HANDLING LIFE AFTER ADDICTION

Kristin Hulse is one of those rare women who commands attention by merely
entering a room.

She stands 6 feet tall and flagpole straight, a striking silhouette in a
classic gray business suit.

The real show stopper comes when she speaks.

"I have almost three years [of] sobriety and every day I'm as close to that
next pop as when I started treatment."

Those who have never throttled an addiction by the neck could not
understand. Not really. But the rows of women sitting in front of Kristin
do. All have lost their children for a year or more because they abused
substances at the expense of good parenting. And today, in the harsh light
of a 3rd District Juvenile Court, each woman will stand before Judge Robert
Yeates to report aloud her progress in court-ordered treatment.

A baby step. But a series of them, successfully completed, means every
woman in this room can eventually get her family back.

This snowy morning in late October happens to be graduation day. Three
women who have completed all that is required of them by Yeates' drug court
will celebrate with chocolate cake and applause from the others who are in
various stages of this journey.

Kristin has come at Yeates' invitation, to give the grads a pep talk. She
knows this room as well as any. She landed here while in a drug recovery
program that ran from Jan. 19, 2001, to Jan. 28, 2002.

It took that long, says 39-year-old Kristin, because "I didn't want to deal
with my stuff." And in drug court, which is an alternative to prison for
women with children, dealing with "the stuff" is the only way out. Children
are remanded to foster care while their mothers get treatment. Each woman
follows a stringent program, including counseling, drug tests and reporting
to court.

If they falter, even by missing one urinalysis, Yeates sends them for a day
or two to jail.

"They write their own script," says Yeates. "They have 12 to 15 months to
get their act together and to get their kids back. I've found that four to
six months is the turning point for most. Up till then, most of them want
to bend the rules."

And boy, did Kristin know how to bend rules.

She once shared an $800-a-day cocaine habit with her husband, Dana. The two
were busted in a Salt Lake City motel room almost three years ago.

Kristin had a 17-year-old daughter from a previous marriage, and a 3
1/2-year-old son with Dana. She was 4 1/2 months pregnant. Even so, she was
carrying only 110 pounds on that 6-foot carriage.

The had two options: two 15-year sentences for felony cocaine possession,
or drug court. Kristin chose the latter, heading to detox at the Volunteers
of America. Her daughter Elizabeth was born four months later, and went
straight to foster care.

In the second six months of Kristin's program, she says, the real work
began. "A bell went off. I was sober by then, but still doing all the
behaviors that led to my addiction. I realized I was very selfish. I had
thought the rules didn't apply to me."

Since her own graduation from drug court, Kristin continues to attend a
weekly after-care program at The House of Hope, a Salt Lake treatment
center for women with children. She beat the odds for most addicts by
staying married to Dana. He, too, has remained sober.

They had another child, 15-month-old Kenny. They live in a tidy mobile home
in West Valley City. Kristin cherishes the routine of her life. She makes a
hot breakfast each morning for the kids. She wipes up spills, changes
diapers, breastfeeds Kenny.

The routine -- what a blessing. It keeps her rooted.

"We're like Ward and June Cleaver now, and thank God. I actually have an
apron now. I wear it. I love it."