Kiss my a$$

You know there comes a point in everyone's life when you reach a breaking point.  I've reached mine a time or six.  Today as I was criticized yet again as I was being pulled in the eighty eighth direction it hit me that I have just had enough.  I don't need this shit.  It's obviously not enough that I am doing the absolute best that I can given the situations that I am in so since I clearly suck so bad at how I am handling them I am now formally handing over the reins.  Yep this is me saying it's all you, thanks for being a jack wagon, and kick my ass.

For all those who think going off to your fancy pants job is tough and us stay at home moms is just a walk in the park, you can kiss my ass too.  I've never busted my ass harder.  I don't get paid, I don't get a sick day, hell I can't even pee without an audience.  So next time you want to say to me "oh you don't have to work tomorrow, you get to stay home with your kids" expect me to slap you in the mouth.

For those who think you're better than me just because you have a job to go to and I don't, you can kiss my ass too.  We all shit the same way sweetheart, and it stinks just the same....Don't think yours smells any sweeter.  I'm not, not working because I'm lazy or don't want to.  I'd LOVE to go to work.  But I have medical issues that prevent me from doing so at the moment.  None of which I need to explain to you.

For those who come over to my home and are offended because there are a few toys on my floor in the living room guess what you can kiss my ass too.  I've already picked up the floor 27 times but the kids are just going to keep taking crap out until they go to bed, and why shouldn't they?  It's their home.  I know it's clean, they know it's clean, and when they go to bed, I'll pick it up for the 28th time, so if it bothers you, don't come over.

Finally, if you're reading this and you can't tell already that I'm pissed off, here's a clue, I'm freaking pissed off.  It's obviously not enough that I take care of my children and my home, currently I'm helping my mom out who just had surgery which I'm happy to do, she's been there for me through all of my surgeries.  But here's the kicker if you know I'm stressed out you might not want to come around running your mouth about stupid shit that is going to piss me off, because that just starts a chain reaction and then all hell breaks loose.

I'm tired of wearing 75 hats at the same time and getting the "didn't you get to that today?" question when my husband gets home.  Or "why couldn't she get that done?" question from a family member.  Here's your answer....kiss my ass.  Everything else got done and everyone is healthy and happy, well almost everyone....

END RANT

This is not me....

I sit here filling out this paper work, this packet, this novel of paper work attempting to prove to some stranger who I don't know all the turmoil I've been through this past year and how for the first time I have to admit that I need help.  This is not me....

I am embarrassed.  I am ashamed.  I am stronger than this.  I am not this person who wants to sit around all day long wondering when I am going to feel good enough to get up and go.  Some days are better than others and I can get up off the chair and do things, others it's just not going to happen.  This is not me....

I have to prove to someone, someone I don't know that I am actually broken.  Broken enough that I can't handle taking care of myself enough to get up and go to work.  So now I'm lazy, ignorant, irresponsible.  This is not me....

These questions are repulsive, who can help me prove that I am disabled?  Really?  No I am not disabled, men and women who fight for their country and lost limbs, vital organs, their lives and have nothing for their loved ones left behind, they deserve this money I don't.  The hero's who run into burning buildings or risk their lives rescuing people from raging waters or stunts gone wrong knowing full well that the people they love dearly may wake up tomorrow without them here, they deserve the help.  This is not me....

To have people look at me, make comments to me, "you look just fine", "you're so young", "this is how you want to live forever?"  No.  This is not me....

I want to take care of my children and right now asking for help is the only thing I can do.  It's humiliating to ask the government to look at me as a disabled person because on the outside, no I don't "look the part."  On the inside, I'm dying.  I can't jump out of bed, get ready and go.  I have to prep myself to lift my body out of bed.  I have to get up the strength to get down on the floor to play with my kids.  Do you know how hard that is?  Do you know what it's like to have your child look at you and ask you to play and then apologize to you because they know you can't but they just want you to play "like you used to".  Do you know what it's like to look at them and wish "this is not me?!"

It's heartbreaking to look at yourself in the mirror and think you are worth more dead than you are alive.  It's horrifying to know that at a ripe age when everyone else around you gets to experience all the fun things you were supposed to do you have to turn to someone else and ask them to do it...with YOUR CHILDREN.  And when you see their beautiful happy faces having the time of their lives you know it's NOT WITH YOU.

So do me a solid on this one, stop looking down on people when they ask for help.  It's hard enough to prove to myself that I can't do it alone, let alone to a perfect stranger.  I have a goal to not be labeled disabled and there is nothing wrong with being disabled, by no means am I saying that.  I want to go back to work and be the mom I was before all this shit happened.  I want to go back to playing horsey with my kids and running around outside with them.  I HATE having to apply for disability because I am taking it away from someone else who did something to at least be proud of who they are and not be ashamed.    I am ashamed, because this is not me.

It's not about being proud, it's not about being weak, it's not about asking for help.  I've always been that girl who I swore would teach my children that I would be here for them no matter what.  What good am I now? I can't even have the fun they need me to have with them.  I can't prove to be the mom they deserve.  And that is not me....

Small town bull**t

A lot of good memories are in this country girl's mind when I think back to the good old days.  It's nice to take a walk down memory lane sometimes when I'm sitting around my mom's place and watching the sky, or walking around the field.  I think back to the days before responsibility, when the biggest decision was figuring out who's house to hang out at on the weekend.

Tonight on the way home I got caught up in a flashback to the parties in the woods, and the bonfires, all the good times (which usually led to some bad decisions), peeling out down the back roads,  all the things I loved about the country.

I was so many different people growing up.  I always tried to "fit it" with the crowd that I happened to be with in the moment.  I got along with most people but I had a handful of good friends and a boatload of acquaintances that I just chilled with.

I was a band geek, a cheerleader, a partier, a nice girl, a bitch, and everything in between. I was always felt like I needed to be somewhere in the middle, never at the head of the group but never at the back.  I didn't want the attention, but I didn't want to be left out.  Of course who the hell knows what persona I actually put out there.

Most people didn't know what I really did at night or on the weekends.  As with most small towns it didn't matter what REALLY happened it only mattered as to what the rumor mill was turning out and there was no point fighting that....it turns no matter what.

The hard part about being from a small country town besides having nothing to do if there were no parties on the weekends was trying to find that middle ground where you could be friends with all your friends and not leave anyone out or feel bad about being yourself.

It's something to this day I have apparently not mastered.  I miss those days where I could just sit next to some friends around a bonfire and shoot the shit and there be no bullshit.  I don't understand how we have grown up and yet there is still all this small town bullshit.

Why can't friends just be friends?  Why are there always these petty little games?  I always had more guy friends than girl friends (enter the rumor mill here) because I just don't do petty shit.

As soon as I could I left the small town I grew up in to get away from all the bs and yet it has found me once again.  So how do I escape it?  Does it ever go away?  Doubt it.

Going back home I try as hard as I can not to drive through what I call the smallest town in the land. Sometimes I feel like I had to escape. I needed to spread my wings and reinvent myself.  I do miss some of the old me though and when I go home even though it's not far away I feel like I can get some of that part me back.

I think about spending my days with the best people I could ever have hoped to meet, and some of the worst.  I think about sneaking out at night to meet up with some friends and hang out.  I remember being so bored and waiting to get the hell out of there and then blinking and it was over.

Small town life has it's ups and downs.  Looking back I would do a lot of things differently.  I'm not sad I left and I'm very happy with where I am now.  I wish some of the bullshit didn't follow me or catch up with me but that's everywhere you go.  I have some great people in my life and even better I have the memories of the adventures we had.  Sometimes in life the memories are just going to have to be enough.

The story behind the photo....

So many people see this photo and think this is just an ordinary photo of a woman holding her newborn baby, she is obviously tired and while you are looking at the photo you may assume the feelings behind the tiredness are that of overwhelming joy and gratitude.  While these feelings were there what you wouldn't think of is that this woman and her new baby are also having what would be one of their many harshest bonding moments together.  This beautiful little boy if left in-utero for only one more day would not have survived and this woman nearly didn't make it through the delivery and post delivery of this most precious baby.  So in this moment this mommy and her baby are not only getting to know one another but are also preparing for what could be their only moments together.  How do I know? This woman is me, and that precious little boy is my son Brian.

While this little bundle of joy was in the midst of being born (via c-section) and I was laying on the operating table I remember the nurses telling me he was a miracle baby.  I thought "what the hell is she talking about, the baby is fine, I am the one in trouble here.  For Christ sake you just asked my mother which one of us she wanted you to save."  (which went over really well with her by the way.)  I looked up at my husband and he looked at me and said "Don't worry he's ok".  Apparently the cord was wrapped around his neck and it only had 2 vessels which explained why his heart rate decelerated the night before.  But once I heard him crying then I started to cry, I knew he was good so I could relax a little, they brought him around to see me and oh my was he tiny, 5lbs 15oz.  He was so small, but he was healthy and that's all that mattered.

All the sudden things went south and fast, I heard "her blood pressure is rising, it's time to close".  I thought "no shit, I want off this damn table anyway."  The Dr. was telling me that I needed to calm down and take deep breaths.  Take deep breaths?  He could see my damn diaphragm...I was breathing deep, I couldn't feel a damn thing so I was doing my best.

They told Tom to take the baby and go wait in recovery, and with that a nurse escorted them out.  I remember thinking that may very well be the last time I ever see them.  I started to cry once again.  I just closed my eyes and an incredibly sweet nurse came to my side and held my hand and stroked my forehead and told me it would be ok.  I heard the Dr. say to the nurse "we have to hurry or she'll stroke out on the table."  "Great". I thought.  "Just fantastic".

Somehow I made it out of the operating room.  I've never been so happy to get to recovery.  I saw Tom and Brian and I just lost it.I couldn't wait to hold my baby.  I took him in my arms and that's what you see above. The Dr. said "It's going to be a waiting game now.  You need to be monitored and watched CAREFULLY. Anything can happen."

The next few days Brian and I spent a lot of time together.  I never put him down unless I had to.  We talked a lot.  I told him all about all the things I wanted for him.  I told him how happy I was that he was a part of my life and even if I wasn't able to be around for him physically, I would always be there for him in his heart. I was so scared he would never know me.  I was terrified I wouldn't make it and I would leave my daughter and now my newborn son behind.

I am not an overly religious person but I prayed a lot over the next few weeks, and I know a lot of other people did too.  I begged for the chance to stay and raise my children, no matter what battles I would have to face, I would do whatever I needed to so I could be a part of my children's lives.

I was back and forth to the hospital and for a while I was in a lot of trouble.  I was on mag bags and lots of what we'll call suck-ass I.V drips.  My BP reached levels of 240/145 which in most cases would lead to strokes and death but somehow I made it.

I cried a lot, I had to leave my kids at home with family and believe me, I fought kicking and screaming so much so my OBGYN actually told me "I wish you were at 6 weeks post op so you weren't my patient anymore, you scare the hell out of me."  Thanks.  That means a lot.

To this day no one has an answer for what the hell happened to me during or after I gave birth with either of my kids but especially after I had Brian.  I was given a less than 20% chance to make it through the delivery and it went down from there day by day but here I am today, writing this.

And today is my son's 4th Birthday :)  Happy Birthday baby boy <3

And he and I can say we both survived quite and ordeal the day he was born and from that day forward. But I would do it all over again for both of my kids.  I just love them so much.

Idle Chitchat; major impact

Yesterday afternoon my son and I had a "date".  We went to Target and of course he "hurt" himself and so the only thing that would make him feel better was a new toy.  So seeing that it's his birthday next week I gave in and got him a Ninja Turtle toy and made our way around the store.  He and I laughed all the way around the store.  He is usually the kid who yells in the store, but yesterday he was really good.  We checked out all the Halloween decorations and made our way to the checkout.  Even the cashier commented on how well behaved he was and gave him a sticker.

When we got to the car I asked if he wanted to go to McDonald's and have some lunch with me.  Of course that was a definite YES!  We went inside to eat which made him so excited because the Nintendo games were inside.

When we got inside there was quite the line so we made our way to the end of it and patiently waited our turn.  Brian was clinging to my leg, and telling me he loved me which caught the attention of the gentleman in front of me.  He kept smiling at us and saying how cute it was and how well behaved Brian was.  I politely said "Thank You" and we went about our waiting. We made idle chitchat to pass the time and of course Brian was the center of attention.

Brian caught the eyes of a sweet little girl who was standing behind us who was about the same age and they were doing the little kid flirt thing which I thought was adorable.  And the gentleman in front of us saw a girl across the restaurant who was wearing nothing but fishnet stockings and a long shirt.  I looked at Brian and said "If you ever bring home a girl like that I will beat you."  And he laughed and said "I'm gonna!"  Which of course made the gentleman in front of us laugh again.

As the line moved we made our way up to order and then proceeded to wait again for our food to be made (or microwaved).  The gentleman in front of us turned to me and said "They grow up so fast, that's why I keep smiling at you and your boy, this age is so sweet, enjoy it." I replied "I love it." He pulled out his phone and  showed me a photo of a very handsome boy in his cap and gown at his high school graduation. He said "This is my oldest."  "He's very handsome." I said He replied "He would've been 21....." My heart sank.  He continued "He was killed in a car accident on October 30th." I told him how sorry I was for his loss as he put his phone away.  He thanked me and smiled.  I didn't know what else to say, I wasn't expecting that.

He was so upbeat and playful with Brian and I and even picking on the girl with the fishnet stockings....I guess it just never dawned on me that something so tragic could've happened to this man.  I stood there staring at him wishing there was something I do for him, and yet at the same moment I saw the strength in this man that he is still going on with his life, I'm sure it's the hardest thing in the world, but he's doing it.

We both got our food and went to our tables and I sat with Brian and played but I was so heartbroken for that man, who was sitting 3 tables away, all alone and missing his son.  I wanted to go over and say something to him, but I didn't know him and I didn't know what to say.  I just felt so bad for him.

He finished before we did.  He got up told us to have a nice lunch, and we smiled and said thank you and wished him the same and off he went.  Brian and I finished our lunch and we left and headed home.  I called my mom and told her what happened.  There was a reason I met that man, maybe he put everything into perspective for me.  Maybe watching Brian made him happy if only for a moment.  I don't know what the reason, but he definitely made an impact and I really hope that he and his family are doing ok.  I can't imagine losing a child.  I know I couldn't handle it.  I would just crumble to pieces.  I give that man and his family all the credit in the world for going on with their lives.  God bless them.