the accusation should have been enough to keep judge Kavanaugh off the supreme court. So now, we just convict people without proof? For me, with all the inconsistencies and changing her story, I just can’t buy it. Is Dr. Blasey Ford an attention seeker? Is she mentally ill? Is she misremembering perhaps some other incident where she was molested? Is she a die hard leftist who just wanted to disrupt the process? I have no idea. I just think something is not right and that unless there is some kind of proof that Judge Kavanaugh did any of the horrible things he was accused of, he was entitled to be voted on. Something I also wondered about was when people were coming out of the woodwork to vouch for Judge Kavanaugh, people who’d known him in college, in high school, through work, etc., I didn’t see the same with Dr. Blasey Ford. I saw lots of protesters and hollywood types who’d never met either Dr. Blasey Ford or Judge Kavanaugh, claim they believed Dr. Blasey Ford, but I didn’t see her coworkers, old classmates, or even family coming forward to vouch for her. Now, I work full time, have a home to take care of, and volunteer in my spare time, so I don’t live and breathe the news, and I guess it’s possible I missed it.

I have heard people talk about how Brett Kavanaugh acted during his interview, how he cried and got angry and defensive and showed all this emotion unbecoming to a supreme court judge, but on that, I do have something to say. I understand completely, Judge Kavanaugh! I understand, completely.

metoo

I keep jokingly saying to myself, “Emma Blasey Ford.”  I was pretty open minded before the hearing, but I have to say I’ve heard too many discrepancies, and I honestly do not believe Dr. Blasey Ford at all.  My mind could be changed with more evidence, but an accusation is not enough to destroy a man’s career.  

With several years under my belt, I am calm and I will be happy to answer any question you may have about Emma and her accusation of abuse. Fire away. Ask me anything. When my life went to hell in Emma’s hand basket, I had gone from a quiet/boring routine family life to Emmaland Crazy. (Phill had, since Emma was about age of 9 or 10 called Emma our little Drama Queen—-oh how prophetic he turned out to be!) Phill and I had always joked about how we liked our quiet boring life. Anytime we heard about someone going though some kind of crazy drama, we always talked about how we like our quiet boring life.

I feel like I can understand how Judge Kavanaugh must have felt, because it sounds like he was a family guy who worked and did all the routine family things, and all of a sudden his life, like mine, was turned upside down and he was accused of sexual assault, and then it gotten even crazier with Julie Swetnik accusing him of organizing gang rapes… Not only was he attacked, but his wife and children were attacked. I felt the same way. I was attacked, and my family was destroyed. At the time, I was upset, hurt, scared, emotional, angry, defensive…. If someone had interviewed me after Emma’s crazy accusations, it would probably not have been pretty. Now, I don’t mind talking about it, and I can even joke about it. The other day at work, I was on a rolling computer which was plugged in, and my coworker thought I didn’t notice it was plugged in, and said, “Wait………..you’re attached!” and I laughed and said, “No, I’m not silly, I’m divorced.” It may have taken me several years to get to this point, but I can joke about it now. (I grew up in a family that didn’t believe in divorce, and I always thought Phill and I had a strong marriage.) Going though it was hell, but being on the other side now, I can even laugh about some of the craziness.

So, as far as Judge Kavanaugh’s opening statement, and some people think it was too emotional, too angry, or whatever. I completely understand how Judge Kavanaugh must have felt. If he is innocent, he went from mudane and routine to a madhouse over a couple of weeks, and I don’t think most of use would handle it well. You attack the man and his family, and he’s going to be upset. I also heard something I found interesting, and that was the difference between Brett Kavanaugh and Judge Kavanaugh. Brett Kavanaugh was protecting and defending his family. Judge Kavanaugh will be the contitutionalist who, although it’s been a million years since 12th grade Government class and college Political Science, will be making decisions for our country based on the constitution.

So, listening to some of the questioning, and how the senators were NOT questioning Dr. Blasey Ford, got me to thinking about how that was a mistake that Phill and I made. My poor baby Emma was so traumatized by accusing a priest of molestation and by having to talk to the police and the church, and DFACS, etc. that I did not push her to talk about it, and I should have. I wanted to get Emma into therapy where she could talk to someone who could better deal with her issues. I didn’t feel qualified. I should have been questioning Emma and pushing for dates. Even if Emma couldn’t remember dates, she should have been able to tell give me some idea of the times she was assaulted (if you have not read all of the blog, Emma claimed the priest stuck his fingers into her vagina on several different occasions). It could have been something as simple as the day we took the youth group bowling, or the day after the camp-out at church, or the Sunday after Jordan’s birthday party………… you get the idea. Since, at the time, I believed Emma, I should have gotten details to better prove her case, but I didn’t because I didn’t want to stress her out by making her talk about the whole ordeal. Dumb sap that I am, I just wanted to protect my baby and didn’t want to make things any more stressful for her.

Something else I’ve been thinking about since the whole Blasey Ford/Kavanaugh thing is the “what ifs.” What is a psychopath got another psychopath to go along with her, say, to accuse a priest of molestation. It’s probably a good think Emma’s only friends were on line. Or a psychopath who hated her algebra teacher got another nut job to go along with her, and they rehearsed and got their stories together to send an innocent man to jail. What if a couple of young women had a vendetta against a boy they knew in highschool and they remembered being at the same event with him and decided to make up a story to ruin his life. Or, a couple of psychopaths who went to school with a boy many years ago who was running for office and they were rooting for his opponent. It is a scary world.

Do I know what or if anything happened between Dr. Christine Blasey Ford and Judge Brett Kavanaugh. No. Like everyone else, I’ve formed my own opinions after watching the hearing and I have not heard enough to make me think Dr. Blasey Ford’s accusations could be true, and in this county, we don’t punish someone one for a crime when there is no evidence.

One think I miss is talking current events with Emma. As a teen, Emma had all the answers, but she is almost 25 now, and with a little more education and life experience under her belt, I would love to hear her thoughts on this now finished business. As both a conservative, and a (ahem… cough, cough.) “vicitm,” I’m sure Emma had a lot to say.

Oh, and just a note to Emma: I’m sorry to you and Tyler that I missed your anniversary. I was on vacation during Florence, and came home to no internet for a week, but know I was thinking of you both that Sept. 19th. Three years!  So, with Tyler working on his Master’s, are you back in school, too?  Miss you, Emma, the girl who would be me!

The Police Dog Meme

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her current husband, Tyler Buchheim live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, works as a teaching assistant for Southern Methodist University in Dallas, and   Emma works leasing swanky apartments in Frisco.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

 

Just a couple of light thoughts today.

Police Dog

Ok, so I kept seeing this meme pop up, and I liked it but did not save it, so when I tried to go back and find it, I couldn’t. Darn! So……….. I just made my own. For someone who’s not too computer savy (and sadly had a husband who kept telling me I didn’t need to know how to do things because he would always be there to help me), I’m pretty pleased with myself for mastering the meme generator! I like this one better than the one I saw earlier.

Anyway, if you know the history of Emma, one of her better lies, er stories, was the one about being searched by a drug dog in high school. Emma claimed that a boy, JB, who lived in our neighborhood and rode the school bus with Emma, had a grudge against Emma’s “friend” C. (later Emma called her an “acquaintance” rather than a friend), so he turned the group of them in, claiming they had drugs on the bus……………… Emma went on to say that she got called out of class to be searched by a drug dog, and told the officer how she volunteered with a rescue………… It was a GREAT story, and Emma put so much detail into it, that it’s a shame it wasn’t true. (But her dad doesn’t think she has a lying problem.) To tell such a great story, I’m wondering did Emma rehearse it, or to good liars just work on the fly?

The other thing I wanted to share with Emma was a gift for Tyler, the Good Architect. I saw these and thought they were so cute for the Leggo enthusiast! (or appropriate for a Bob the Builder like Tyler!) So, Emma, there’s a Christmas idea for you, or you can get Tyler one and tell him it’s from me!

Leggo Mug

Love,

Maze

Emma’s Moral COMPASS

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her current husband, Tyler Buchheim live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, works for Southern Methodist University in Dallas, and   Emma works leasing swanky apartments in Frisco.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Emma’s Moral COMPASS  (Ok, so the title is a little play on words there.)

I recently, I had one of those Facebook “You Memories” come up from 2010, and here it is:

Emma compas

During this time, we were trying to figure out what we were doing with Emma and her education. She’d become a most uncooperative homeschooler. She hated Jackson County Comprehensive High School which she had started in 9th grade and then halfway through the year was vomiting and missing so much school that she had to finish 9th grade on line and then did 10th grade on line, and that seemed to make her even more isolated. It was during 10th grade that Emma made up the story about being molested by the priest. I think she was mostly on line chatting rather than doing school work, but in any event, on line school did not seem the right choice for a young lady who was already seemed to spend too much time alone. Emma was interested in going to college at Pensacola Christian College. She liked the idea of the strictness of it and how it promoted modesty and purity. Girls were not permitted to wear slacks, but had to wear dresses and stockings, and I think there was a rule about how boys and girls couldn’t walk together unless they were in a group. During this time, Emma was very paranoid about her “molester” seeking revenge or retribution on her, so she really liked the idea of a closed campus and felt she would be safe there. PCC sounded great on some levels, but I was concerned because it wasn’t an accredited school, so I was trying to talk to people and read about how this could affect Emma should we choose to send her there. I had a friend who’s daughter graduated there as a teacher, but could only teach in private schools, not public, and I didn’t like the idea of Emma being limited in her career should she go there. We also had some neighbors whose daughter went to PCC and found it too strict and confining.

I don’t remember how we started looking into Gwinnett Tech, but I think someone had suggested it. I did some research, and looked at their programs. At the time, Emma was interested in nursing, and she could have gone there and gotten a 2 year degree, although it probably would have taken 3 years, taken state boards, and earned her RN. Emma and I had a lot of conversations about this, and I remember us talking about travel nursing. I had told her it would be a way to see the country and being young and single, if that was what she thought she wanted, it would be a good time in her life to do that. She could use her dad and I as her home base and take assignments wherever she wanted to go. For a while, Emma was pretty interested in that idea. We decided, or I guess I decided, to let Emma take the COMPASS, the college placement test.

Of course, if you know the impulsive nature of teenagers, Emma was jumping on this idea of starting college at 16 and planning her future, while I was telling her to slow down and it was something we were looking into, but nothing was definite. Emma didn’t seem to hear me at all and was full steam ahead with her plans for college. I, on the other hand, was researching the pros and cons of starting college without ever obtaining a high school diploma. Should Emma get a GED? How do we make that jump from high school to college without a diploma. Would it hurt her in the future to not have graduated high school?

Another thing I was concerned about was throwing a 16 year old in with a bunch of 18 and older college students. This was all during the time that we believed Emma had been molested, before I started researching and discovering what a liar my daughter was about pretty much everything and everybody. We were still dealing with the make believe trauma of Emma’s supposed molestation, and I felt we needed to get through that before we threw her into the college setting.

Emma, who liked to say, “I have Google in my head.” was definitely a smart child, and I was so proud of her smarts. I knew, she could be whatever she wanted to be in life with that little brain of hers, but did she have the maturity needed for college? I’d known her dad when he was in college and he refused to put effort into classes that he thought were a waste of time, and thus he never finished college. What if Emma was the same way? How would Emma handle the drinking and partying crowd in college? I’d been hoping to see signs of maturity in Emma. I was hoping that she would show us that she could be responsible in other areas so that we could feel like she was responsible enough to get her driver’s license (although Phill still wanted her to wait until she was 18 to do that) and maybe get a part time job. Funny how Emma always made me out to be the mean (strict) mommy, but I was the one who wanted to see her get her driver’s license. I kept hoping she would show us she was mature enough to take on that privilege.

I talked to other home school moms, mother’s of college kids, teachers, and did a lot of reading on line. As usual, Phill said whatever I decided was fine. I talked to him about it, and tried to get his opinion, but he stayed out of it and was more interested in his RC groups and chatting on the computer and flying toy air planes. Finally, I just couldn’t seen Emma starting college at 16. It didn’t feel like the right decision. I felt like it would probably be better to get Emma back in public school and let her do joint or dual enrollment and take college classes while she finished high school. Emma was smart, but there’s a lot more to college than just smarts, and the two things that nagged at me were that fact that Emma would have no high school diploma, and I just wasn’t sure Emma was mature enough to start college full force.

Another reason I wanted Emma in high school was to give her more time around her peers before she started college. Yes, Emma was that Unsocialized homeschooler. Emma had had a pretty sheltered life, which can be good in some ways, and not so good in others. Homeschoolers typically are fairly good kids because mom and dad keep a pretty close eye on them and are usually involved in their kids lives. I worked for the arts program where Emma attended classes, and they kids were all pretty well behaved because if they weren’t, the program would ask them to leave. Public schools don’t have that option, and we’ve all heard the horrible stories of bullying, ostracizing, harassment and such that go on in public schools. As a mom who worked at the program, I was proud of the kids there. I saw a lot more tolerance and acceptance, and I thought it was because the kids were more individuals than the kids at public schools were. The kid who studied martial arts didn’t put down the kid who studied art. There were so many kids who were into so many different things.

The sheltered part of Emma’s upbringing that may have also been a negative was the fact that Emma wasn’t exposed to enough differences as far as race and religion. Phill and I were pretty much homebodies, and didn’t go out a lot, so Emma’s life consisted of her family, her homeschool groups, our church, and her various activities. In our homeschool groups, there were very few families of color, and the same for our church, although there were a few there as well. As a teen, Emma had all the answers and became rather prejudice and bigoted and Phill joked privately that Emma was “Right of right” and called her a mini-racist or a little racist (although he only said this to me, and not to Emma). I chalked it up to Emma’s limited worldliness, and figured she would outgrow her views. Emma had also decided that being gay was a choice and was wrong, and Emma was very judgmental on anyone who didn’t live up to her standards. Since Phill and I were pretty easy going about social issues, we talked openly with Emma about whatever she wanted to discuss, and we didn’t know where her strict black and white standards came from because we’d always been more “live and let live” kind of people. There was no grey with Emma. She had her opinions and beliefs and if we didn’t agree with her, we were wrong. You know how teenagers think mom and dad are stupid and they have all the answers? And then they grow up and realize they know a lot less than they thought they did and mom and dad actually had some wisdom (and life experience) and were a lot smarter than they thought. Well, that was what I was hoping to see in Emma one day. Still not there.

For the half year Emma attended public school she complained about the drugs, loose morals, all the pregnant girls, and the blacks and the Mexicans. According to Emma, the black kids got away with anything because the teachers were too afraid of being accused of racism to stand up to them, and every Mexican that Emma knew was poor and came from a family of 10 -14 kids. Emma complained about a Mexican kid that rode her school bus and lived in downtown Hoschton, in a dilapidated home with taped up windows. I asked her where the house was, and even drove around looking, but funny thing, I never found it.

When Emma complained about black kids at school, I tried to talk to her about cultural differences. Yes, inner city kids might be very different from Emma, but if she looked at the families at our church who were not white, they were just like us, living in middle class neighborhoods, going to school, playing sports, etc. If you remember from an earlier post, Emma claimed a black boy in her drama class had accused her of being a racist and of not liking black people. I doubt there was any truth to that story that this boy, out of the blue, accused Emma of not liking black people, and I’m sure it came out of Emma’s imagination, but Emma claimed to have told the boy that she preferred to judge people on the content of their character and not the color of their skin and then said that the boy didn’t even get that she was quoting Dr. Martin Luther King. (And as I said, I doubt there’s any truth to this story whatsoever, but it seems like the young man’s last name was Washington, so maybe we should look him up and see if he remembers.)

Emma didn’t like any of the girls on the drama crew because they were all lesbians, according to Emma.

While staying at a friend’s home who lived in a Mexican neighborhood, Emma claimed the Mexicans were shooting guns, in order to make it sound scary and to fulfill her role as victim, rather than tell the truth and admit they were shooting off fireworks on the holiday like we’d seen on so many other holidays when we’d been over at our friend’s house. What’s a teenager without a little drama?

SONY DSC

Emma  in the play Metamorphosis at Jackson County Comprehensive High School.  DRAMA!

Emma and I attended a ladies’ bible study, and there were a couple of women who had daughters or their son’s girlfriends who got pregnant. I know in two cases that I remember, the young women didn’t attend the group, but we heard all bout what was going on from the grandmothers-to be. Then, there was the daughter of one of the women, a few years older than Emma, who started coming to our group, and was pregnant. Emma was very judgmental, and it didn’t help that the young lady’s baby daddy was Mexican and I think was married, but in any event already had two or three other children. When our group leader mentioned we could have a shower for this young lady, everyone jumped on the idea to celebrate this little baby, that is, everyone except Emma. Later, when Emma and I were alone, she complained about how we were rewarding this young lady for doing something wrong. I tried to talk to Emma about how this young lady was in for a difficult life as a single mom, and she needed our love and support. I told her how fortunate this mom-to-be was to have two loving parents who were there to help take care of her baby, and since Emma was so staunchly ProLife, we needed to support this girl who could have taken the easy way out and chosen to have an abortion. In Emma’s mind, this young woman did not live up to her high standards. Emma kind of missed the part in church about how as Christians, we are all sinners. Emma’s own sins weren’t near as bad as someone who had sex before marriage and had a mixed race baby. Sadly, I don’t think “humble” is in Emma’s vocabulary. I remember when all the craziness started, and an adult friend who knew Emma some, but not well, told me she always felt that Emma considered herself superior to everyone else. Well, as a mom, of course, it breaks your heart to have someone think that about your child, but believe it or not, I tried to teach Emma to be kind to other people.

I would like to say that Emma changed after that beautiful baby boy was born, and his mother and grandmother brought him to our bible study. Emma usually liked little kids, but she had no interest in him, which was fine because the rest of us wanted to hold him and pass him around. Once you earned a place on Emma’s naughty list, I don’t think it’s easy to get off it.

So, you can see from the above why I thought maybe Emma had been a little too sheltered. I had hoped going to public school and maybe attending college at the same time might be good for Emma. Having grown up in a military family, I had a hard time understanding Emma’s prejudice and bigotry. When my family was overseas, we were just glad to meet kids who spoke English. We didn’t care what color they were!

Did I think Emma was ready for college? Academically, I think she might have been fine, but I thought Emma needed to grow up a little more before she started college. I just didn’t think she was mature enough. Well, you can imagine how this situation went over—————like a ton of bricks. Once again, I was the evil mommy who hated her, didn’t want her to be happy. The only reason she wasn’t starting college at 16 was because her mommy was MEAN! Story of my life. Emma had no idea how agonizing this decision was for me and how much time I put in to making it. Had Emma done things like her chores without having to be told over and over again, or picking up her room without being told, had she been a little more responsible, I might have felt differently.

I have often wondered if Emma’s views on social issues (blacks, gays, lesbians, Mexicans…..) have changed. Did going to college (all 4 of them), living in Ohio with in-laws who are political opposites to Emma and living in California, and Texas change Emma’s feelings about people that are different from her? Hopefully, she had some exposure to other cultures and her world got a little bigger She was a know it all teen, but I’m hoping at 24 ½ years now, and with a little more life experience, that she’s realizing people are people and cute babies are cute babies, and we don’t care what color they are or if their mom’s were married when they had them.

Parental Unit Days

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her current husband, Tyler Buchheim live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, who has put architecture on hold, is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School in an effort to avoid a midlife crisis (according to Tyler).  Emma works showing and leasing swanky apartments in Frisco.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

 

Parental Unit Days

Goodness, I had wanted to share my thoughts for Mother’s day, but have been so busy, I didn’t get to it, and now it’s almost Father’s Day!

I can now share from the perspective of surviving my 8th Mother’s Day without my daughter. This was the first time in 8 years that I could actually say, “Happy Mother’s Day” and mean it. I didn’t want to hide from or ignore the day. Of course, I still miss my Emma, and I’m still hoping she’ll grow up, but she is what she is, and I didn’t fall into the pits of despair just because it was Mother’s Day. I wasn’t expecting a card, a call or an e-mail, so Emma didn’t disappoint me, but actually, I had a pretty nice day. I did have to work, but then came home and went to a cook out with some friends, and had some good food and good company on a beautiful, albeit warm, day, and I even got a couple of Mother’s Day cards from my very thoughtful sister and brother-in-law (and my dog) who were thinking of me.

When you’re a mother, everyday is Mother’s Day, but it is nice to have one day to be acknowledged for all you do for your child/children. The cooking, cleaning, diapers, runny noses, vomit, tears, boo boos, sickness, homework, school projects, chauffeuring and then sitting around, bored, while your child gets to do whatever fun activity they are involved in like swimming, kayaking, softball, karate, soccer, art class, choir, youth group, brownies, piano lessons, drama, therapy….. For mom, so much of that stuff is pure boredom and a lot of waiting around, but then when you get to see some of those moments, like when your child catches the fly ball, or breaks a board in karate, or just has a fun, silly time at play group, it is pure joy. To see them grow and learn and accomplish a task or grasp a concept, those are the moments we moms love, just watching our babies thrive in life.

As a child, Emma got to do so many more activities than Phill and I ever got to do as children, but as her mom, I just wanted to open her eyes to new experiences. I wasn’t expecting her to become a great black belt in karate, or a classical pianist, but I wanted Emma to get to try different things, and to be able to appreciate the effort that goes into them. Maybe Emma would never be a black belt, but by taking karate for a while, hopefully if she met someone who was, she would understand how much work went into earning that black belt. If she took a pottery class, maybe she would see a beautiful piece of pottery one day and understand and appreciate what goes into the making, the glazing, the firing of the piece.

Like most kids, I don’t think Emma appreciated how lucky she was that any extracurricular she was interested in, Phill and I would try to work out her being able to do. And, like a lot of kids, Emma never found anything she really loved. She never stuck with anything too long, but that’s ok. I always hoped she would find something she loved and could put some time and energy into, but Emma seemed to get bored with a lot of things, so we’d finish that activity and try something else. Or, if Emma didn’t excel at something right away, she wanted to quit whatever activity it was. (Smart child problems.) She didn’t seem to grasp that you didn’t become the best at something the first time you tried it. For a while, I was a glass bead maker, until Phill threw me out of our home and kept all my supplies. I took a beadmaking class (working on a torch) on a whim because a friend wanted to do it, and I was the absolute worst one in the class. I’m not very coordinated anyway, and I dropped things, and spilled things and really didn’t do great at all, but I loved it and it just made me want to try harder to “get it.” I practiced and took more classes and later began selling my work. I found that through hard work and maybe some natural talent, I was actually pretty good, better than a lot of people who’d been doing torch work longer than I had. I don’t do it anymore, and as I said, Phill has or had all my supplies (I would guess that he probably sold all my stuff.) Just before Emma got Phill to throw me out of our home, Emma had asked me to teach her to work on the torch, so we were planning on, that summer, when she was out of school and had some time, me teaching her my craft. In any event, I hope Emma enjoyed all the things she got to do.

EJD0610.jpg

Emma with Johnathan and Derek McCravy, helping with the church camp at Sunrise Baptist Church, Lawrenceville, Ga.

I have a friend, who when I joke about being the world’s worst mom, or being a child abuser, this friend jumps in and says, “You were an awesome mom!” and then she reminds me of how I was saying all the time, “Oh Emma would enjoy that, I should take her to do that….” and how I was always thinking of Emma and if an opportunity came up, I would drop everything for Emma to have the opportunity to do something. Thank goodness for friends!

Before Mother’s day, I kept seeing articles about when Mother’s day is a disappointment. One article was about women wanting to be mothers, struggling with infertility. Another article was about “when you didn’t get the mother you deserved” and I figure that one had to be written by a millennial, maybe even Emma! I started thinking of all the people I know who’ve had some pretty horrible mother’s days. I know people who have lost a child to death, divorce, drugs, and mental illness. I know other parents who are estranged from their children for one reason or another, and some of them don’t even know why they are estranged. I think my own situation is so horrible, but all I have to do is look around, and I can find someone worse off than me.

Those of us that have survived something so horrible as mothers can tell you the one thing we have that no one can take is our memories. My dear, sweet husband wouldn’t let me have any of my things other than clothes and books, and a couple of odds and ends, and what hurt the most was that Phill wouldn’t let me have any of Emma’s baby photos (99% of which were taken by me). I’ve wondered what Phill did will all the little things around the house that were gifts to me from my sisters or from friends. The cross stitch switch plate cover that a friend made me, the little tree on the mantle and the fake asparagus plant in the kitchen that my sister gave me, the glass vase hanging on the wall in our bedroom that a friend gave me one birthday, the dream catcher that hung from the ceiling fan in our bedroom along with some other dangles that Emma had made for me, and the fan pulls in the living room that I traded some glass work that I did for. I had asked Phill for the full bed in the spare room, figuring he and his girlfriend would need our queen bed, and he never gave it to me. Many of you know I was living in a furnished house, so when I bought my home, I brought my mattress and box springs, and I am proud to say after living her a year, with a mattress on the floor, I finally bought a bed. Lol. There are so many things I need, a bed just wasn’t at the top of the list.

Anyway, sometimes I’ll think of things and wonder what Phill did with my ________ (fill in the blank), but having survived Emma, I can honestly say things aren’t that important to me. I don’t even think much about all the wonderful baby photos anymore. I learned a lot more about my husband than I ever wanted to know and found out he wasn’t quite the good man he took pride in believing he was. Emma liked to joke that Phill was weak and pathetic, controlled by us girls (and then controlled just by Emma) and a dumb truck driver…. Phill couldn’t stand up for me or to me, and I had to be the disciplinarian and be the bad guy, but I still always thought we were a team, and I confused my husbands work ethic with his morals. I knew he was a hard worker, and thought he would work just as hard at his family, but I was wrong. Early on, in the middle of all the drama, I was seeing a therapist and said something about being 50 and having to start my life over, and she reminded me that I would be 70 and starting my life over, so there is that. At 50+ I’ve done a lot of things I probably should have learned to do before I got married, so I wouldn’t have been so dependent on my husband, and I’m still learning. It does make me wish Emma had grown up before she got married, because she will probably end up in the same boat, but I’m her mom and there’s not much I can do about that.

I was fortunate enough to be a stay-at-home mom, and when I did work, it was just a little part time job. In a lot of ways, that will hurt me financially in the long run, but I have something that no one can take away, and that’s all the memories of raising Emma. From Emma’s poopy face when she’d turn all red and you’d ask, “Emma are you pooping?” (in her diaper) and she would deny, deny, deny, which we thought was hilarious, to all the conversations about life in general, and how up until a couple of months before Phill had me thrown out of our home, Emma would come in my bedroom every night before she went to bed and want to snuggle and have “girl talk” with me before she went to bed, no matter how bad it got, I was blessed to be a mom. The hours and hours of magical reading time, to playing in the inflatable pool, or blowing bubbles out on the driveway, there are so many moments that are such treasures. Yes, the later years were horrible, and Emma turned into a pretty crummy human being, but she was a wonderful baby, toddler, and child for a while, and I got to be her mom and see it all. Kids are a crap shoot, but even with all the horrible things Emma’s done, if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t know what being a mom was like.

I love you, Emma.

 

P.S.  Is Tyler done with the Flat Iron School yet?

Protecting the Ones We Love

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her current husband, Tyler Buchheim live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, who has put architecture on hold, is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School in an effort to avoid a midlife crisis (according to Tyler).  Emma works in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area as an insurance underwriter.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Ok, so I changed the title of this post, but I’m not changing the post, so if you’ve already read it, don’t bother.  Initially, I was thinking how it’s a mother’s instinct to protect her child, and so I named the post, “A Mother’s Instinct,” but then I started comparing my situation with Emma to the local story of this murdered woman.  I was thinking about how this dying woman did not want to believe her husband shot her on purpose (allegedly).  I heard someone talking about she may have said, “It was an accident.” because she wanted to protect her husband, and I got to thinking about how I still wanted to protect Emma, even though she accused me of child abuse, and even though I was just beginning to uncover her lying habit.  (At the time she accused me though, I had no idea how much lying Emma was doing.  She pretty much lied about everything.)

 

Well, after a wonderful, relaxing vacation visiting friends in Fla., and then stopping on my way home to Kayak from Amelia Island to Cumberland Island, I got home, back to the grind, had a rather traumatic welcome home surprise at work on my first day back from vacation, and then got hit by a cold. One of those colds that just wears you out, but you keep going, keep working, etc, until you have a day off to crash in the bed all day. Thank goodness I have (knock wood) managed to avoid the flu, so I can’t complain too loudly about being sick, but gosh, darn, I almost made it through the whole sick season without getting sick!

I had the radio on while running around today, and I was listening to a local talk show (Eric Von Haessler—if you haven’t heard of him, I guess you would say he’s a libertarian who talks about current events and he and his crew are very funny.) Eric was talking about a local story that I’d heard about, but really hadn’t paid much attention to– A wealthy, high powered attorney who shot and killed his wife in 2016. Murder or Accident? The trial was starting today.

I was sort of half listening, as I really wasn’t that interested in the Tex McIver case, and there was a legal analyst (Ron Carlson, I think) on, and now I’m going to have to learn how to listen to a Podcast because I want to go back and hear it again, but anyway, they were talking about all the contradictions in the case. Listening to it got me a little curious, so I did some reading about it, and here are some of the things I found out about the death of Diane McIver and her husband Tex:

Tex McIver

Wife much wealthier than he was

owed wife $350,000, hence possible new will, leaving their ranch to her Godson

Offered bribe to make case go away

tried to convince witness to say she wasn’t there

sold off wife’s things shortly after her death

broke bond condition of not possessing any guns when investigators discovered a glock in his sock drawer while executing a search warrant

did not call 911 after wife shot

instead of taking wife to closest hospital, took her to a hospital further away that did not have a trauma center

Prior to his marriage to Diane, was involved in a shooting where he opened fire on three young men in a car

acrimonious divorce from his first wife who accused him of a long-time affair

Diane McIver

while dying, stated to Emory Dr. that it was an “accident”

when Dr. asked wife if she wanted to see husband, she said, “no”

 

Ok, so that’s for starters, and I have to admit, I’ve gotten more curious, so I’m going to have to do some more reading about the case.

What caught my attention was when the two gentlemen on the radio were discussing why Diane McIver would say her husband shooting her was an “accident.” Was Diane trying to protect her husband and she didn’t want to admit that her husband might have shot her on purpose? Maybe she just didn’t want to believe her husband could do what he’d done.

Like I said, I want to go back and listen to the segment again, but I could really relate to protecting those we love, especially as a mother.

When Emma’s attorney was about to file a law suit, and Emma and I talked about how the attorneys would need to talk to her on-line friend, “Lacey” who Emma claimed was raped and attempted suicide, Emma understood that this would be necessary for her case, to show how “Lacey’s” rape brought up Emma’s repressed memories of being molested by the priest when she was 12. Emma was fine with it and said she understood and would talk to “Lacey” and tell her that the attorneys would need to talk to her.

Of course we know how this story ends, I get the email from the attorney that he is ready to file the suit, and WHAM, all of a sudden my daughter accuses me of physically abusing her to stop the law suit before she is caught in a big fat lie. (This was a brief synopsis for those of you who may be new readers.)

When the legal analyst was talking about how Diane McIver may have been wanting to protect her husband by claiming he shot her by accident (He was in the backseat of the vehicle, how would she know?”) I thought of Emma and how I wanted to protect her.

Shortly before Christmas of 2010, my daughter accused me of abuse and we had the whole DFACS involvement, Emma went to the mental hospital, etc., and after we got her home, I just wanted to get my family back to normal. I’d begun to suspect that Emma really hadn’t been sexually abused, or maybe I’d had some doubts from the beginning, but what parent wants to believe their child made up a lie about being sexually abused?

After Emma accused me of abuse, my mind was made up that the whole thing was a lie, but I didn’t pursue it. We wanted Emma home, we were in family therapy with Suzie McGarvey, (now with North Gwinnett Counseling Associates)  and had Emma in therapy, and Phill and I even went without Emma to talk to her therapist. (Big mistake because when Emma found out, she was paranoid about it and thought we were just going to “talk bad” about her, even when I told her we were trying to work on making things better as a family.) With all this going on, I still couldn’t tell anyone that I thought Emma made up the whole, “I was sexually abused by a priest” thing. I didn’t even say anything to Phill, my best friend, husband, and love of close to 30 years. I still wanted to protect her and didn’t want people thinking badly of her, even though I felt it was a lie.

Of course, hindsight is 20-20 and now I feel like Phill and I should have either sat down with Emma or sat down with Emma and a counselor and we should have gotten to the bottom of things. Maybe if we’d pushed Emma to answer some hard questions, we would have gotten to the truth a lot sooner, and my family would have been destroyed by Emma’s power struggle. Even now, I have an tiny unrealistic hope that Emma will grow up and one day tell us why she did what she did, but I guess 99% of me feels like this won’t happen. In 17 years of being Emma’s mom, I saw too much that makes me think she could be a sociopath, a narcissist, and may have some other personality disorders thrown in, so I don’t really expect Emma to change, except maybe to get better at what she does.

So, yes Diane, if you were trying to protect your husband, I completely understand. I tried to protect my daughter from being thought badly of, from her own lies, from herself, even to my own detriment. My first instinct, even with all the horrible things my daughter did, was to protect her.

hurt

You’ve Gotta Have a Sense of Humor (Edited and updated 2/11/18)

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her current husband, Tyler Buchheim live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, who has put architecture on hold, is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School in an effort to avoid a midlife crisis (according to Tyler).  Emma works in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area as an insurance underwriter.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

A dreary, rainy day, and after getting tires for my car, and running some errands, I was looking forward to spending a quiet day at home.  Ok, I have a lot of things I need to be doing at home, but I’m also in the middle of a good book, so you probably know how that goes.

I’ve had a lot of things on my mind regarding Emma, and I have wanted to sit down and write about several things, but particularly her GI problems (aka her DDT poisoning).  I have wondered if there’s any correlation between GI problems and mental illness.    At this point, I don’t believe Emma was really sick, and I’ll explain why later when I go into all her vomiting issues.  I wonder if she still throws up when she doesn’t get what she wants, or was she miraculously cured when she got rid of her evil mother?  In any event, like everyone else, I have a busy life, and it’s hard and somewhat painful to tell Emma’s story, and I don’t have some literary agent giving me an advance so I can quit my job and sit and write all day, (Ok, I just find that thought funny, so I had to put it out there.) so I will keep plugging away.

Victim

I had to laugh when someone showed me this meme, and said, “Look, there’s Emma!”  Of course, I’m hoping Emma will grow up, and start acting like  grown up, admit what she did, and let us all move forward, but those of you that know me know that I think there’s something very wrong with my daughter.  I would like to believe that my sweet girl is still somewhere inside, but I am not optimistic.  As a mother, it’s heartbreaking, knowing what potential your child had, and knowing what a positive difference she could have made in the world, and then facing the truth, that your child is not what she seems.

Another meme that I saw on Facebook a few times, was a George Carlin (whether or not this was really attributed to him or not, I don’t know), and was something about if your child is an asshole, it’s your fault. (Sorry, I can’t find it now, or I would share it here.)  I saw that one and thought, “Well yeah, but only if you have normal children.”  Phill and I tried to set a good example for Emma, and tried to discipline her appropriately although if you’ve read some of my previous posts, Emma never cared that actions had consequences.  If she wanted to do something, she would do it and take the punishment (and then say we punished her because we hated her.)  Emma did what she wanted to do, even as a little girl.  We tried to correct her and bring her up right, and thought we just had a stubborn child, not realizing there was something else going on.

We were a small family, Phill, Emma, and I, and I guess every child thinks their family is dysfunctional.  I remember at a church social event laughing when a girl who was a year or so younger than Emma said to a friend, “Wow!  Your parents are both doctors?”  My mom doesn’t do anything and my dad just sells houses.  Yeah, her mom didn’t do anything but manage the household and take care of every  need for that young lady and her brother.

Emma thought her dad was a clueless, dumb truck driver, but I don’t really know what Emma thought about me until she decided she needed to change from playing the roll of  a sexual abuse victim, to child abuse victim.  Emma and I were very close, and she hugged and cuddled with me everyday, and even at 16 would frequently come sit in my lap and put her arms around me and rest her head on my shoulder.  Almost every night, when I got in to bed to read or watch tv before bed, Emma would come in, get under the covers, and lie in the bed with me before she went to bed.  Unless I was watching something she wanted to watch, I usually turned off the sound to the tv because she would want to talk.  If Phill were home and came in the bedroom, Emma would banish him from the room so we could have “girl talk.”  There were so many sweet moments with my girl, even almost 7 years later, it’s still hard to believe things turned out like they did.

As I mentioned earlier, Phill could not tell a joke to save his life, but he had a great sense of humor and was quick with puns.  I have a pretty good sense of humor, but am not as quick thinking as Phill.  Emma could easily take offense to Phill’s jokes, and a lot of times just didn’t get them, as he might make a joke referring to something from pop culture before Emma was born, and would would have to explain things do her, but Emma could also be very funny, and in any event, there was a lot of laughter in our home.

Often, we would want to share with Emma movies we remembered seeing when we were first married, remembering how funny they were and thinking she would enjoy them.  I remember one time saying, “I don’t remember this movie having all this bad language!” and Emma replying, “Mom, you say that every time.”  I guess all those curse words sailed right by when I was in my 20’s, but then they seem to be flashing in neon lights when you hear the same words while sitting with your child!

Once, when we heard the song, “Every Move you Make” by the Police, my mind wandered back to the early 80’s, and then Emma brought me back to reality when she said, “That song sounds rather stalkerish.”  Lol.  I was just enjoying the song and had never given much thought to the meaning of it, but she was right!

We were a close family, and Phill and I loved each other, and we loved Emma.  When Emma wasn’t around, Phill and I still had fun together, and I thought we set a good example of what a good marriage was for Emma.  Phill was always just as introverted as I was and could be very awkward in social situations.  Sometimes, he would become very talkative if he was uncomfortable, but not in a good way, just sort of nervous and rambling.  He became much more of a social butterfly once his found his niche with his RC buddies, and as for me, being on my own and going back to work, and working with the public has forced me to become much more social.  I was always horrible at small talk, and very uncomfortable at parties, but I think I’ve mastered the small talk thing pretty well.  People like to talk about themselves, so if you get people talking, it’s really not that difficult.  You just sit back and let them talk.  Even with the ones who are also introverts, you can usually find a topic they like to talk about.

I love funny people.  Thank goodness I have friends who make me laugh.  Life can have it’s tough moments, and I work in a field where I see a lot of trials and sadness, but I’m always grateful for laughter.  I admire the people going through difficult situations, like fighting cancer, who still have a sense of humor.  You see some people who’ve been through things and turn angry and bitter, and I never want to be them.  While I might make fun of my husband for being such an idiot and letting Emma get away with what she did, and I regret that because of his actions (or lack of) we may have lost an opportunity to get Emma some help while she was still under our roof, I don’t want to be one of those angry, bitter people.  There’s still a lot of things I want to do and see in this world, and I don’t have time for the petty stuff.

I’ve met plenty of women who were treated badly by their husbands and ended up divorced.  I’m surprised sometimes that someone I just met will tell me something that seems so personal so quickly, but I think as time goes on, it’s easier to talk about, so I think I can see why they talk about it so easily.  I have seen some of these women that are still so angry and bitter after many years, and I let them know that I am divorced as well, and I understand.  While I don’t share my life story with people I’ve just met, I can usually make them laugh with a joke, “Well, he’s not dead, and I’m not in jail, so it must be a good day.” (And, I hesitated to tell that story lest Phill have me arrested and accusing me of making terroristic threats, but I think it’s obvious I’m joking, although I wouldn’t put anything past Phill.)  I have nicknames for Phill like “Flatworld Phill” and I enjoyed making the bank tellers laugh because across every check from Phill, in the top left hand corner, it would say, “Alimony” in big letters, so I would add, “–from the idiot” in neat cursive writing when depositing my check.  And, I jokingly refer to Kim Chassion as Phill’s trophy wife because if you knew Phill, had someone he knew dumped his wife for a younger woman (even though she’s not that much younger), Phill would have used that term in jest.

I’ve never met The Good Son-in-Law, Tyler Buchheim, and I have no idea what he’s like, but the one thing I would wish for him and Emma, if their marriage were to last, would be a lot of laughter.  One of the things I loved about my husband was that he could always make me laugh, and when you have a bad day or are going through something difficult, or even a boring day, just dealing with all the mundane things in life, someone who makes you laugh is a handy thing to have.  Emma and Tyler are still in that “new love” stage, and Tyler hasn’t fully experienced what life with a drama queen will bring, so I hope he’s got a good sense of humor!  Good luck, Ty!

 

 

 

Emma and the Roy Moore Effect Part 2 , Person of the Year (Update 12/12/17)

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her husband, Tyler Buchheim now live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, who has put architecture on hold, is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School in an effort to avoid a midlife crisis (according to Tyler).  Emma works in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area as an insurance underwriter.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

 

Emma and the Roy Moore Effect

EmmaTimeMag

#metoo, Emma Katherine Roey Buchheim

 

Ok, when I heard about Time magazine’s Person of the year, The Silence Breakers, my first thought was, Emma made it to Time magazine’s person of the year! I have to admit, I wanted to remove one of the faces and paste Emma’s into it, but as we all know, my computer skills are very limited. I did find some Time templates, but when I tried to load Emma’s picture, the magazine didn’t show up, so some of you saw my earlier post, and now, thanks to a reader, I have what I wanted.  (I love it!The matching coat is a great touch!)  For those of you that missed it, this was the best I could do:

Time 2017metoo

 

Emma Buchheim, Emma Katherine Buchheim, Emma Kate Buchheim

I’m sure if I search the internet or look at some youtube videos, I can learn how to use a template, and I’m thinking of taking some digital photography and digital darkroom classes in the future. But anyway, those were my humorous thoughts upon hearing about the magazine. At least it wasn’t Colin Kaepernik, who, along with a few other celebs like the K family, I am totally tired of! (And I only get about 3 tv channels. Can you imagine how tired of stuff I would be if I actually watched tv?)

As a woman who has faced my share of some man’s “sexual misconduct”  along with almost every other woman I know, I used to be one of those people who thought “believe now and find out the facts later”, or in the case of children,”A child wouldn’t make that up!” I’ve known plenty of women who felt powerless to do something about the predator who crossed their path whether it was a family friend or relative, a teacher, a minister, a stepfather, a classmate in college, a boss or coworker, or whatever. I despise these people, and the prison sentence for the ones that actually do get prosecuted can never be long enough. Of the women I know who have been victims, this covers all ages from childhood to teens to college age, to adults.   It is all horrible, but I am especially sickened by those who prey on children, the weakest among us.   Personally, I also don’t believe there is rehab for pedophiles. When they get out, they will strike again. Period.

It’s about time sexual harassment is taken seriously. It’s been a well known secret in so many instances, for many years. As some of these high profile people were starting to fall, I was chatting with some coworkers and said, “I wonder how many of these men in high power positions are shaking in their boots right now.”  The next day, we heard about Matt Lauer.

Then again, as the mother of a well established liar, for the record I will say that I do not believe my daughter was ever sexually molested by a priest, so what about the falsely accused? What about those people, usually men, who are the hated accused, but then turn out to actually be the victims?  It’s like they belong to a secret club. I have known a few of these victims, and it’s not something they go around advertising. I remember talking to a man a few years ago who told me about his divorce, and how his daughter had accused him. Later it was all dropped and he was cleared when dear daughter admitted she’d made it all up, but she put her dad through months of hell and then was like, “Okay dad, forget it, but could you still pay my tuition?”

In Emma’s case, the priest she accused was retired, so it didn’t affect his livelihood, but for some people, it can be financially devastating. A few years ago, I witnessed another person who was falsely accused. This man wasn’t someone I worked with directly, and I’m not going to share the intimate details except to say that the company immediately fired him, and later a grand jury refused to indict him. Because several of my coworkers and I came in close contact with his accuser, we were all adamantly sure the allegations were false being as the accuser had a history of drug use, some psych issues, some mug shots along the way, and had pulled a similar stunt somewhere else where fortunately there were cameras to counter the accusations. And those were only a few of the things we knew of. Imagine what we didn’t know!  I’m sure if someone investigated a little deeper, there was probably much, much more.

An award winning employee lost his job and was facing a long term prison sentence if convicted. Can you imagine doing your job and all of a sudden, out of the blue, the police show up to arrest you and accuse you of a sexual crime? It was absolutely horrifying. My coworkers and I discussed how we understood that a company would have to fire you to protect it’s customers because what if you’d done what you were accused of and were still allowed to work? It could happen again. Then again, we live in a country where you are supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, but how does that work? This man lost his livelihood until the charges against him were dropped. Can you imagine the nightmare his life must have been until the truth came out about the (in my opinion) piece of trash who accused him? What about the expense of lawyers and everything else?

If you ask anyone about the incident now, it seems like the first thing people say is, “That man’s life was ruined.” I assume he could have gotten his job back, but would most people want to go to work and face everyone who knew what he had been accused of. Even though no one believed the accuser, it was still a horrible and embarrassing situation.

I haven’t kept up with this man, but because of what Emma put me through, I can understand a lot of what he went through, and I hope he has a great job and is doing something he loves now.

I’m sure in Emma’s case, she didn’t think about what she was doing by accusing a priest of sexually molesting her. She was a dumb teenager and was probably acting impulsively. I don’t think she thought through what she was doing, but like everyone else around her, I went into that “She wouldn’t make this up.” mode. When it’s a child, everything stops and everyone bows down to the child. For an attention seeker, this would be exactly what a child like Emma would want. All of a sudden she is the center of attention in a very serious drama.  She was the star of the show! (There’s a reason Phill always called her a drama queen.) Emma got what she wanted, but whether it’s part of a sociopathic personality or just being a immature teen, Emma did not stop to think or care about the pain her actions would cause the man she accused. Is she going to repay his legal fees? Apologize for making up the molestation story? In this case, this man was a father and grandfather, so you can imagine the humiliation and embarrassment. Does Emma have any clue as to how much she hurt this man and his family?  I am ashamed for the pain we caused this man and his family, and I am ashamed of Emma for lying about being a victim when she wasn’t.  Because so many women and children are victims of these predators, I’m ashamed to be the  mother of the little girl who cried wolf, and it bothers me that someone may be afraid to tell their story because they know there are liars like Emma who hurt the cause.  Emma Tawana Brawley.  (Emma’ that’s way before your time, but you can look it up.)

I do hope one day that Emma will explain to us the motives for her falsely accusing the priest of sexual molestation. She was bored and needed attention, so was that the reason for all the stories? Since the priest was running for office and happened to be a democrat, was that the reason Emma went after this man. Emma’s story has similarities to the Roy Moore story in that she made her accusation before an election. And, when I told my sister about Emma’s accusation, Emma was FURIOUS with me for telling my sister, but later when she spoke to my sister, one of the first things she said to my sister was that the priest was a democrat. What Emma trying to have an effect on a local election by her accusation? In Emma’s case, she accused a politician shortly before an election, just like in Roy Moore’s case, but with Emma, the priest dropped out temporarily and then got back into the race. As we’ve seen in the news lately, some politicians are resigning after admitting they acted wrongly, but in Roy Moore’s case, he denies the allegations and has not dropped out of his race. Personally, I think that is the proper course of action. After all, he is innocent until proven guilty, right? There’s already some fishy things going on with a tampered with signature in a yearbook and the fact that the accuser won’t turn over the yearbook for handwriting analysis.

So yes, I am glad to see victims speaking out and I’m curious as to why it has taken the media so long to address this issue.  Some of us are old enough to remember the 90’s when accusers were being swept under the rug by the media, and some people say that the #metoo movement fits a political narrative now, so that’s why the media is finally all over this issue, but at least it is being addressed now. One day, I hope the media will address the falsely accused as well. I no longer believe every story of “sexual misconduct” I hear, nor do I believe every story of child abuse that I hear. I have learned that we need to stop and look at the situation first instead of everyone jumping to the whims of a so-called sympathetic victim because there a few of them, like my daughter, who made it up.

The Apology that Never Came, Part 2

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her husband, Tyler Buchheim now live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School.  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

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Phill, Emma, and our dog, Spike when Emma and I went to watch Phill fly his toy RC airplanes one afternoon.

 

The Apology That Never Came

Part 2

I saw a headline recently to an article, that was something like, “Men Don’t Get Over It, They Just Move On” I’m sure that’s not quite right, but that was the gist of the title, and I thought, “Yep, that’s my husband.”

I think I confused Phill’s work ethic with his character. Phill has one of the strongest work ethics I know. Maybe it’s because his parents divorced when he was just a toddler, and he watched his mother struggle to take care of him and his brother, frequently counting on her mother to babysit while she worked. Maybe it was because when he was older, Phill’s dad bought a diner, and his mother went to work there, and later both Phill and his brother, Andy worked there after school as well.

When Phill worked for UPS, he started out loading the trucks, then driving the big brown trucks, and later driving the tractor trailer trucks. When he told me he had to “pre-trip” the truck everyday, which is checking everything out on the truck before you go anywhere, I always knew Phill would not cut any corners and would do what he was supposed to do each and every day. That was just Phill. He could be very thorough if he needed to be.

When Phill and I met, we were both students working part time in a huge liquor store. I was sent into the big beer cooler to stock on my first day, and Phill, a scruffy looking Grizzly Adams kind of guy, was back there and showed me what to do. Phill was often treated like a manager (although not paid like one) because he’d been there a while and proved to be very responsible. Phill used to joke that it was, “Love in the Beer Cooler” when someone asked how we met, and I often joked that we met, “in a liquor store” letting people think I let Phill pick me up buying booze, just to see their reactions.

Once, when Phill decided to wallpaper our bedroom and bathroom, he researched it, learned how to do everything, and made sure he did it right. I didn’t know how much there was to wallpapering until he showed me. That was Phill. Phill was the same about painting, and did all the time-consuming prep work, and did the job right. Because he was also a procrasintor, sometimes he didn’t finish, but that’s another story.

When I took our little dog to agility classes (just for fun, I wasn’t really interested in competing) Phill looked up all the specifications and made me some jumps, a dog walk, and an A-frame and even painted them to meet the specifications as if I were competing in competitions. That was just Phill.

When I graduated from college, Phill and I talked about I could work to support us if he wanted to go back to school. (He had gone to Georgia Tech, majoring in Electrical Engineering, and flunked out, not because of his grades, but becaues he quit going to class.) Phill would work like a dog if he was getting paid, but when we talked about him going back to school he said he knew he wouldn’t do the “busy work” the he saw me struggle through. He could do it if it interested him and it pertained to what he wanted to do, but he didn’t like wasting time on classes or assignments he thought were unnecessary, and he knew he just wouldn’t do it, so there was no point in going back to school.

I had a hard time understanding this. I’d seen my husband work so hard at some minimum wage paying job if he were getting paid, but he couldn’t think ahead enough to understand if he got through some of the BS that school entails, it would be worth it in the long run. So, that was why Phill stayed a UPS driver.

I can’t remember exactly, but when Phill went to work driving the tractor trailers, he had to train on the weekends, so he drove the brown package cars 5 days a week and then spent two weekends training with the tractor trailers, so that was, I think, about 19 days in a row with no days off, and we aren’t talking 8 hour days, either. But, it was for the job, and he was getting paid, so even though he was worn out after it was over, it was what he wanted, and so he did it. A few years ago, between my two jobs, I worked 17 days in a row and could barely get off the couch on that 18th day, and my jobs aren’t/weren’t near is physical as Phill’s job working for UPS was.

When UPS went on strike in the 90’s, Phill went to do some construction work for one of his coworkers, Kevin O’Gorman. Kevin always had side jobs going on and was known for buying a home, living in it and fixing it up, and then selling it and moving to the next fixer-upper. UPS being on strike was a little frightening, but I knew with Phill’s work ethic, he would do whatever he had to to take care of his family.

Another thing I admired about Phill was that he could do, build, or fix almost anything. Even before computers, he would do the research to accomplish whatever task he was contemplating. I never understood how he was so handy with tools when he grew up with a divorced mom who was rarely home except to sleep, so where did he learn how to be so handy?

These are just some of the examples of Phill’s work ethic. Emma loved to say her dad “just sits on his butt in a truck all day” and I really hope now that she’s been in the working world a little bit, maybe she appreciates her dad’s hard work a little more than that snotty teenager she was being at the time (but honestly, I doubt it.)

I guess because I thought Phill had such a good work ethic, he would be as hard working in the rest of his life. Phill was always easy going, but I never saw that as a flaw, until I realized he could be pretty passive and I joked with him that he was sometimes passive aggressive.  If he really didn’t want to do something, he might not do the best job.  It was ok.  When it comes to flaws, I have plenty of my own, and probably a few more than my easy-going husband.

It wasn’t until our marriage was ending that I realized how passive Phill was. I always thought we were a team. We discussed decisions, usually at my insistence, and Phill would do things like research a mortgage and decide who we were going to go with, but any difficult family decisions were left to me. Phill didn’t want children, I was the one who wanted a baby. (Although he was thrilled when the time came.) I had to be the disciplinarian, decide Emma’s medical issues, choose Emma’s schools, camps, extracurricular activities, decide on homeschooling, public school, etc. If Emma wanted to attend an activity, or go on an expensive trip, it was up to me to say yay or nay. I could talk to Phill about anything, but he always left the decisions up to me. When Emma claimed to be molested, I was the one that thought she needed to talk to someone other than me, so I was the one who had to interview therapists. I always did my best in making these choices, but Phill left it all to me.

My husband, who was such a hard worker, let a 17 year old take over and run his life. His marriage vows meant nothing. There was a new sheriff in town, and her name was Emma.

After I found out that Emma had lied about “Lacey” being raped, and “Lacey” never attempted suicide, never called Emma from the ER up in Dalton, Ga., so there was no catalyst for Emma’s repressed memories of being seually molested when she was 12, I began investigating other stories. You can read back through the blog about many of the lies. Emma claimed to be babysitting and had to call 911 on a bipolar child, Emma has the toxicology report to prove her mother poisoned her with DDT, Emma’s one-act play competitions was ruined by another school tampering with their sound equipment………. Big lies and little lies. Emma’s whole life was full of them. Emma would say something about someone, and I would talk to the person and bring up what Emma had told me and find out Emma had just made up story after story. Many of her lies were harmless, and some were hilarious. Some lies Emma took from something she read, like the Reader’s Digest, and others came from something she saw on the internet. Being a loving mom, I just excused Emma’s stories thinking she misunderstood something someone said, thinking she just got the story wrong, or maybe I was confused and got the story wrong, but then when I would check with Emma, she would re-confirm what she had said, and, well, no……………..I wasn’t crazy.  She could sure make me feel like I was though.

We had a friend, Emma’s “Aunt Janice” who swore like a sailor at times, but then cracked us up when she said things like she was letting her dogs out to go “pee-pee-doodle,” so one day Emma told me about Aunt Janice swearing “Jimminy Crap-Shit” at pet adoptions.  I thought that was pretty funny, and when later I said something to Janice about it, she said, “I never said that.” It sure sounded good though, didn’t it?  Emma has a great sense of humor with her stories.

Emma claimed that at her youth group one day, her crush, Evan and his mom were there, and Evan’s mom was talking about how she made the boys (a high schooler and a middle schooler) use sippy cups in the living room so they didn’t spill on the carpet.  Emma claimed Evan got so angry at his mom that he stormed out of the church and Emma looked out the window a few minutes later and then said, “Ummm, Miss Megan, your van is driving away.” and then Evan’s mom went running out of the church to catch up to Evan.  Great story, right?

Until I started digging, I had no idea how much of a problem Emma had with lying. I know kids lie, but when is lying a problem? Looking back, in Emma’s case, she lied more than she told the truth. I had absolutely no idea that there was something wrong with Emma, and it wasn’t that she was sexually molested. There was something much more going on. I wonder now, has Tyler Buchheim started to catch on? I know he’s busy with school and all, but living with Emma, you would think he would start to notice that something is not quite right with his wife. Does Emma gaslight Tyler the way she did me? Hiding things and then acting like I was the crazy one who but the math book in the bathroom cabinet or the cordless phone in the refridgerator?  Is it possible Emma will outgrow her lying habit or is is just something that is part of her personality forever and ever, amen? It will be interesting to see just where Emma is in a few years and what else is going on with her.

I remember when Bill Clinton was president and was sometimes referred to as the “liar-in-cheif.” On second thought, maybe Emma should get into politics. She might have quite a career there.

I’ve gotten a little off track in writing about Phill and the apology that never came. I have a little more to say on that and will continue in the next post.

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to contact me with any questions or comments.

Love to you all.

Happy 2nd Anniversary Emma and Tyler

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her husband, Tyler Buchheim now live in California where Emma sells insurance.  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Happy 2nd Anniversary to Emma and Tyler!

EmmaTylerWedding

Happy 2nd anniversary to my lovely daughter Emma Katherine Buchheim and my wonderful son-in-law, Tyler Albert Buchheim. Being the middle of the week, I hope you get to do something fun, either going out to dinner or celebrating on the weekend! I’m sure Emma will have some kind of celebration planned.

As you know Emma, your dad and I kept anniversaries pretty low key. Going to Tybee on our 23rd while you were at church camp was the biggest thing we did. I wanted to do something on our 25th, but we didn’t have anywhere for you to go, so that didn’t happen, and I was looking forward to our 30th, but that wasn’t meant to be.

You will have to ask Daddy about our 2nd anniversary though. That was probably our most interesting anniversary. Back in 1986, I was working as a receptionist for a veterinarian, and worked with an assistant named Gail. Remember how you always made fun of Sandra Brooks McCravy for how much she called me and poured out her problems to me? Well, Gail was a lot like that, but she didn’t cry near as much as your Aunt Sandi. We were friends, and Daddy and I had her over to dinner and such, but I didn’t think of Gail as a really close friend. I liked her ok, but she was way too needy. She suffered from some mental issues and saw a therapist and a social worker on a regular basis. I don’t remember her being on any medication. Daddy used to joke about her having to pay people to listen to her, but we were very young and didn’t know much about mental illness. Gail had had an unhappy childhood and always seemed kind of depressed. I remember her telling me about her mother confiding in her that her dad was having an affair when she was maybe middle school aged, and she didn’t know how to handle that information. I think she liked being around Daddy and me because we were stable and happy. She was another person who called us “soulmates” and when I joked once about how you never know what will happen, about Daddy and I being together or not in 30 years or something like that, I remember her saying, “Oh, you and Phill will be together forever. You’re soulmates.” I’ve never forgotten that conversation, although I can’t remember what we were initially talking about.

Anyway, back before cell phones, when Daddy was working for UPS and driving one of the package cars, his route was in Sandy Springs, Ga, north of Atlanta. The UPS Center that Daddy worked out of was in Doraville, Ga, and we lived in Doraville at the time. Daddy would call me from somewhere on his route to let me know about when he’d be home so I could plan dinner.

I could work with Gail all day, and she would still call me when I got home from work. She would always ask if Daddy had called because she knew I would not stay on the phone if I hadn’t heard from him, and if he had, she would want to talk to me. I didn’t mind too much because we didn’t really talk much at work except when we occasionally went out to lunch together, but a lot of times I just stayed on the phone because I was too nice and didn’t know how to politely say I had other things to do. This was also before cordless phones, so you couldn’t move around while you talked on the phone either! In this day of talking, texting, and instant communication, I’m sure you have a hard time imagining what it was like for us back then, but we survived.

June 30th, 1986, Daddy and I were going to go out for our 2nd anniversary to Steak and Ale for a prime rib dinner. There was one I the Chamblee/Dunwoody area, and I don’t know if it is even still there. We didn’t go out to nice restaurants very often, so this was a treat. I remember I was dressed in a print skirt and matching top of little pastel flowers, and wearing the little opal necklace Daddy had given me for our anniversary. I always loved opals and had wished I was born in October, so they could be my birthstone, but nooooooooooooo, I had to get that ol’ yellow topaz and the alternate stone is the citrine, with is pretty much the same color. (Back then, you didn’t see a lot of the blue topaz like you do now.)

We were getting ready to go when Gail called, and I don’t even remember why she called, just that she was depressed. She must have talked about harming herself and we ended up going over to her apartment, which wasn’t far from where we lived. It’s been so long, I don’t remember all the details, but Daddy might. We ended up taking Gail to Northside Hospital, and then taking her home again. We were going to leave her when she got upset and got a steak knife and took it into the bedroom with her. Then, after more phone calls, we took her too a mental hosptial in Smyrna, Ga, and I think it is now called Ridgeview, but I can’t remember if that’s what it was called back then.  It was a lot like Charter Peachford, where you went.  Well, with all the driving and waiting at the hospitals, we didn’t get home and to bed until about 4am, and we both had to work the next day. I remember being so sleepy and just fighting to stay awake at work. It was horrible.

After all that, I think Gail owed us a steak dinner, but she was kind of in her own world and it didn’t occur to her that she had ruined our evening. I think she had a hard time seeing past her own problems.

Daddy and I did finally go out for our prime rib dinner to Steak and Ale, but it was on July 4th. We enjoyed a good meal and then had a romantic night at home. (I guess now that you’re a married lady, it’s ok for you to know that your parents had s-e-x! Big An used to say that every generation thinks they invented sex. I know you can’t imagine your mom and dad or Sherry and Bob loved/love each other like you and Tyler do.)

So, Happy Anniversary Emma and Tyler. I would have sent a card, but I didn’t want to cause Emma any PTSD or anything. I hope your 2nd anniversary is a lot less eventful than ours was!

Lots of love,

Mom/Maze

Happy Birthday Tyler Buchheim and a Princess Diana Story

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her husband, Tyler Buchheim now live in California where Emma sells insurance.  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Happy 26th Birthday, Tyler Buchheim!

I want to wish a very Happy Birthday to my son-in-law, architect extraordinaire, Tyler Albert Buchheim who turns 26 on Aug. 21! Tyler, I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care of my girl!

CaptureTyler

Emma and Princess Diana

With all the reminders of the the anniversary of Princess Diana’s death, I wanted to share this story.

When Emma was three, we were visiting my sister in CT, and she fell in love with their guinea pig, so after we got home, we adopted a little guinea pig from the Atlanta Humane Society. Emma named her Milkbone, and she was a great little pig. Milkbone was more like a puppy who would follow you around and was very affectionate. When I held her, she would even nip at my shirt when she needed to go to the bathroom (#1). I could put her back in her pen and hear a little whiz, and then she would stand up on her hind legs, wanting me to pick her up again. She was definitely a very special piggie. She would also lick your face when she was excited, like when you first picked her up. Of course, typical kid, Emma lost interest and didn’t pay as much attention to Milkbone after a while, but that was ok. She still held her some, and I took her out and held her at least once or twice a day. Her pen was an open sterlite box in the breakfast nook, so she was kind of in the center of things and it was always easy to stop and reach in and pet her.

There was a program on every afternoon called, “Once Upon a Hamster” and we had a little routine where Emma would sit on the sofa with a towel in her lap and some vegetables and Milkbone would sit on her lap and happily munch away while Emma petted her and watched her program. The station the program was one was one of those off stations and it had those kind of “as seen on tv” commercials where you could purchase something amazing for just three payments of $19.95… Up to this point, Emma had only watched PBS, and she was just fascinated with the commercials and wanted me to buy everything she saw such as collectibles, gadgets, etc. She would call to me, “MOM! We need this! Look! You put it on your hose and was the car with it!” It was pretty cute to see her take so seriously and get so excited about every commercial that came on.

On Aug. 31, 1997, a friend invited Emma and I over to play in their above ground pool. We were enjoying cooling off, playing with the kids, when the husband came out to tell us that Princess Diana had died. We were kind of shocked and talked about it and that was it.

Not long after that, Emma was sitting with Milkbone, watching Once Upon a Hamster, and a commercial came on for some Princess Diana stamps. “Mom! We need to buy these Princess Diana stamps!”

Dianastamp

I walked into the room, glanced at the tv, and explained to Emma that I was sure they were really nice, but we didn’t need any Princess Diana stamps. Emma immediately had a meltdown and sobbed, “But, Mom!!! ………… She’s dead!!” (We still didn’t buy them, but Emma’s and Tyler’s anniversary is coming up, so if you need a gift idea…..) Poor Emma. Scarred for life because she didn’t get her Princess Diana stamps.