It's that time of year again, when everyone stars making their infamous resolutions for the new year. According to wikipedia, the most common include losing weight, taking a trip, improving career and get out of debt. I wanted to make sure I had it right, so I looked up the definition as well. A New Year's resolution is a commitment to a personal goal that an individual makes to a project or the reforming of a habit, often a lifestyle change that is generally interpreted as advantageous.
So, I've been doing some thinking and trying to decide what mine should be. Sure, I could lose a few pounds, and I plan to. But is that really something I should resolve to do, put myself in a position to fail if I don't complete it according to the standards I set? As statistics show, a mere 12% of people actually complete these resolutions, and though I'd like to think I'll be one of the few, who really knows. Maybe I should donate more to the poor. Not to sound daft or even selfish, but I'd like to be sure my own children have a roof over their heads and food on the table before I can consider helping to provide for others. How about something like read a book every month, something worth my time and educational? Now, who am I kidding, with 3 kids, I can hardly read a magazine while I'm using the restroom these days.
Just when I think I've got the perfect idea, it fizzles out as quickly as it came about. I can't seem to make up my mind to save my life, or even to choose a New Year's Resolution. Maybe that's the answer I've been looking for all along, or the resolution, rather. Be more decisive. That sounds like a good place to start. See, I'm making strides in the right direction already.
December 30, 2010
December 29, 2010
5 months
Today, my (not so) little man is 5 months old! I can hardly believe how quickly time has flown by. It seems as though each month slips through my grasp faster than the last. Though he's not crawling on his hands and knees yet, Lil D sure seems to be getting around! He scoots in circles, and rolls like a champ! He's reaching out for things and absolutely LOVES playing with things that dangle above him.
Dustin Jr. is weighing in around 18 pounds, and he's not just chunky! He's at least 27 inches long, which makes him about the size Laila was around 8-9 months! He's sleeping fantastic, napping as I type. It breaks my heart to say this, but I have finally moved him to his room, and out of mine. For Christmas, lil man received a really nice Sony baby monitor and if I don't start using it now, it'll just sit in the box forever. After a little, (ok, a lot) of convincing that I would be able to hear him breathe with it on, I agreed to try letting him sleep in his crib. So far, so good. Not a single peep overnight, and if possible, he's sleeping longer now than he was before! His night time rituatls includ stock-piling the formula and watching his rainforest crib toy for a few minutes before falling asleep. He's the first out of the three to actually put himself to sleep, what a miracle! He's still taking one really good nap during the afternoon, usually 1-3 hours, and little cat naps throughout the day. The girls don't think he needs to sleep, so he's lucky to squeeze in a few minutes here and there while they're home.
Just the other day I decided it was time to try a sippy cup with meals, since he's eating so well. He seems to like it okay, I know he's drinking from it because the juice is disappearing and he doesn't seem to be wearing much of it! He prefers to just have a bottle, though, and I can't blame him. He's tried a variety of foods, and he's now eating half a fruit and half a vegetable each day, one for lunch and one for dinner. With each meal, he has a small bowl of cereal as well. He doesn't like the cereal, so I mix the food in with it and he can't get it fast enough! Don't let that boy's mouth get empty or you're in for a rude awakening!
Each day is a new day, filled with his smiles and laughter. He brightens my life in ways I didn't even know another person could. He seems to be the missing piece to the puzzle I thought was already complete. It's amazing the things children teach us about ourselves without even speaking.
December 28, 2010
Lexapro
Today is day 5 of the Lexapro. These last few days have been some of the longest and hardest days of my life. I've been taking Citalopram for over 2 years now, and since I've had my son, it didn't seem as though it was doing what it used to. I've noticed a change, and not for the better, in myself and my actions. In order to switch to a new medication, I had to slowly stop taking the current pill and slowly start the new one. The introductory phase is the hardest, my body has frantically been trying to cope with symptoms I never knew I had.
Having anxiety, and dealing with it alone, is almost like feeding an addiction. In fact, it's exactly that. I find myself doing whatever I can to calm my nerves, and once something soothes me, I continue it in excess. Each time, I need a little more to calm down, the adrenaline is my drug, and I'm positively addicted.
I have a hard time feeling things anymore, I've spent such a long time blocking the hurt and the pain out, that I hardly feel anything at all. When I discovered plucking my hair out (of numerous places on my body) was something I could feel, I was instantly hooked. I have let it get so out of control that my dad took my tweezers away, hid them, and even removed them from my home.
The way I feel inside is similar to the way I felt when I was craving a cigarette. The shaky, irritable feeling that can only be relieved when you take that first sweet drag, that's how I feel inside most of the day, except there is no relief. The small rush I feel when I pluck my hair out is growing weaker and weaker each time. Coming down off a cocaine high, feeling out of control and completely lost, that is how it feels to be me.
My poor children, they are taking the blunt of my problems. Their voices, their fighting and arguing, makes my anxiety rage through the roof. I can't stand to be touched, it pains me to even hear them breathe at times. My husband has to deal with my sour attitude, my lack of interest in the things I used to enjoy, and my inability to stay focused.
The Lexapro is a desparete cry for help, I hope someone, somewhere out there can relate to me and can understand I am not choosing this. No one wants to feel alone, sad, and uncomfortable in their own skin. This is not the highlight of my day, or something I'm proud of. This is a cross I bear, and my shoulders are becoming too weary to carry this weight alone. Please, pray with me, that we may have finally found the answer.
Having anxiety, and dealing with it alone, is almost like feeding an addiction. In fact, it's exactly that. I find myself doing whatever I can to calm my nerves, and once something soothes me, I continue it in excess. Each time, I need a little more to calm down, the adrenaline is my drug, and I'm positively addicted.
I have a hard time feeling things anymore, I've spent such a long time blocking the hurt and the pain out, that I hardly feel anything at all. When I discovered plucking my hair out (of numerous places on my body) was something I could feel, I was instantly hooked. I have let it get so out of control that my dad took my tweezers away, hid them, and even removed them from my home.
The way I feel inside is similar to the way I felt when I was craving a cigarette. The shaky, irritable feeling that can only be relieved when you take that first sweet drag, that's how I feel inside most of the day, except there is no relief. The small rush I feel when I pluck my hair out is growing weaker and weaker each time. Coming down off a cocaine high, feeling out of control and completely lost, that is how it feels to be me.
My poor children, they are taking the blunt of my problems. Their voices, their fighting and arguing, makes my anxiety rage through the roof. I can't stand to be touched, it pains me to even hear them breathe at times. My husband has to deal with my sour attitude, my lack of interest in the things I used to enjoy, and my inability to stay focused.
The Lexapro is a desparete cry for help, I hope someone, somewhere out there can relate to me and can understand I am not choosing this. No one wants to feel alone, sad, and uncomfortable in their own skin. This is not the highlight of my day, or something I'm proud of. This is a cross I bear, and my shoulders are becoming too weary to carry this weight alone. Please, pray with me, that we may have finally found the answer.
December 25, 2010
Happy Merry Christmas!
Each one of our kids get a "big ticket" item, and the rest is just fillers. Laila's big gift this year was a 2G pink ipod. I argued that one tooth and nail, but she still got it. I think she's a little young, but she seems to love it. So much so that I had to pry the headphones out of her ears to get her to answer me for the rest of the day!
Kenadi has been pining after my camera for quite some time, so when she opened her kid-friendly digital camera, she was tickled pink! She has been taking crotch and butt pictures all day! I will have to go through and check it out, the world from her point of view goes unnoticed so often, it will be a treat to see what life looks like from 3ft tall for a day!
Last but not least, little man! He really seemed to enjoy his first Christmas, though he realized very early on the wrapping paper is inedible. That didn't stop him from trying by any means! He seemed to enjoy his gifts, his favorite being the snail he could see himself in. He likes looking at himself, I wonder where he gets that from! Everything was wrapped nice and loose, so he was able to unwrap just about everything himself.
This Christmas has topped them all for me! Dustin really outdid anything I ever expected. Things in the past haven't always been the best come Christmastime, whenever we're in a pinch, I'm first to give things up, even if it means gifts on Christmas morning. I joked with Dustin that he bought me one awesome gift for each Christmas we've spent together to make up for lost time! I am still astonished by the thought and time he spent on each gift, and he even wrapped everything himself!
Dustin didn't do so shabby either, though I don't have the photos to prove it! He scored Madden 11 for his PS3, and the wireless headset to go along with it. Rest assured, he wasted no time testing that out before leaving for work this afternoon! He also received a few movies, a book, and jammies.
We are so fortunate to be able to celebrate Christmas this way, sharing gifts among each other in a warm home with wonderful company. God has truly blessed us with the health of our 3 children, and each other. Dustin and I hope everyone has had a spendid day, and many more will follow.
December 24, 2010
Another Week
Another week has flown by, and it leaves me wishing it was longer. My dad visited for a week, and just left us yesterday to go back to Nevada. When he comes, he brings so much to the house that I don't realize we're missing, it's sad when he goes. I'm working on smiling because he was here, not being sad he left.
This past week, with Laila being on break from school, we spent a lot of time talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other's company. With Christmastime upon us, we did a little shopping, but nothing noteworthy. We did, however, make a special trip to Target. Instead of showering our children, and ourselves, with expensive and unnecessary gifts, we decided to something a little different this year. We spent our Christmas stash on others, and to show our support to those who are so very brave.
Laila, Kenadi, Dustin Jr. and I will be making a visit to the Phoenix Children's Hospital tomorrow, and visiting some of the bravest people I'll ever have the privledge to meet. Many, many children will be spending the night away from home tonight, confined to a hospital bed by tubes and wires, and though Santa may visit them while they are there, undoubtably, they will still feel sad and lonely. It's our goal to change that, if even for just a few seconds. With a big fat sack of knick-knacks for them to choose from, we're going to visit as many children as we can, spreading our love as far as it will stretch. The hospital is only for children, ages 17 and under, and the patients have a variety of illnesses, ranging from diabetes to cancer, and everything in between.
During Laila's stay there, she was showered with gifts-a blanket, toys, coloring books, etc. but not one person came to see her and remind her how strong she was. No one told her how proud of her they were, or that she was in good hands. That's our mission, to remind these strong individuals just how wonderful they are, not just in the eyes of their parents, but others, too.
In addition to these families spending the holidays away from home, are the amazing nurses and doctors treating them. Without them, these special children wouldn't be alive and well! We are visiting them also, spreading our thanks and cheer to everyone spending the day in a stuffy hospital. I remember the days so vividly of visiting my mom on Christmas while she was undergoing chemotherapy treatments, and I never fully understood how she felt. Seeing Laila endure just a few days there, even with bits and pieces of home brought with her, made me realize just how uncomfortable spending time away from home. We are so blessed to have her here with us, home and healthy, and we have God and Phoenix Children's Hospital to thank. Tomorrow, we're going to do just that.
This past week, with Laila being on break from school, we spent a lot of time talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other's company. With Christmastime upon us, we did a little shopping, but nothing noteworthy. We did, however, make a special trip to Target. Instead of showering our children, and ourselves, with expensive and unnecessary gifts, we decided to something a little different this year. We spent our Christmas stash on others, and to show our support to those who are so very brave.
Laila, Kenadi, Dustin Jr. and I will be making a visit to the Phoenix Children's Hospital tomorrow, and visiting some of the bravest people I'll ever have the privledge to meet. Many, many children will be spending the night away from home tonight, confined to a hospital bed by tubes and wires, and though Santa may visit them while they are there, undoubtably, they will still feel sad and lonely. It's our goal to change that, if even for just a few seconds. With a big fat sack of knick-knacks for them to choose from, we're going to visit as many children as we can, spreading our love as far as it will stretch. The hospital is only for children, ages 17 and under, and the patients have a variety of illnesses, ranging from diabetes to cancer, and everything in between.
During Laila's stay there, she was showered with gifts-a blanket, toys, coloring books, etc. but not one person came to see her and remind her how strong she was. No one told her how proud of her they were, or that she was in good hands. That's our mission, to remind these strong individuals just how wonderful they are, not just in the eyes of their parents, but others, too.
In addition to these families spending the holidays away from home, are the amazing nurses and doctors treating them. Without them, these special children wouldn't be alive and well! We are visiting them also, spreading our thanks and cheer to everyone spending the day in a stuffy hospital. I remember the days so vividly of visiting my mom on Christmas while she was undergoing chemotherapy treatments, and I never fully understood how she felt. Seeing Laila endure just a few days there, even with bits and pieces of home brought with her, made me realize just how uncomfortable spending time away from home. We are so blessed to have her here with us, home and healthy, and we have God and Phoenix Children's Hospital to thank. Tomorrow, we're going to do just that.
December 16, 2010
Big Boy!
Yesterday, I took lil man to the doctor for his well check and shots. He's just over 4 1/2 months old, but you could never tell by looking at him! He weighed in at a whopping 17.5 pounds and measured at 27 inches long! I went back through Laila and Kenadi's baby books, and neither of them weighed that much until at least 7-9 months! What a little chunker I have!
He did great at the doctor, he's right on track with his milestones. The doctor said he's ok to eat cereal and baby food, whichever he prefers. I tried him on cereal a few times, and he just makes the most awful faces! He's doing great on solids though, I just have to cut him off, because he sure loves to eat! Lucky for me, he' sleeping a solid 10-12 hours a night, sometimes longer! I've literally had to wake him up some days! Just like his daddy!
The hole in his back is doing well too, it's getting more and more shallow each month, and it's high enough above his tailbone there is no need for an ultrasound. Thank God, he's going to be just fine! We also discussed his tongue, he's seriously tongue tied, but since he's able to eat well, there's no need to cut it anytime soon. Once he's starting to talk, it will be an issue, so it will eventually need to be snipped, but not until he's a little bit bigger.
December 12, 2010
Move Along
I truly believe people step in and out of your life at just the right time, even if you don't always know why when it's happening. In my life, friends have come and gone, bridges have been burnt and even rebuilt again, sometimes stronger the second time around. I used to wonder why that is, how things can change and the world keeps turning. Then, I grew up.
When I lived in Saint Joseph, MI, I felt like I was suffocating. I literally felt as though I couldn't breathe, someone was holding my head under water and I couldn't break free. Finally, I was able to move away and start a life as the person I didn't even know I was. The small city I came from, everyone knew me, or about me. They knew my husband, my dad, my sister or brothers. There were expectations, some of them for things I never wanted for myself. So when I moved away, I didn't run from anything, I wasn't looking for a place to hide, rather, a place to blossom. Now that I have moved away, I realize just what I was missing, inside and out.
In the process of moving, I had to leave everything and everyone I knew behind. To say it wasn't easy would be an understatement. I knew I was changing, and it seemed as though good old Saint Joseph was standing still, right along with everyone in it. Unfortunately, for me to grow, I had to move on and move along, and I lost some great people in my life through that journey. I can admit, I wouldn't have changed anything. The reality of things are basic, what you see is what you get. The possibility of figuring out something so simple, yet so profound, without having to move away are slim to none.
The struggles sometimes make me question the worth of the decisions I have made. I have not only uprooted myself, but I have put distance between myself and others that some are not willing to cross. Keep in mind, I don't just mean the miles. Though I know I'm not fully responsible for the strain some of my relationships have experienced, I can't help myself from believing things would have stayed the same if I chose to stay put. However, I couldn't stay, I wouldn't have been myself, or the person I choose to be today.
Over the last few days, I have caught up with friends I thought I'd never speak to again. I found myself opening up about things I would never share with just anyone, and it was comforting. Rebuilding bridges I thought had burned and blown away, or maybe starting from scratch, no matter what you call it, it was nice. Knowing I'm not the only one who has ever felt trapped is a feeling unlike no other. Getting to know myself all over again has given me the opportunity to get to know these others as though they were new people, too. Giving each other time to grow and explore ourselves within has brought out not only who we were, but who we have grown into.
Let us not forget the accomplishemts I've made by moving away. The bonds I've created, the friendships I've made, the time I've been able to spend with my children, these are the opportinuties I live for. I know I wouldn't have been in the position to stay at home full time, buy a house and turn it into a home, or create the memories I have since I moved away. I know I've left a lot behind, but the worry, stress, and discomfort can stay put, I'm not afraid to move along without it.
When I lived in Saint Joseph, MI, I felt like I was suffocating. I literally felt as though I couldn't breathe, someone was holding my head under water and I couldn't break free. Finally, I was able to move away and start a life as the person I didn't even know I was. The small city I came from, everyone knew me, or about me. They knew my husband, my dad, my sister or brothers. There were expectations, some of them for things I never wanted for myself. So when I moved away, I didn't run from anything, I wasn't looking for a place to hide, rather, a place to blossom. Now that I have moved away, I realize just what I was missing, inside and out.
In the process of moving, I had to leave everything and everyone I knew behind. To say it wasn't easy would be an understatement. I knew I was changing, and it seemed as though good old Saint Joseph was standing still, right along with everyone in it. Unfortunately, for me to grow, I had to move on and move along, and I lost some great people in my life through that journey. I can admit, I wouldn't have changed anything. The reality of things are basic, what you see is what you get. The possibility of figuring out something so simple, yet so profound, without having to move away are slim to none.
The struggles sometimes make me question the worth of the decisions I have made. I have not only uprooted myself, but I have put distance between myself and others that some are not willing to cross. Keep in mind, I don't just mean the miles. Though I know I'm not fully responsible for the strain some of my relationships have experienced, I can't help myself from believing things would have stayed the same if I chose to stay put. However, I couldn't stay, I wouldn't have been myself, or the person I choose to be today.
Over the last few days, I have caught up with friends I thought I'd never speak to again. I found myself opening up about things I would never share with just anyone, and it was comforting. Rebuilding bridges I thought had burned and blown away, or maybe starting from scratch, no matter what you call it, it was nice. Knowing I'm not the only one who has ever felt trapped is a feeling unlike no other. Getting to know myself all over again has given me the opportunity to get to know these others as though they were new people, too. Giving each other time to grow and explore ourselves within has brought out not only who we were, but who we have grown into.
Let us not forget the accomplishemts I've made by moving away. The bonds I've created, the friendships I've made, the time I've been able to spend with my children, these are the opportinuties I live for. I know I wouldn't have been in the position to stay at home full time, buy a house and turn it into a home, or create the memories I have since I moved away. I know I've left a lot behind, but the worry, stress, and discomfort can stay put, I'm not afraid to move along without it.
December 10, 2010
Rock On, and Peas Out!
December 9, 2010 little Dustin Jr. tried solid foods for the first time! He wasn't doing too well with the cereal, no matter what the consistency, he just never seemed to like it. The same thing happened with both Laila and Kenadi, so I had a feeling he'd reject it too. Once I opened his first container of food, I unleashed a monster! He was such a good eater, anything that ended up on his face was my fault, and he sure reminded me! He even tried grabbing the spoon a few times to get it into his mouth faster! What a little chunker!
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| First bite! |
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| Nom nom!! |
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| Peas! |
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| Yay for peas! |
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| He loves it! |
Laundry
Yesterday I washed laundry, which I do almost every single day, and today, I had to fold it all. Let me just say this, when I agreed to have children and start a family, I never thought about the amount of work that goes into things I took for granted as a kid! Growing up, my mom did all the laundry, and I swear I never saw her folding it or putting it away! Maybe that's why it never crossed my mind the amount of time I would spend on it when I got older.
When we first moved in together and I was doing all the laundry, Dustin and I only had the apartment washer and dryer to use, so we waited as long as possible to rip through a roll of quarters. I could easily go one to two weeks without washing anything, and never think twice. Now, I do laundry at least 3-4 days a week, sometimes every day! Sundays are the worst, having to wash sheets and blankets for 4 beds, then put them back together again! My back sure doesn't thank me for that on Monday mornings. With the girls sharing a hamper, it fills up fast. Even though they both have closets and drawers full of clothes, Laila's uniforms need to be washed each week for school and she has her favorite shirts she likes to have clean. I wonder if my being so neurotic will ever pay off, my children wear 2 pair of underwear a day-one new pair for during the day and then another new pair after bathtime. Back to where I began, I washed the girls' laundry yesterday, and when I folded it today, this is what I counted: 16 pair of underwear, 4 uniform shirts, 8 pair of pajamas, 5 pair of socks, 11 pair of pants, 4 under shirts, 7 regular shirts, and a few sweatshirts. Seriously, in just a few days 2 little girls can produce that much laundry? I have no idea what I'm in for when they become teenagers!!
Don't even get me started on towels, and how fast I go through those in this house! With everyone showering at least once a day, and never reusing a towel, I easily find myself washing them every other day! We use them so frequently there have even been times where they get used before they ever get folded and into the linen closet! I wonder how in the world other moms out there keep it together! Finding time for laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, and acting like a shuttle service, therapist, doctor and more. Whew, I'm tired just thinking about it!
Now that I've exhausted myself just considering the work I have ahead of me for today, I may just go take a nap.
When we first moved in together and I was doing all the laundry, Dustin and I only had the apartment washer and dryer to use, so we waited as long as possible to rip through a roll of quarters. I could easily go one to two weeks without washing anything, and never think twice. Now, I do laundry at least 3-4 days a week, sometimes every day! Sundays are the worst, having to wash sheets and blankets for 4 beds, then put them back together again! My back sure doesn't thank me for that on Monday mornings. With the girls sharing a hamper, it fills up fast. Even though they both have closets and drawers full of clothes, Laila's uniforms need to be washed each week for school and she has her favorite shirts she likes to have clean. I wonder if my being so neurotic will ever pay off, my children wear 2 pair of underwear a day-one new pair for during the day and then another new pair after bathtime. Back to where I began, I washed the girls' laundry yesterday, and when I folded it today, this is what I counted: 16 pair of underwear, 4 uniform shirts, 8 pair of pajamas, 5 pair of socks, 11 pair of pants, 4 under shirts, 7 regular shirts, and a few sweatshirts. Seriously, in just a few days 2 little girls can produce that much laundry? I have no idea what I'm in for when they become teenagers!!
Don't even get me started on towels, and how fast I go through those in this house! With everyone showering at least once a day, and never reusing a towel, I easily find myself washing them every other day! We use them so frequently there have even been times where they get used before they ever get folded and into the linen closet! I wonder how in the world other moms out there keep it together! Finding time for laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, and acting like a shuttle service, therapist, doctor and more. Whew, I'm tired just thinking about it!
Now that I've exhausted myself just considering the work I have ahead of me for today, I may just go take a nap.
December 04, 2010
December 03, 2010
December 4
I have never done a blog like this before, so please bare with me here. I have so many thoughts running through my mind, I might as well get them down before I rip off my face...so here it goes. I'm not writing this in any sort of order, please excuse my jumbled thoughts (and any inappropriate language), I am just writing what comes from within.
Tomorrow is a very important day, it's my sister's birthday. Dawn, I love you with all of my heart, you are such an inspiration to me, and my life wouldn't be what it is now without you. You mean the world to me, you are stronger than I ever dream of being, and I am proud to call you my sister.
In addition to my sister's birthday, tomorrow also brings back many sorrows and distant memories. December 4 marks the day my mom died, and tomorrow will be 13 years. I remember the days that led up to that moment, thinking my life as I knew it was over. I wouldn't last one more day, one more hour, even one more minute without my mom there. Even if she was incoherent, laying near comatose in a hospital bed-I didn't even care if she knew who I was, I knew who she was and she was there for me. Here I am, 13 years later, and it still pains me to say she's gone. Obviously, my life has continued on, and each day she fades further and further away from me.
This year, the 13th anniversary of her death, is a milestone I thought I'd never reach. The decisions I've made in my life almost ensured at one point that I wouldn't, but after pulling my head out of the clouds, I realized I have much more to live for than what I've lost. This year, this 13th year, starts the beginning of another time. I was 13 when my mom died, and it's now been 13 years. Half of my life has passed me by without her, and now my time without her will outnumber the time we spent together.
I'm not kidding myself, she was long gone before she actually died. She was sick, tired, and wilting away before my eyes, and I hated every second of it. I have memories, though few, of her laying there without recognition of who I am or why I was there. Do you have any idea how it feels to walk into a room and try to kiss your mother hello, and her not even open her eyes? She was a shell, she didn't open her eyes or talk to me, and there were times I swore I didn't see her breathing. Does anyone out there really know what it's like to be told your mom is going to die, and just be expected to act as though things are normal as can be? I do, and it fucking sucks. It really, really sucks. She lost everything in that hospital, her voice, her sweet smell, her pride and dignity. And honestly, I hate her for it. I hate that she gave up. She made choices that landed her right where she was, and for the life of me, I don't get it. Wasn't I important enough to want to live for? Was not going to the doctor more important than seeing me grow up? It pisses me off how selfish she was, but all the hate I have for her, it doesn't change the fact that she's still dead. Fucking dead. Damn it.
To me, she was never really there to begin with. Her spirit was long gone before her body ever was. I remember every stinking holiday, up at the hospital. My sister and I even made cookies for the staff on Thanksgiving and blew up a hospital glove to look like a turkey. Lame. It was a cute idea, and everyone loved it-the lame part is that we had to do it in the first place. Christmas, Valentine's Day, you name it, she was there. Maybe it was a blessing, it was preparation for the rest of my life without her.
My mom was in the hospital for 1 week at a time, and home for 3. She would spend 2 1/2 of the 3 weeks she was home recovering, and the last few days preparing to go through it all over again. Again with the selfishness, maybe from both of us. I was so mad at her for being in that smelly, repulsive place that I would spend almost all of my time there in the "waiting room" doing puzzles or pretending I didn't care. Maybe then I didn't, but now, I sure as hell wish I did.
I don't have many memories of her, to be honest. I spent so much time blocking her out of my mind, now I want her back and I have nothing to bring back. Not the sound of her voice, the feel of her hair, of the way she held me when I was scared. When I was scared, she couldn't hold me, or console me. She was why I was scared, cancer was why I was scared.
I always thought my mom and I would be best friends, she would take me shopping for my first prom dress, talk to me about love, and be my rock on my wedding day. I always imagined us baking cakes and shopping like good old friends, going out for lunch and gossiping about people's shoes and hairstyles. We would look through old photos together and laugh at the memories we made. None of that has come true, not even close. I have a handful of old photos, and I'm not in most. We never made it out to lunch, and my prom wasn't even in sight when she died. I got married, had children, all without her next to me.
Good thing she's with me instead.
I love you, mom.
Tomorrow is a very important day, it's my sister's birthday. Dawn, I love you with all of my heart, you are such an inspiration to me, and my life wouldn't be what it is now without you. You mean the world to me, you are stronger than I ever dream of being, and I am proud to call you my sister.
In addition to my sister's birthday, tomorrow also brings back many sorrows and distant memories. December 4 marks the day my mom died, and tomorrow will be 13 years. I remember the days that led up to that moment, thinking my life as I knew it was over. I wouldn't last one more day, one more hour, even one more minute without my mom there. Even if she was incoherent, laying near comatose in a hospital bed-I didn't even care if she knew who I was, I knew who she was and she was there for me. Here I am, 13 years later, and it still pains me to say she's gone. Obviously, my life has continued on, and each day she fades further and further away from me.
This year, the 13th anniversary of her death, is a milestone I thought I'd never reach. The decisions I've made in my life almost ensured at one point that I wouldn't, but after pulling my head out of the clouds, I realized I have much more to live for than what I've lost. This year, this 13th year, starts the beginning of another time. I was 13 when my mom died, and it's now been 13 years. Half of my life has passed me by without her, and now my time without her will outnumber the time we spent together.
I'm not kidding myself, she was long gone before she actually died. She was sick, tired, and wilting away before my eyes, and I hated every second of it. I have memories, though few, of her laying there without recognition of who I am or why I was there. Do you have any idea how it feels to walk into a room and try to kiss your mother hello, and her not even open her eyes? She was a shell, she didn't open her eyes or talk to me, and there were times I swore I didn't see her breathing. Does anyone out there really know what it's like to be told your mom is going to die, and just be expected to act as though things are normal as can be? I do, and it fucking sucks. It really, really sucks. She lost everything in that hospital, her voice, her sweet smell, her pride and dignity. And honestly, I hate her for it. I hate that she gave up. She made choices that landed her right where she was, and for the life of me, I don't get it. Wasn't I important enough to want to live for? Was not going to the doctor more important than seeing me grow up? It pisses me off how selfish she was, but all the hate I have for her, it doesn't change the fact that she's still dead. Fucking dead. Damn it.
To me, she was never really there to begin with. Her spirit was long gone before her body ever was. I remember every stinking holiday, up at the hospital. My sister and I even made cookies for the staff on Thanksgiving and blew up a hospital glove to look like a turkey. Lame. It was a cute idea, and everyone loved it-the lame part is that we had to do it in the first place. Christmas, Valentine's Day, you name it, she was there. Maybe it was a blessing, it was preparation for the rest of my life without her.
My mom was in the hospital for 1 week at a time, and home for 3. She would spend 2 1/2 of the 3 weeks she was home recovering, and the last few days preparing to go through it all over again. Again with the selfishness, maybe from both of us. I was so mad at her for being in that smelly, repulsive place that I would spend almost all of my time there in the "waiting room" doing puzzles or pretending I didn't care. Maybe then I didn't, but now, I sure as hell wish I did.
I don't have many memories of her, to be honest. I spent so much time blocking her out of my mind, now I want her back and I have nothing to bring back. Not the sound of her voice, the feel of her hair, of the way she held me when I was scared. When I was scared, she couldn't hold me, or console me. She was why I was scared, cancer was why I was scared.
I always thought my mom and I would be best friends, she would take me shopping for my first prom dress, talk to me about love, and be my rock on my wedding day. I always imagined us baking cakes and shopping like good old friends, going out for lunch and gossiping about people's shoes and hairstyles. We would look through old photos together and laugh at the memories we made. None of that has come true, not even close. I have a handful of old photos, and I'm not in most. We never made it out to lunch, and my prom wasn't even in sight when she died. I got married, had children, all without her next to me.
Good thing she's with me instead.
I love you, mom.
4 months
4 months have come and gone, and I can hardly believe it! My son, my baby, isn't really a baby anymore. He has made so many accomplishments, and each one is bittersweet. I know he will be my last baby, and I want him to stay tiny forever, but I look forward to seeing him grow and blossom right along with the girls. We celebrated his first Thanksgiving this past month, he tasted sweet potatoes and baked beans. What a sweet baby he is, he stays occupied all by himself, he loves sitting in the bumbo seat and playing on his floor mat.
In addition to rolling over like crazy, he has started to scoot-mostly backwards. He tries to eat everything he can get his hands on, including the carpet! It's adorable, he tries to grab it and by the time he gets his hands to his mouth, he realizes they're empty. He has started eating cereal, he loves to eat! Dustin and Dustin Jr. are two peas in a pod, they can both sleep anywhere, anytime, no matter what is going on around them! It's sweet to see them bonding.
The girls absolutely love their baby brother, they shower him with kisses and hugs, help with feedings and diaper changes, and even pick out his clothes for him. Every day is a new adventure, and I think they think of him more as a toy than human! He is such a great baby, he sleeps all night, eats well, smiles, and laughs. I even caught him getting up on his knees yesterday when he was rolling around on the floor! Heaven help me if this boy becomes mobile!
December 02, 2010
Fire Department
Last week a few moms and I decided to take a tour of the local fire department with the kids. What fun! I baked a few dozen cookies, and Mariela made some scones, to get on their good side, and they gave us a tour of the whole department instead of just the truck!
The tour began in the living areas, they showed us the kitchen and the recreational area. They had a pretty sweet tv and some nice recliners! The fire fighters explained to us they work a 48 hour shift, which means sleeping at the station. They made sure to point out each shift has their own pantry with a lock on it, apparently they have to hide their food! We then got to take a peek at one of the rooms, equipped with 3 lockers, each with their own lock. They turned the lights off and did a demonstration of a call tone for us, they lights came on and the wall has a scrolling marquee on it that lit up to show the call type and which truck will be taken.
Next, the fun was about to begin! We went outside to check out the ladder truck and all of it's neat gadgets. The fire fighters were really great with the kids, they showed us the inside of the truck, the hoses, and even turned the lights on for us! Here are a few snap shots from the fun we had:
The tour began in the living areas, they showed us the kitchen and the recreational area. They had a pretty sweet tv and some nice recliners! The fire fighters explained to us they work a 48 hour shift, which means sleeping at the station. They made sure to point out each shift has their own pantry with a lock on it, apparently they have to hide their food! We then got to take a peek at one of the rooms, equipped with 3 lockers, each with their own lock. They turned the lights off and did a demonstration of a call tone for us, they lights came on and the wall has a scrolling marquee on it that lit up to show the call type and which truck will be taken.
Next, the fun was about to begin! We went outside to check out the ladder truck and all of it's neat gadgets. The fire fighters were really great with the kids, they showed us the inside of the truck, the hoses, and even turned the lights on for us! Here are a few snap shots from the fun we had:
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| City of Maricopa Ladder Truck |
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| F.D. Maricopa |
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| Lights on! |
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| Kenadi and Paxston |
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| L-R Aidan, Giada, Kenadi, Paxston |
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| T571 City of Maricopa FD |
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