Monday, December 17, 2012

"You Worry too Much!"

(Note: This blog was written over a week and a half ago, and I forgot to hit publish.  It seems more fitting that I find this out today and more appropriate that it gets published now.)

That's what my 16 year old son said to me, "You worry to much!".  He was referring to himself and his siblings.  They complain I never let them go out, never let them hang out with friends and they honestly just don't understand why I don't want them wandering around neighborhoods or parks. 

Here are some statistics for OUR neighborhood.  There are 29 'registered' sexual offenders in a one mile radius of my house and 125 offenders in a 5 mile radius.  They don't get this?  One is more than enough to make my skin crawl, this many is ridiculous.  I stress from the time they walk to their bus stop until I can breathe a sigh of relief when they get home.  Bad people exist in the world and I know I am not prepared for them, so I definitely know my teens aren't either, no matter how 'bad' they think they are!

Times are different from when I was a child/teenager.  My parents worried about underage drinking and pot.  I have to worry about drinking, pot, ecstasy, cocaine (yes, it was around in the 80s but I have never to this day seen cocaine with my own eyes!), huffing, meth, pain killers, crack and a whole lot more I know I am forgetting.  I did do underage drinking and I know at some point they will as well, I just pray they never touch the other stuff listed.  They wonder why I worry?  How about 4 gunshots in my neighborhood over a 3 day period, 1 one night and 3 another.  I live in a tiny town (we aren't even considered a city, as we've never been incorporated as one, we, last I knew, were considered a village) that has really bottomed out as a nice place.  It's drug haven.  It's a retirement town, but why people would want to retire to this hell hole is beyond me!  I want out.  I don't want my baby raised in this mecca of pill-pushing, child-molesting, gun shooting idiots.

Don't EVER tell a mother to not worry.  It's our God given right from the time we first learn we are pregnant until we take our last breath.  Yes, I will be worrying about you when you are on your own, married and with your own children making you crazy.  I bestow the parental curse upon your heads:  May you spawn children that are exactly like you!

When you hear them tell you to 'not worry', maybe, just maybe, my words will click in that head of yours.  This world is NO LONGER SAFE and it getting much, much worse. 

I love you, you are my babies and it's my job to protect you.  I'm sorry, the words 'over-protective' aren't in my vocabulary, I don't understand them.  Stop using them.  I will shield you when I can from what can or will harm you and pray when I am not their to do so.

Stop asking about certain things, you are not going to do them, period.  I won't give an inch if I feel your safety is compromised in any way.  I could never imagine, nor do I want to attempt to imagine, every losing one of you.

Author's Addendum:

This was written before the horrific act on 12-14-2012.  I was gutted, horrified, and really, really needed my children home that day.  It could happen any where at any time.  I wish I had the solution so I could sleep better at night knowing my children are safe at their school, but I don't.  It's the one place we count on to be semi-safe for them, especially at the elementary age.  This has made me pause and contemplate home schooling my youngest.  I am just not sure I want to deny her the privilege of socializing with her peers. 

I swear if I hear that I worry too much again pour from their teen lips, I am going to rip them right off. 
Don't worry, I am pretty sure they grow back, like Daffy Duck's bill, or something!

Hug your kids, tell them you love them, worry about them.  Never take for granted one second with them, for tragedies occur all the time. 

Pray for those families, every person in Newtown, because they ALL were affected, WE all were affected.   This will weigh on my brain for a very long time.  This will affect how I raise my kids forever.

I fear we have only begun to see what ugliness this world has in store for us.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Standing on My Soapbox

  Please forgive the following rant.  Actually, no, don't.  Hate me, disown me, applaud me, I really don't care what your opinion is about what I am going to say.

I have been loathing FaceBook lately.  There is so much whining going on!  Yes, I have done my share but NOT for the same reasons.

I don't want to hear you whine about your damn job.  You should be thankful you have one in the first place.  You are aware of the unemployment rate, correct?  I know several people that would be thankful to take that job from you and do it with a smile on their face, without complaint.  Be thankful you are healthy enough to have a job as well, several people in this country are disabled and cannot work at a job, and they probably would trade their life for yours any given day of the week.

I'm so sorry your car repair was $500.  A little gratitude that you can afford car repairs AND a car would be nice to see instead of the bitching. 

Who cares if you are single!  You can be fabulous AND single!  You don't need a woman/man to make you complete.  Sure, it's always nice to have a companion, but you don't need one.  The right person will come along when it's the right time.  If they never do?  You really didn't need some one..  Pat yourself on the back, you did life solo and you were amazing at it!

Oh, so you are spending too much on Christmas?  Budget yourself!  There are some of us that won't be spending anything this year, or next year possibly, due to this economy.  Hell, could be the next four years!  No one knows.  Set a limit and stick to it.  I am sure that computer from last year still works and you really don't need to purchase a new one.  Your children won't remember every gift they receive, they will remember the time you spent with them, however.  Which will go farther with them in their lifetime?

For once in your self-centered lives, think of the less fortunate.  The family looking for shelter on cold nights, the single mother working double shifts to put a few gifts under her tree, the couple that was just laid off right before the holidays, the man that has been unable to find a job through no fault of his own, the family that lost a family member recently, the sole provider that has an illness... I could go on and on, but you get the point.  All I see is people complaining over empty shit when there are REAL problems in the world.  REAL people affected by these issues are shaking their head at you and just don't have the balls to say anything.  Mine are brass, thank you.  I will remind you of your needless spending when the Toys 4 Tots drive is here, I will poke you when the soup kitchens run low on food and I will ask that you carry ONE BAG.  You have never heard of ONE BAG?  Look it up, it's so easy to do and really makes a difference in one person's life. 

Thank you, I am now stepping down.  Proceed to pelt me with stick and stones...

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

The Depression Depot...All Aboard!

My post about depression brought in the greatest numbers of readers I have ever seen.  I don't feel so all alone now.  I am not riding solo on this crazy train, which is comforting at the same time it is sobering.  I am disheartened that so many others suffer from the ultimate sadness ever known.

This is an update to my mind's working as I type.

I am far better. 

I look out and see blue skies instead of seeing skies the color of old black and white movies.  I see the sun shining and appreciate the bright yellow of it's warming glow.  I no longer want to run and hide like Count Dracula when Sol makes his appearance in the early morn.

I can take a deep breath and exhale and not regret it.

I don't weep at every little thing and I can now arise from my bed with purpose (when my muscles allow). 

Food has flavor once more, my children's laughter is even more contagious that it ever has been.

I did not get this way alone.  I sought help.  I take medicine. 

Please don't say to your dear ones, "Snap out of it!"  Time does not heal everything.  There are moments in our lives where we are not strong enough to go it without professional help.  Would you tell someone with a ruptured appendix to snap out of it?  Depression is a medical condition AND a life threatening one if not treated.

Thank God I had a great support system and the knowledge to do what had to be done.  Damn the stigma!  Who cares what people think when it comes to your physical and mental health.  You must take care of yourself, no one will do it for you.

Again, I beseech you, if you know of some one suffering, talk to them.

If you feel like they are a danger to themselves then call National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Life is worth living, trust me.


Monday, November 12, 2012

The Spider and the Chief

  As I have said in the past, my writing sometimes comes in the form of dreams.  I dreamt of a fable, so bear with me.  I have never written a fable before, but the dream was clearly one.  I am no Aesop, just a tiny warning.

The Spider and the Chief

In a tiny village there lived a great Chief and his loyal tribe.  They were a peaceful race, full of love and happiness.  Despite their shortage of food, they thrived with smiles on their faces and minds filled with stories of the Great Spirits.  They had only one enemy, the Queen spider and her army of workers.  One bite would take the life of his precious kinsmen, and send them on a journey to meet with the Old Ones.

Summer was nearly over and it was time for the tribe to start storing food.  The scarce supply they had would last only a week, maybe two.  It was time to go out in to the deep forest to see if they could reach the berries. 

The purple and blue berries carried a magnificent perfume and their taste was other-worldly.  The Chief said they were the "ambrosia of the Great Spirits".   They were high in the tree tops and it was very rare when one would drop and be retrieved by a tribe member, for the forest they were in was spider territory.  The Queen was not one to share her special treasure of the berries, they were hers and hers alone.  She would send her army out to bite any human that dare attempt to steal her fruit. 

One day, as the spiders were gathering the berries, they were attacked.  High in the canopies of the trees lived the Great Bird.  He had been watching the spiders for weeks and decided he would now make his move.  He picked off several of her little soldiers and happily snacked on them, screeching out his pride to his flock.  They too, moved in to feast with him, smiling as they devoured their prey.

The Queen was outraged!  They were too fast to bite, too strong to fight and could fly away so very easily.  She had to think of something to save her family.

As the moon opened it's eyes upon the land, the Chief heard a very small voice.  "Oh, wise Chief, please hear and honor my request."   The chief looked around and could not see what was speaking to him.  "Down here, on the floor before you!"  The chief looked down and before him were 20 spiders, with the Queen in the front.  "Dear Chief, I feel we have been wrong to your clan.  My army has bitten many of your men and I have come to ask for forgiveness."  The chief gazed down upon the tiny spiders, unsure of the menacing creatures.  The medicine man would not be fooled by such trickery.  "Do not listen to evil tongues, Mighty Chief!  She is surely lying!"  The chief held his hand out to the medicine man and looked at the Queen and spoke, "What is it you want from us, tiny ruler?"

The Queen stepped aside as part of her army brought forth three very small pies.  "Dear Chief, I have brought you lovely pies of berries as a peace offering.  I only ask that you help rid us of our enemies, the Great Bird and his people."

"Do not eat these pies, Mighty Chief!" spoke the medicine man.  "She has obviously put her venom in them and is trying to send us to the Old Ones!"  The chief picked up a pie and took a small bite.  A smile crossed his lips, "These are very delicious.  I once had a berry when I was a child and I had forgotten how wonderful they were."  The medicine man cried out "NO! What have you done?  You have now just committed yourself to a life with the Old Ones!" 

"Old friend", said the chief, "The Queen is a wise one.  If she were to poison me, no doubt you and the other men would have stepped on her and her army, killing them instantly.  I have no fear of poison being in these pies.  She is truthful.  How may we be of service, tiny ruler?"

"I have a proposition, Dear Chief, bring your men to the forest so that they may protect my workers as we gather berries.  You will have plenty to eat as the Great Bird and his people are large and juicy.  You will not only have the tender meat of the birds, but we can never eat the amount of berries we harvest before the next bloom, so we will share those with you also."  The Mighty Chief pondered this request of the Queen. "You will no longer bite my people?"  "Oh no, Dear Chief, your people and my people will work in harmony from this day forward, so that we may also thrive as well as you."

The chief nodded in agreement.  The very next day, the tribesmen were off to the deep part of the forest.  The Great Bird and his family were no match for the skill in which the natives used their arrows.  They fell easily and the spiders rejoiced.  They were able to work at such a great speed without having to worry about being gobbled up, that they gathered much more berries than they could carry.  Berries were raining down upon the chief's tribe like the Great Spirits were blessing them.  The spiders happily crawled home and the tribe gathered up the birds and berries and were prepared for the winter, both having achieved their goals.  They lived in harmony together for many, many years, each giving and taking to make life pleasurable.

Even mortal enemies can come together, for the greater good of all.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Green Eggs and Ham

  Welcome to the 1st annual Green Eggs and Ham awards!

Why are they called this?  Well, they represent me!  My green, chemo eggs and my hammy personality, my dad was Sam and my twins were born on Dr. Seuss' birthday.  Now you are catching on!

These awards are to honor those people in my life that have supported, helped, inspired and impacted my life from diagnoses to this last year of remission. IF you were not mentioned, you have just been over-looked by mistake.  Send me a message like, "Dammit Wendy, remember how I did.... "  and I will edit this award show. Don't mince words, don't be offended, just message or call.  No one is INTENTIONALLY left out. 

Best All Around Support System-  Damon Stickney, Barb Chandler and Stacey Mabry.  Thank you for constantly being there not only for me, but for the children as well.  It doesn't matter what the request is, if you can honor it, you will, no questions asked.  You are the most giving and loyal friends and I greatly appreciate all of you.  I just don't say it enough and I really should.  I love you all.

Best in Inspiration- three-way tie!  Bruce C. Rosenberg, Renee Heidtman, and Kristen Johnston.  Bruce, you inspired me to continue the fight and to enjoy every moment life has to offer, and for that sir, I honor you daily.  You amazed me and your memory will last for all eternity.  Rest in Peace sweet friend.  Renee Heidtman, you inspire me daily.  Your fight and strength, grace and enthusiasm during a dark time is mesmerizing.  Kristen, you have saved so many with your book, GUTS and continue to inspire by example.  You lit a fire under my butt, with your words, so that I may share my darkness and try to follow in your foot-steps.  You start charities that are so very important (SLAM), and tell it like it is.  What an honorable trait!  Helping people is so gratifying and I thank you.  You all are loved by this girl.

Best in Humor and Support-  Reina Phillips.  Thank you Reina, for showing me what a pair of nuts we are in this pea-pod built for two.  You are my sista from another mista and I love you.  Thank you for taking care of my family when I couldn't. 

Best in Strength- Julie Rosenberg.  Lady, you never cease to amaze me.  You 'Berg women certainly know how to get up and out during the most difficult of times.  I so admire you for standing tall despite what you have gone through.  I draw from that strength and hope I can be as strong as you one day.  Love you.

Best in Love- 5 way tie!  This award is shared among Scott, Seth, Tabitha, Addison and Serenity.  My love for you and your love in return has been just the medicine I really needed.  Never forget how much I love and appreciate all you do for you mother.  I treasure every second we have together.

Best Entertainment-  The Pit Crew.  Thank you for all the laughter.  It was all of you that made me giggle through tears, laugh through pain and remain strong in our bond for one very special man.  What an amazing group of people you are and I am truly honored to have been a part of this with you.  Much love and Unicorn farts.

Best in Long Distance Support-  Sheelagh Smyth. I have never quite told you how much you have meant to this family.  You totally saved this family when we were desperate and saw no hope in sight.  You are there with your humor, hope, friendship and french fry penises and we love you.  May the Money Fairy rain constant showers of money and good fortune upon your head.

Best in Guidance- Claudia Armstrong.  My sister, my friend and my own personal "Dear Abby".  Her advice and wisdom comforted me and led me to a better place in life.  I love you, big sister.  I wouldn't trade you for all the world.  I am so glad and proud to call you sister, but even more proud to say you are my friend as well.  We stand tall together, defend each other and if I was given a choice for a sister, I would have picked you.

Best in Food and Drinks-  2 way tie!  Lee Bacon and Jill Timmerman.  Lee and Jill, I will never forget our adventure with fried pickles and crab legs!  I still laugh at that time and it's a favorite memory.  I love you guys dearly and love our Starbucks time together as well, Jilly.  Best friends come and go, but you have been a constant since high school and are more like a sister to me.  Lee... what can I say?  Thanks for the hilarity and loyalty.  The emotional support was amazing and I thank you for that also.

Honorable Mentions- Jimmy Page, Beth and Curtis Nice, Kimberly Rutter Weld, Dacia Houser, April Bradley, Janus Haeussler, Leigh Morphies, Christine Nutile, Sonja Elliott, Crystal Elliott, Desiree Elliott, Tiffany Elliott, Doug Elliott, Wayne and Barb Elliott, Matthew and Nicole Elliott, Gary Elliott, Dale Elliott, Carla Hiltunen, and Cara Shuerman.  I love you all for everything you did, be it support, surprising me before surgery, texts, phone calls, letters, it mattered. YOU mattered.

Thank you to every body listed and many more not listed.  It's been one year since I was diagnosed as "in remission" and I couldn't have reached that point without any of you! 

Monday, November 5, 2012

In the Closet

Bare with me for a few moments and deal with the first paragraph. 

I am a closeted Twilight fan.  Okay, so not too much in the closet as my friends and family know I love it.  I know, I just dropped like a hundred cool points with you, right?  Okay, again, bare with me as to why and continue reading.  Thank you.

Stephanie Meyer took vampirism to a whole new level.  The "sparkling" gimmick that has so many hating these movies is what endears me to them.  She went in a different direction with the vampire legend and for that I respect her.  She's showing individualism.  Good job!  Here's where I get to my mind-blowing thoughts:

How many OTHER legends have been changed over the hundreds of years that we've had the written word? 

Mind blown now?  Mine was.  As I sat and thought about this, my book-loving mind shot to history lessons and classic legends.  Let's say that Homer, while writing The Iliad, changed it up.  Are we sure it was a Trojan HORSE?  What if Homer was sitting there, quill in hand (or scribe in seat next to him) and was like, "No way!  I can't tell this tale the way it went.  Trojan Duck's just aren't cool!  Who sends a duck full of soldiers,anyway?  Egad, I must make this better than real.  HORSES!  YES! Women LOVE horses!"  Thus began the legend as we know it, the Trojan Horse.  What about Paul Bunyan and Babe, the big blue ox?  What if he was a real man?  He could have been larger than the average size of ,men at the time, inspiring someone to write about a giant!  Babe could have been so black that she appeared blue, promoting her popular color. 

People change stories all the time to make them their own, to elaborate on them. What we hold to be facts or legend isn't necessarily so and Stephanie Meyers just proves that.  A few hundred years from now, generations will be wondering what is truly fact or fiction about vampires (even though they truly don't exist) just based on one small change made in our time period. If you recall, vampires couldn't cross running water, yet so many books and movies have removed that big piece of information. 

Writers embellish!  They make all topics sound glamorous or exciting.  They write to keep you reading.  Would you really read a story about a Trojan Duck or a story about an above average height man with his black ox that couldn't carry a whole tree on his shoulder?  Neither would I....

Friday, October 26, 2012

About MG, but Not the Cool Car...

  Most of you have read my post about depression.  I am thankful for that.  I hope it helps some one, I truly do.  Alas, that was not my only issue.  I thought my aches, pains and lack of energy were all due to the depression, I was wrong. 

Before my cancerous, pain in the ass thymus was removed, it decided to leave me with a gift, a very special antibody.  How long it has been producing this antibody is unknown, it's gone now, so who the hell cares. What this antibody does is leave you with Myasthenia Gravis, or MG for short. 

Here's the textbook definition as stolen by the Myasthenia Gravis Foundation of America (crap, you know it's bad when there's a foundation for it!)*

*Myasthenia Gravis (pronounced My-as-theen-ee-a Grav-us) comes from the Greek and Latin words meaning "grave muscular weakness." The most common form of MG is a chronic autoimmune neuromuscular disorder that is characterized by fluctuating weakness of the voluntary muscle groups.
Common symptoms can include:

  • A drooping eyelid
  • Blurred or double vision
  • Slurred speech
  • Difficulty chewing and swallowing
  • Weakness in the arms and legs
  • Chronic muscle fatigue
  • Difficulty breathing

Holy shit!  Cancer AND this too?  Wow, what a lucky gal am I!!

Nah, I'm not really handling this as well as you may think.  Two steps forwards and like 100 back! 
Unfortunately, I  missed my doctor's appointment to go over my regimen of whatever, I don't know what he has in mind.  I didn't miss it on purpose, insomnia has struck fiercely and I am not getting to sleep until the hours of 4am-6am and sleeping until nearly 11am most days.  I am an early riser, so this is definitely not me!  I slept right through my appointment!  It was a frustrating day yesterday to say the least.

Now, I must wrap my tired little brain around this, cope as best as I possibly can, and pray, pray, pray!!

This too shall pass, or me first... I'm not clear on the details yet.  I need to go more in depth with my doctor, but he decided it was a great time to take a vacation and so now I must wait a month more to find out what's in store for this broken doll. 

Never give up, never give in! 

On a brighter note, I totally scarred my toddler for life today.  I took her to pick out her costume at a Halloween-chain store.  You know, those kind that have the "animatronic" monsters.  Yup, you got it, massive decibels of screams came from this tiny tot.  4 hours later and my ears are still ringing.  Oh boy!  Trick or Treating this year is going to be some treat with all the little ghouls and goblins running around and my anti-zombie girl peeing herself with each step! 
I hope she learns in time for Halloween next year, in order to fit in with this family, you must embrace the gore or go!  (I really won't make her go, unless  it's to the bathroom).
The hauntingly good fun shall never cease in this house!  We are one "spook"tacular family!

Happy Halloween and Boo!!  to you MG! :P

*for more information on MG, please visit

Saturday, October 20, 2012

A "Private" Horror

  Kids, they make me laugh.  It doesn't matter their age, they are always doing or saying something funny.  The young ones though, they get me every time.  They are always coming up with new and inventive ways to say things, and discovering new things every day.  It's always an adventure when you have a toddler, nothing is sacred in discussions with them.  They will talk about anything!  They will discover everything!

Especially their "private parts". 

During a moment of "muscular weakness" on my part, I was especially frustrated at trying to get the panties back on my little girl.  She kept giggling and squirming while I was trying to get her feet into them.  It's just one of the things kids do, make getting dressed extremely difficult.  They enjoy watching us go from light-hearted to a frustrated ball of exasperation.

My arms now feeling like spaghetti, needed a break from the struggle.  I told her to have a seat on the bed.  She laid down, exploring her now naked buttocks and proceeded to check out her vaginal area.  Thus hilarity ensued...


Me:  What's wrong?

Toddler:  What is that thing?

Me:  What thing?

Toddler:  The thing growing out of my "hoo hoo"!

Her face was completely horror stricken as if some giant insect was forging it way out of her "hoo hoo" (our nice name for it)

Me:  That's your vulva (trying my best to not giggle hysterically)

Toddler:  What is it?

Me:  Your V U L V A, vulva.  It where your pee comes out.

Toddler:  Where does my pee come from?

Me:  Your vulva.

Toddler:  Why?

Me:  I don't know, God made you that way.

Toddler:  I don't want it!!!

Me:  You have to have it, all girls do.

Toddler:  All girls have my "bulba"?

Me:  No, you have yours and they have theirs.

Toddler:  Why?

Me:  I don't know.  Aren't you watching Dora or something?

Later on when the teenage daughter comes home, I go over this conversation with her and the toddler over hears. 

Toddler:  Look!  I'm touching my "Foofa"!!

Teenager:  Ew, gross, don't do that!

Me:  I am sure that "Yo, Gabba Gabba" would not appreciate you calling your vulva after one of their characters.

Toddler:  What?

Me:  Never mind.

And thus it begins....the private parts will no longer be private anymore.  *sigh*  Here we go again!
Just when I thought I had been through this with all the others, I get to enjoy even more!  Oh, yay for me!

Friday, October 19, 2012

How to Avoid Volunteering and Alienate Yourself

Cornered by the committees?  Pounced upon by the PTA? 

If there are some of you out there that are like me, and hate being roped into committees, volunteering, the PTA, etc. at your child’s daycare/elementary school, I have some sure-fire ways to NEVER get asked to participate.  WARNING:  These suggestions may also get you kicked out of day cares/schools and/or require you to have a psychological evaluation.   

On a side note, warn your child ahead of time about the discussions. All pertain to the teacher’s daily report on your child’s behavior.  Make sure MOMS are around in ear shot and that they cannot hear your child’s response.   A nice, little high five for the praise and a frustrated or understanding tone for the troublesome notes will go a long way.   

1.          “Oh, I’m so proud of you!  You didn’t stab any one today!”

2.       “I am happy you are having show and tell tomorrow, but you may not bring your gun.  They don’t allow weapons in school.  Mommy will take you shooting later.”

3.       "Sweetie we don’t bite.  No, you are NOT a zombie.  You have not been bitten by one.  Once you are, then and only then may you eat other children.”

4.       “How many times to I have to remind you, when you run with scissors, run with the point near YOU so you don’t stab anybody, only yourself!  Remember, safety first!”

5.       “No, you may not bring home the dead bird you found.  Do you realize we have nearly 10 graves in the back yard already from all the dead things you drag home?”

6.       “So I see we’ve had an especially awful day.  I guess you will have to go into your closet for a while.  Yes, you WILL have to sit in the special chair.”

7.       “Honey, you need to stop saying Satan is your father.  You are going to scare other children.”

8.       “This is a religious school, you can’t just walk around asking kids to join your coven.”
9.   "You MUST stop eating bugs in front of the other children.  If you must munch on an insect, please do so in private."

10.       Last but not least, “Come along, Buggy Butt”  (turn to another parent and whisper, “Don’t ask about the nickname, it’s a medical condition and we don’t speak about it in front of him/her.”)


Have fun tormenting the other parents and enjoy never having to volunteer again!
P.S.  If you DO happen to take this advice, which is meant ONLY in jest, I am truly worried about you and request you do get that psychological evaluation!
P.P.S.  I HAVE had my evaluation, and although my humor is sick, I'm all good! :)

Monday, October 15, 2012

Random Socks

There is no way in hell you can walk into my house and find it perfectly neat.  Let's face facts, I have teenagers, a toddler and have been sick for quite some time.  I have come to embrace the term "clutter".  I would not consider it disgusting, just messy.  Toys scattered, teens forgetting there is such a thing as a garbage can when it comes to soda cans, chip bags, etc.  Basically, it's totally and completely the "lived-in" look. 

Poking, prodding, grounding and the like just don't work when it comes to getting them to do chores.  The prodding is sounding better as long as it's a cattle prod and I am at the correct end of the stick!  They want MONEY now, for all they do.  UGH!  They have received allowance here and there, but it's never lasted for one reason for another.  They either slack off and don't deserve it or I just can't afford to fork it over.

What gets my goat the most (I honestly wish I had a goat to solve this issue), I mean, really sets me en fuego?


Yes, they toss their socks around like confetti and to make matters worse, my dog has a foot fetish.  At a minimum of five times a day I have to ask, "Kaylee has a sock, who's is it?"  and it totally grinds my gears.  She chews holes in them, hello!!  You all know this and yet you still toss your socks on the ground like some sock fairy is going to deposit them in the hampers.  Oh wait, I WAS the sock fairy for years!  If I do get that cattle prod, I will be the SHOCK FAIRY!  Zapping their little butts would just crack me up. 

I spent 10 minutes the other day JUST picking up socks!  How the dog manages to drag them to the places she does amazes me.  In a child's play tent?  Really?  OK, I get it, you must now be sneaky to eat the socks.  We have halted you from eating our shoes and now your foot fetish must be your deep, dark poochy secret.  I get that everyone has an addiction, but could you find a cheaper one, Kaylee?

How about a snack-food fetish?  Grab those soda cans and chips bags and march them to the trash for me.  Not only would it be awesome to teach you that, but helpful in the long run.  It's getting much too expensive to keep replacing socks that you only chew the HEEL on.  At least if you ate the toes off, we would have several pairs to make sock buns with! 

Oh yeah, and if we have to pull one more string out of your butt...

Monday, October 1, 2012

If you think...

I have a need to say a few things... so if I offend you... GOOD!  The message hit home!

If you think life is easy, then you do not belong on this planet!  Life is a complex struggle between good and evil, right and wrong, the poor and the wealthy, the weak and the strong. If you are sailing through without any issues, I totally hate you. No, I mean it, HATE!

If you think the world revolves around YOU, why the hell am I not burning up?  That would mean you are the SUN!  Get over yourself, you ego-maniacal jerk and realize there are more people here than just you.  The only reason I wear shades does not have to do with "your" brightness, but the brightness of my future!  (Thank you for the great lyrics, Timbuk 3)

If you think I am going to pucker up these lips to any one's ass, you are sorely mistaken!  I am a genuine soul, I will tell you what I think, in my time, when I so choose, if I so choose!  This nose will never be brown, nor will these lips EVER suck the rectum of some loser to get what I want.  Just for those of you that do, I give you the one-finger salute!  How about being yourself to achieve your dreams or is that a new concept to you?

If you think you can move forward, kicking dust in my face, then I have some news for you.  I will be eating that dust just to spit it back in your face.  That's right, my honest ways versus your deceit will always win out.  When you look for me, I will be the one laughing and pointing, at the finish line, while you are still looking for your lost shoe in the race of life.

If you think I will go quietly, you obviously don't know me!  I will be singing, laughing, and dancing my way through everything that gets thrown at me.  I may stumble here and there, but the outcome will always be the same... TRIUMPH!

If you think I am alone in this world, look again.  GOD is at my side, and although I may not sound or write like a typical "Christian", I am.  What I say and how I chose to say it is between me and the "Big Guy' and not any of your concern.  Worry about your soul, I will worry about mine.

If you think you have to be mean to people to reach them, wake the hell up!  I bet I have reached more people with my kindness than you have with your nasty ways.  Why in the hell would people give you the time of day if you only show your ass?  Try smiling, or will that crack your face???

If you think that I'm a freak, thank you!  It's the highest honor to be different and not just one of the "sheeple".  If you literally follow the pack of the "what should be normal" in looks and behavior, I have lost all respect for you.  Be an individual for freak's sake!  The world has enough boredom running around, let's make it lively!

If you think all people weren't created equal, bye-bye!  I don't need you around in my life!  Close-minded assholes need not apply.  Love one another, people. I said love, dammit... LOVE!!

If you think this post is just a ramble, you are right.  But it's MY ramble, MY blog and MY RIGHT to ramble, so shove off!  (for those of you that have stayed long enough to reach this far, I treasure you)

If you think I love you, you are definitely correct :)

If you think I stole this photo, BUZZ!  Wrong answer!

Photo courtesy of Kristen Johnston

Follow her on Twitter @kjothesmartass
Read her book GUTS

(no, I am NOT smooching her butt...she is incredible, she is raw, she is incredibly funny and she is a friend and I totally love and respect this woman.  I also got her permission to use this photo as it went so well with my rant)  So bleh to you !  

P.S.  On a "health" note, for those that still tune in for my medical drama...  It looks like Myasthenia Gravis may be my new diagnoses.  Ick!  It explains EVERYTHING I have dealt with for the last few years.  I will be tested for the anti-bodies on the 11th.  I will update then, with a more in-depth explanation of this shit, MG. 


Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Nobody Knows...

This is dedicated to Kristen Johnston, who gave me the GUTS to share my darkest secrets and Reina, my darling friend that gave me the GUTS to publish it.


  It's the worst thing you could ever feel.  Nobody understands that hasn't experienced it.  I am not talking about your "run of the mill" sadness, but the "I don't want to get out of bed" type.  I am at my lowest.  I don't think I've ever felt this low before. 

I keep having dreams that a gun is put to my head.  I can feel the hard steel as if Death himself is poking his finger into my head.  I hear the echo of the "click" and I wake up.  I can't see the person holding the gun, I don't know if it's me, or someone else.  I can't even see the gun, just feel and hear.  I know what it is though and it frightens me.  Is this a warning from my subconscious mind?  A warning from an other-worldly place?  I do not have the answer to this question but I wish I did.  Usually my dreams are stories and I can evolve them into something wonderful on paper.  This is literally a 30 second flash in my head.  Unlike what the experts say, I can remember my dreams fully and they are what allow me to create, to draw out the written word.  I don't like this dream.  I don't like that this is now the fifth night of having it creep through my mind.

I know why I am depressed, I am no longer me.  I move along through this world in a different body than two years ago.  Two years ago, I could move mountains!  Of course, not literally, but still...I was able to do and to get done what I intended.  I cry when I think of all I can't do.  Between the lack of energy and the desperate sadness taking hold of my being, I am lucky to walk down the hall.  I really don't want to move, I don't want to leave my bed, I don't want to talk to anyone.  I just want to be left alone, forever.  Yes, that is my mindset at this point in time.  I miss the old me, the girl who would bubble-forth as she went about her working day.  The girl that would make people laugh.  The girl that would do things with her children.

Yes, I am not the only one suffering, my children are at the mercy of this monster as well.  It's nearly been one year since I finished my cancer treatments.  They are still taking care of me.  I do make dinner for them when I feel up to it.  I try to cook something as scrumptious as possible, making what seems to be their favorites, to try and make up for the lack of mothering.  I still discipline, but the constant hovering, playing games, and general "fun mom" is no more.  My toddler is content playing and reading with me on the bed and I am grateful for that, but I do know she needs more.  I should be running and playing with her outside but I lack the necessities both mentally and physically to allow for that.  She is being denied everything my older children had in me as their mother when they were the same age.  I am capable of caring for her, although bathing her takes my very last speck of energy.  I am grateful that one thing has not left and that is my ability to love.  I love each and every child with all of my heart and soul, and tears fill my weary eyes as I wonder what we could be doing together as a family instead of what is the norm around here. 

It pains me to write this out.  If I decide to publish this, I will be shocked, for I am allowing my deepest and darkest secrets to be revealed to any that shall read this.  I have never chained my hands from writing, nor have I locked my mouth from speaking, alas, this may have to remain in the "unpublished" folder. 

What do I fear most?  Judgement.  All people that suffer from a mental illness have one thing in common, they want to hide it.  Human-kind has made it impossible for us to feel normal, and yet we are.  We are the same as you, we just suffer from a different malady.  You have a cold?  Well, we have a "cold" in our minds.  Oh, so you caught the flu?  Our "flu" affects our brain.   For centuries, the mentally ill were locked in institutions for something that is now treatable, yet the stigma remains.  We carry the burden on our shoulders daily and worry that speaking up will get us locked away.  We sit in silence and long for the day when we might actually feel a bit brighter, a bit hopeful.  We mourn our old selves, wondering where along our path we lost us.  We are afraid of you, for you are the ones that tease and torment, you fear what you do not understand.  Many of you won't go to psychiatrists, psychologists or counselors because of that stigma.  You think you will be labeled as "crazy" or "not normal".  Normal?  Please tell me the definition of normal, because I see many troubled souls as I look around this world and I know of many that seek out help for how they feel.  With that in mind, now tell me who or what is normal, it seems that WE are the normal ones now, doesn't it? 

I once asked my psychiatrist if he thought I was crazy and his response was, " Who isn't?  Have you looked at this world lately?"  Therefore, please spare me any judgement you might have against those who are looking to find themselves again.  You may not even realize you are lost, but one day your path will turn into a forked road and you will not know which way to go.  I promise you, everyone will be touched by the cold hand of depression at least once in their lives.  It may not be to the level I, or someone else have explored, but you will.  You might even bounce back from it much easier than others and I pray you do find yourself back on your life journey better than ever.  For some of us, it's not that easy and we must seek help.  We do not need your opinion on what we should do for it either, just be there to listen and support.  Once we get to a certain point, we will know what to do from there.  However, if you find a loved one is NOT making any attempts at healing themselves and you see all the warning signs of severe depression, you may need to gently speak with them about talking to a professional.  You don't know the warning signs?  GOOGLE THEM!  With the Internet at your fingertips, it's pretty damn easy to find a plethora of information concerning depression, anxiety, and support groups for everything under the sun.  There are even "help" pages for family members of those that suffer. 

Depression affects every single person.  It affects YOU.  No?  Really?  Do you have a loved one or family member that seems down?  Yes?  Then, my friend, it does affect you.  Now, what are you going to do to be supportive? 

My issue? I am tired of support.  I had to be supported throughout my battle with that bad-ass disease known as cancer.  I would rather be able to move on with my life, having kicked cancer to the curb.  I can't.  It has left me broken far worse than I was before.  I got my hopes way too high while fighting with my every breath.  I was positive once I was cleared and pronounced "cancer-free" I would be back to being me.  No more weakness, no more aches and pains and no more treatments!  I got one thing right, no more treatments.  I sit and feel guilty for surviving, even.  I watch my friends lose their loved ones, watch my friends lose their lives and I HATE MYSELF FOR SURVIVING!  Why was I spared?  Why was I one of the lucky ones?   What purpose do I serve?  Don't tell me it's for my children, for these people not only had children, but spouses as well!  I am very aware of survivor's guilt and I am trying to deal as best as I can, but it eats at me daily, so much in fact, that I have had to shy away from a wonderfully strong lady I consider a sister.  I love her desperately, but I survived and her husband didn't and I find it difficult to communicate with her for that one simple fact.  Somewhere, deep inside, I know she hates me for surviving.  I know a lot of people do that lost a loved-one and I shall never shed that feeling.

Money is another evil in my life.  I have never truly recovered monetarily from being out of work for so long.  No one understands just how far behind I was, just how hard it is to raise 5 children under one roof with little to no funds and keep your head afloat.  I have had the most wonderful support in this area and they know who they are and now much I love them for making sure there was food on the table, clothes on our backs and bills paid.  God Bless my son for finding a job and working his ass off to make sure we make it from here on out, but I should be the one working.  Living on disability at my age is an embarrassment.  I have worked since the age of 16!  I am no slouch, well... I am now.  I love working, providing and being the strong one in the family.  I am humiliated at taking money from the government to provide for us, I am humiliated at taking money from friends for whatever else we need to get by.  I am horrified that I had to sell my prized possessions to pay for what medical needs I still require that are not covered.  I love my friend that bought them and know they are in good hands and will be cherished like I once did. 

Depression comes from deep-seeded roots.  It does not come on suddenly, but very slowly, like a snake hunting it's prey.

Understand one thing, please.  I was NOT like this one year ago.  It's been a very slow moving process that brought me to the pit of destruction, that turned a glorious triumph into an evil loss.  Honestly, looking back, I would NOT have done treatment and enjoyed life for as long as I had it.  Knowing what I know now, I would not have let the toxins and radiation drag me to this point.  I had more life and energy in me BEFORE I won my battle, now the battle scars have run deep and I wonder... what would life be like now if I had my old self back again.

If someone you know is suffering from what appears to be constant sadness, please research support groups, warning signs, and local therapists.

If you know of someone suffering so severely that you are worried, please contact the SUICIDE PREVENTION HOT LINE at 1-800-273-8255. 

If you have not read GUTS yet, by Kristen Johnston, I suggest you do.  It's funny, emotional, heart-breaking and raw.  I love my smart-ass friend!  Follow her on Twitter @kjothesmartass

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Question Mark

I have got to tell you, I'm getting more and more paranoid. 

Every little pain, ache, tingle or cough makes me wonder if the cancer is back.  My right arm gets tired, is it cancerous?  My abdomen is cramping, is there cancer there?  My leg aches, is it possible it spread down there?

Oh yes, these are my daily, no... HOURLY thoughts.  Having panic disorder does not help one bit.  The panic attacks are worse and more frequent now. 

Why now, you ask?

My PET scan is coming up, very soon!

The original one was cancelled (thank you lovely state provided insurance for saying I no longer need them) and so I have re-scheduled for September.  It should have been Friday and they always leave me scared out of my mind for at least two weeks prior. 

I probably wouldn't be so worried if I didn't know the statistics of getting a second cancer from my treatments. 

I also would be far less worried if I wasn't still suffering from some of the side effects ( and I will have those forever, unfortunately).

I often wonder if I am the only one that thinks this way, out of those of us that have survived a battle with cancer.

It is at that moment I ponder death.  I am in no way making light of dying from cancer in this next statement, nor is it meant to offend any one.  It's days like these that make me wish I had lost my battle.  No, you misunderstand.  I am grateful for my life, I am watching my kids grow and change.  What I would rather do without is the constant question of WHEN is it going to return, it's not an "if".
That's when I truly wish I had lost.  This constant question mark that hangs over my head and journeys with me where ever I go is so very annoying!  I see them over other's heads now, as well.
My question marks have become new expiration date symbols. 

I look at people and wonder how long they have.  I no longer see faces, but death masks.  Morbid, isn't it?  I look at my children and pray that they have decades.  I look at my face and weep.  I know not of my time and it bothers me.  I will be honest with any body that asks, I am terrified to die.  I know there is a place for me in Heaven and that should make it glorious, but alas, it does not.  I will not be of this plane any longer nor will I be able to hug my little ones.   I have a grandchild I long to see, I have a toddler I want to see go to school, I have a daughter I want to see graduate medical school and get married.  I have three sons that I want to watch turn into men and make their way in this big world.  I have siblings, nieces and nephews that I wish to spend time with but they are too far away. 


Just that little punctuation mark, that you use on a daily basis, is my world.

What is your punctuation mark?  Have you ever thought of that or considered what would best describe your life?   Probably not.  I pray you never have to under these circumstances.  1 year ago, mine would have been the ever so popular exclamation point!  I was loud, out going and boisterous. 
One curve in my life-path turned it into a ?

! + life = ? 

The new equation that has now become me.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Mick: The One that Got Away Part 2....

  Things have a way of slapping you across the face sometimes.  It's not always a bad thing.  We all need those moments where we must come to our senses.  I was NOT prepared for this slap...

I was just minding my own business, honestly, living my life, raising my kids and just being me.  I am happy for the most part.  Being single does suck sometimes, but more often than not I am happy I am.  This heart has been slapped together with duct tape so many times, I prefer it not fall apart again thanks to the opposite sex. 

One message. 

Just one.

It changed me.  Now, all of a sudden I am thrown back to 2008.  Mr. Got Away (Mick) contacted me.  We have always kept in touch here and there, like I stated in part 1, but now... he mentioned "rekindle". 


If you read part 1, you know I never got over him, ever.  You also know he has/had a girlfriend.  I am not sure which it is, I didn't ask (yes, because I didn't want the answer) but I assume he does.  He is not the cheating kind, so of course I am wondering WTH is going on with him.  We chatted for hours like we used to, taking up most of my day and it was good to relive some happy memories.  We laughed, flirted, reminisced and all was normal.


I still have all of our chat logs and I opened them and started reading.  I haven't done that since we split up and now I know why.  I fell in love with Mr. Got Away all over again.  I never stopped loving him, but to fall back so deeply?  I must be nucking futs!  Right?  Please, someone tell me that is possible.  I haven't smiled like this in years, nor blushed, nor felt butterflies.  He was the last person to make me fly higher than humanly possible, and here he is again, and here I go flying again. 

Tears, lots and lots of tears.  They are flowing for no reason.  Happy?  Melancholy?  Sad?  Alone?  I don't know what I am feeling, I am so confused.  I honestly haven't missed having a guy around.  I don't NEED a man to feel complete.  It would be nice to have one, but I have been so busy taking care of me that I honestly didn't care if one came along or not.  If you follow my life, you know this past year was dreadful and there really wasn't room for a man in my life.  Sure, it would have been nice to have one for comfort during the rough times, but I had my friends and they did a great job. 

As I read the chat logs, I went to all the song links he sent me, to describe his love for me.  MELT! 
I must be a complete nutter to jump with both feet again.  We never did anything slow in the first place, why should we change now?

Hope.  I never lost it.  How high do I want to hope?  Last time it ended badly with him being too impatient on how complicated our situation was during that period of time.  I sent him one chat log, to remind him of what we said/did/had back then.  He lost most of our entire history when his laptop crapped out.  I really don't know why I did.  What will that do?  Just because I fell for the words we used to share (wish I had phone recordings as well as live video), will it make him?  Doubtful, he's a man.  Who knows, he may be saying these same words to his current girl.  I really don't know.

Loyal.  Yes, he's VERY loyal, so I am totally confused on why he would do this if all is perfect in his relationship.  Hell, even if it's not perfect, he shouldn't be doing this, it's not like him and it's just wrong.  If he's not happy, and hasn't gotten me out of his head either (from what he says) he shouldn't be with her at all!  It's not fair to her, to any of us.  I have always glared at the photos of them with a contempt for her, like we ladies all tend to do when someone we love has someone new.  Today, I looked and felt pity.  For her?  For me?  I honestly don't know.  I know him, REALLY know him and I don't understand all of this.  I just don't.  I wish I had a magic fairy to explain all of this shit to me.  Should he crush my heart once again, there is no amount of duct tape in the world to fix it this time around.

We were engaged, we were in love, we were happy.  We were "over the moon" happy.  We were such a sappy couple.  I am sure the people we were around were gagging at the amount of happiness and love we exuded.  I am not stretching the truth either.  We were sickening.  Our holiday to the city was more like a honeymoon than a normal vacation.  We said we had found our soul mate, he said it first.  I will never forget that.  He said he prayed in church to find his love and just a week later, there I was.  Instant connection.  Everything in common.  Because of him, I do believe in love at first sight.

I guess my biggest question would be, if I were that important once, and he contacts me again WHILE having a girlfriend (I am assuming, his status says he's in a relationship with her), what the hell does that mean?  If it was/is true love, does it ever really win out in the end?  Does anyone have a happy ending, ever, outside of fairy tales? 

So again, I sit waiting for that message.  Has he changed his mind between yesterday and today?  Did he finally come to his senses and only had a fleeting moment of nostalgia?  I just know it's 4 years ago as I sit and wait for him to message me.  I don't wait for people.  For him?  I think I would wait an eternity.  I only wish he would open up liked he used to and truly tell me what is going on, not just how he missed me and how he messed up with us.

I will wait.

Mr. Got Away came back, for now.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Short Story Time 3

Just a Name

  The rain drizzled down as Riley took her young daughter's hand and headed for the car.  They raced as was customary for the laughing mother/child team.  Today was not a day for laughter and Helena did not understand why her mother could find no joy in their water play.  Helena was confused about a lot of things this day.  Her four year old mind didn't understand why she couldn't wear her favorite pink raincoat over her favorite pink dress. 

  When Helena had woken up that morning, Riley was hanging a black dress on her closet door.  Helena didn't like black, it wasn't a rainbow color and it reminded her of the darkness that came at bedtime.  She had a fear of the dark that no one knew except her mom.  Riley explained that Helena needed to start off the morning.  She ushered Helena downstairs to begin her breakfast of pancakes (her favorite), milk, orange juice and a banana.  Today was Friday, Favorite Friday.  This was a very special day for Helena.  Riley had decided each day of the week would have a theme, so as to entertain her toddler, but Favorite Friday WAS her favorite.  This meant Riley got to wear her favorite clothes, eat her favorite foods, go to her favorite places, etc.  When see saw that black dress, she knew, in that little brain of hers, this Friday was going to be different. 

  After breakfast, Riley assisted in the brushing of the teeth, the styling of the hair, even though her daughter insisted she was a big girl and could do it all herself.  It was their usual morning argument.  Helena ran off to grab her clothes and her mother grabbed that black dress.  The temper tantrum that ensued would be loud enough to wake the neighbors, Riley was sure.  She had to explain to Helena that this was no ordinary Favorite Friday and that they would have to compromise on some things, clothes and shoes being one of them.  It took a full twenty minutes to get Helena in her dress, but she managed, and now was worn out.  Riley was already exhausted from the coming event, for the past three days it was all she could think about.  Fighting with a stubborn pre-schooler was the last thing she wanted today of all days.

  Helena waited downstairs watching TV as her mother readied herself.  She was a good child and could occupy herself easily with little to no trouble.  She was still in a very grumpy mood as more and more favorites were being left out of the day.  She didn't notice that her mother was not working this particular day, but a child of that age really wouldn't.  She didn't notice the somber mood her mother was in, only that she was being forced to go along with her mother's choices for the day instead of her own.  That wasn't how the game was played and she would not let her mother go one minute without reminding her of that fact.

  It was a very long car ride and Helena was uncomfortable in her booster seat.  She didn't like this black dress, the black raincoat and didn't like the fact that they didn't race for the car.  She was so confused as to what was happening.  Her arms firmly folded across her chest told Riley this battle was not yet over.  She really had hoped her daughter would behave for such an occasion, but she should have known better.  Helena had the bull-headed ways of her father, once his mind was set, that was it.  No discussion. 

  When they arrived at their destination, Helena saw nothing but green grass with big stones all over the place.  Special stones of different shapes and sizes.  She had seen nothing like this before and it intrigued her immensely.  The scowl on her tiny face lifted into a look of curiosity.  As they moved along a path, protected from the rain by a black umbrella, Helena started to see people, quite a lot of people.  She looked up at her mother and frowned at the black umbrella.  It was at that moment she observed every person there was dressed in black and carried black umbrellas.  They finally reached the spot the people had gathered around and Riley started her greetings and passing along sympathies.  Helena just stood there, staring at all these strangers and wondering what was going to happen around this wooden box.  It was big!  She wanted to reach for the flowers that were on it and surrounding it but was afraid to leave her mother's side.  Her mother was her sanctity when something was not familiar to her and this was a completely new experience and she knew right away she wouldn't like it. 

  Helena shifted anxiously in her rain boots waiting for the man to quit speaking.  He was saying things about Heaven and God and death.  She new all of those words.  She had been to church, so she understood Heaven is in the sky and God watches from there.  She knew the word "death" because she had just lost her goldfish and her mommy explained what death was and that you never can come back from it, no matter how hard she had pleaded with her mother to fix her "Goldie".  She may have been four years old, but Helena was highly intelligent and was starting to comprehend what was happening to a point.  She knew something sad was happening, for the people were crying.  She looked to her mother for an explanation and saw her mother shedding a tear.  Helena started to feel very nervous.  She had never really seen her mother cry, until she was almost hit by a car.  That scared them both, but what scared Helena the most was her mother crying.  Seeing her cry again made her wonder what was the bad thing that was happening. 

  The man finally finished talking and Helena was given a rose.  She was so excited to get such a beautiful, red flower.  Riley told her they had to walk up to the box and place it on there.  She was sad to give her flower away, but thought it would make her mom stop crying if she listened for once today.  She put the flower on the box first, before anyone else.  One by one more people laid flowers on the coffin and walked away. 

  Riley and Helena were the last ones left standing there.  Helena, with her big, brown eyes, looked at her mom and asked what is all this.  Riley told her it was a funeral, that someone they knew had died and they came to pay their last respects.  She told her she was very proud of her for being such a big girl and not acting out they way she'd expected.  Helena asked her who the person was.  This was the moment that Riley was dreading.  He was never in their lives really.  He came and went, here and there as often or as little as he wanted.  He would go months without even so much as a phone call.  He barely visited.  Helena didn't really even know this person.  He had left while she was still pregnant with Helena.  He missed her birth, and every birthday after that.  Photos were the only way she knew who he was. 

"His name was Robert, but you called him daddy."
"So daddy wasn't his name?"
"No, honey.  My name is Riley but I am your mommy.  Robert was your father's name but you called him daddy."
"Do you understand, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I know you have a name but I thought his name was Daddy, I didn't know his Robert name"

Riley's heart broke for Robert, Helena and herself.  His daughter, his only child, thought his name was Daddy.  All those times they went through pictures and Helena would call out "Daddy!" she was saying only a name, nothing with meaning behind it.  She didn't know any better, he never gave her the opportunity to change their relationship.  She didn't know this man as her father. 

Daddy was just a name.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The Negative Side of the Magnet

  Most of you that know me will laugh at the following statment, please do try to contain yourselves, at our age you can't risk a heart attack.

I must be getting wiser as I grow older.

Okay, get your chuckles out.  I know, by now you are laying on the floor, unable to get up from laughing so hard.  I picture a few of you doing that as we speak (Barb, Damon). 

In all seriousness, I have been observing some lives from a distance to see what would happen to mine (or theirs) if negativity was forced out and only positivity and light were allowed to enter.  The results have been astounding.

I was not kidding when I said I was allowing no negativity around me during my battle with cancer and that was true.  I took the garbage out to give myself a more positive field of energy, to allow my faith to expand and to hopefully encourage my body's self-healing.  It worked.  Once I was found to be in remission, I slacked off a bit and the bad found it's way back in to my life. 

I noticed a change in my surroundings.  Things were a mess, not physically, but emotionally.  Now, I don't truly believe in Vampires let alone "Energy Vampires", but I do believe there are people out there that just suck the life out of you for they know no other way of life unless it's negative.  I personally KNOW people that do not know how to spin the negative into the positive and I feel sorry for them.  This is a big, bad world.  It's filled with horrible people and horrible diseases.  If you refuse to look at the sun and only tread through the darkness, your life will never turn around. 

I am proof, LIVING proof. 

Some days we do struggle financially (who doesn't in this economy?), but for the most part, we are doing quite well.  Happiness and harmony is very difficult to maintain with teenagers afoot, but I try my best to not blow my stack as often as the norm.  As a matter of fact, I don't remember the last time I did go to "Mommy Rage" mode.  I have talked sternly, but not screamed.  My family is a bunch of screamers, I bet they would say "loud talkers", but I can admit the truth, at least.  My mother wasn't a screamer, okay, so maybe she did get louder than her normal raised voice....hmmm... I guess that really isn't a screamer so I take that back.  We are not screamers, we just talk louder than a normal person when yelling. 

I digress yet again.  The point of that paragraph was to state how much good energy flows around you, and the great things that happen to you once you toss the trash.  I didn't mean to get on a tangent about yelling versus screaming versus loud talking.   I do apologize.  Again, the people who know me realize my brain is crazy and shoots around like lasers against mirrors!  I can't control my thought process AND fingers at the same time, that would be like asking a blonde to count to twenty while standing on one leg.  IMPOSSIBLE! 

Now, let's take a look at a person that is nothing but negative energy.  Their life is going down hill a mile a minute.  It's sad to watch, honestly.  Every single person in that family is suffering in one way or another and nothing is being done to attempt a change in the circumstances.  The darkness flows through that house like a wild tsunami. 

I am not so terrible a person that I did not try to change their lifestyle, try to make them spin the bad into the good.  I have talked until I was blue in the face (or was that from the chemo?  sorry, bad cancer jokes got me through it all) but unless you are willing to change, you won't.   I cannot force someone to see the light, I can only show them the light that shines from within me and hope they learn from what I emit.

So as I sit back and bask in my inner peace, I cry for those who have not found their inner sanctum. Pardon me for being cliche, once you've hit rock bottom, there is only one way to go...up!  Cancer was my bottom.

I pray daily that no one has to hit hard like I did, in the way that I did, to realize one simple fact.

Once you have determined to be the optimist and leave the pessimist in the dirt, you will find life is a constantly changing, beautiful thing.   It's not an easy change to make, I still struggle with it on a daily basis, I am only human.  (No, radiation did not give me super powers or mutate me.... yet)  I am also not an expert on life.  I am merely here to observe and state my opinions, whether you care to read them matters not.  I write for myself and for maybe just ONE person out there.  One person that will read this and it will hit home.  One person that will take what I say to heart and understand what I am trying to say and attempt the long haul to happiness. 

If your life is pure bliss, you are doing something wrong and need to seek professional help, or share whatever drugs you are doing! (That was a joke, for those that can't afford a sense of humor)

Life really is a rollercoaster with it's ups and downs and twists and turns (I know I have used that analogy in the past and I am sorry) and even the enlightened still struggle.  Good vs. Evil is never an easily won battle, but my light saber is ready and I am willing and able!

Thank you Lord, for constantly providing for this family when we don't deserve it.  Please show all that they can find the light in the dark and have some peace for a change instead of consistent dread.

God Bless and may the force be with you. (I get bonus points for 2 Star Wars references, right?)

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Confront Your Demons!

  I had a life-changing experience at my high school reunion this weekend.  Sure, 25 years had gone by since we had graduated, but some things you carry with you forever.

One thing I have been carrying with me since my freshmen year is low self-esteem,only on a particular subject caused by a silly 15 year old boy, but it impacted my life.  He made fun of my eyes.  He asked me "Why are your eyes so squinty?".   It may not be a big deal to you, but when you are a young girl, going through puberty and are made fun of by one of the coolest guys in school, it does affect you. 

I practiced keeping my eyes wide open for as long as I could (I have small eyes, thank you, not squinty) and it lasted up until last night. 

I didn't expect to see this guy again, since I did not see him RVSP for our reunion.  My stomach turned ill the minute he walked in!  There he was, the man that cursed me to be very unsure of myself when it came to my eyes.  EYES!   The truly awkward thing is that I grew to LOVE my eyes.  I think they are my best feature.  How strange is that?   My downfall is also my favorite part of me. 

I took nearly all of the night to work up the nerve to confront him about this.  Yes, confront him!  I truly believe when someone has made a negative impact on your world you should and NEED to let them know.  I had to, for my own self.  Bullies are no fun.  I have a son that is bullied and I see what it does to his self-esteem and it crushes me.  I know how he feels and what he is thinking.  I can't fix it.  So, I decided to set an example, albeit 25+ years later. 

I described the who, what, when, where and how to my bully.  I made him think back to his behavior in high school.  I wasn't the only one picked on, trust me.  I received a heart-felt apology and a great load lifted from my shoulders.  He knew he was a jerk in high school, most boys were.  I told him I wasn't doing this to make him feel bad, but to make me feel good, to help recover what was taken from me and to be able to tell my son what I did so that he too, could work up the nerve to stand up and speak out.  I told him I had to set an example for my son, that facing your bully is nerve-wracking and a tad bit scary, but it will make you feel wonderful in the end.  I took my life back, at least the part of it that had left me so insecure. 

By the way, readers, I have been told over the years how beautiful my eyes were and how they loved the deep, green color.  I never believed them, but now I do. 

I was able to enjoy the remainder of the night feeling free and making a new, old friend.  I hope I am able to impart this wisdom on my son and give him the courage to do as I did. 

Hopefully, he won't carry around twenty-five years of insecurity.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Wrong Cookies, Dear!

  Never send a color blind man do pick up your cookies.  The blue and green tends to blend together and you wind up with "reduced fat" cookies!  My heart sank. 

If I am going to splurge on comfort foods because of the fact that I am losing a friend that is very sick, I don't want REDUCED FAT!  I want ALL the fat I can get.  It's called comfort food for a reason.  Sorry, health nuts out there, kale is not on my list when I need to cry, and munch. 

I had my glass of milk all set to go, dunked my so-called cookies in the milk and wanted to cry even harder.  They didn't even taste the same.  I perservered on, needing my cookie fix.  Three cookies later and I was full.  WHAT?  My norm is 5 cookies, yes... only 5!  So my question is, if they reduced the fat, what did they add to make them more filling?  Are all products lower in fat meant to fill you quicker so you can avoid gaining weight?  Doubtful! 

The kids even notice they can't eat their 5 either, they are full after 3 cookies as well.  I gave those cookies to the kids, knowing that drowning my sorrows in fake cookies just doesn't cut it for me.

Now, when I need comfort foods, I will venture out myself.  The next thing you know, he will be screwing up my Ben and Jerry's order!! 

I wonder though... is it truly the color-blindness that made him grab that, or did he become illiterate over night?

Sunday, June 24, 2012

My Heart Isn't There... It's in the Pit

  My 25th class reunion is coming up next week.  My heart isn't there.  There are people I want to see, people I truly miss but my heart will be at another event held the same weekend.  Bruceapaloozastockfest (or something like that). 

I saw what the world COULD become when over 140 of us joined together to laugh, cry, curse and fight together for one man, Bruce C. Rosenberg.  For over a year, one by one, we all slowly came to this cause and showed our love for this family.  The craziness and bawdiness (is that even a word?) that ensued shall remain with the Pit Crew forever and it's our secret.  It's a tight bond we share, tighter than any high school acquaintances I may encounter.  I won't denounce my best friends from high school, and you know who you are.  You are just as important to me as "The Crew", it's just that I never got to see Bruce and his family but one time, and that was when I was recovering in Moffitt. 

This "Crew" has been my family, through the ups and downs of life, we remain constant and steady in the unicorn fart-driven, skittle pooping insanity of our own little world.  I swear I would lose my mind some days if not for them.  I know just a few from school and had the honor to meet Mrs. Rosenstud (as she is now known, because she is THAT awesome) and her two beautiful daughters and share some precious time with Bruce and those "Berg" women.  I feel so blessed to have had them honor me with their presence during my recovery.  When I think of my cancer battle, I feel like a wimp next to the strength this family has shown. 

So, when I attend this reunion, to which I am currently debating on actually going, for my heart is truly not in it, I will be toasting every single member of the "Crew" for being one amazing universe of love.  How's that for a run-on sentence!  Bleh!

I do cry over the fact that I am missing out on a celebration of an incredible man's life.  I cry for selfish reasons, for I am not able to meet the people that not only supported Bruce 100%, but were also there for me, for us all.  Not one single person's life in "The Crew" will ever be the same again, as we all were touched by the immense emotions we shared.  None of us will ever be the same person we once were and that's a very good thing.  We saw the world through a rainbow and it was beautiful. 

So forgive me, my classmates, if I seem a little off or morose.  It's not you, it's me.  I am missing the most important event in my lifetime (to me, at least and not by choice) to try to do what?  Recapture old times?  To see how people have changed?  To watch the cliques gather yet again, to only be left out as the "geek" or "nerd" ??  Yeah, just what I need.  The more I type about it, the more I really don't want to go.  But, there are people I HAVE to see, people that need to be thanked for helping me through MY cancer that I went to school with.  I also want to see my BFF Jill, and Mason for they have loved me unconditionally through everything and they matter most.  If Kimberly was going, I would jump for joy. 

But... my heart won't be there...

I love you Pit Crew.  Have fun, drink a few for me and give those "Berg" women hugs and kisses.  Reina, Dacia, Liz, Susan, Peter, Bill, Judy.... and especially Julie, Ella and Lucy.... (I wish I could name you all), I will truly hold you in my heart next weekend.  It is with you, as you party, get stupid and cause all the trouble in the world along with honoring a man of unquestionable amazement.  Record those "snorts" and "giggles" for me and if Reina or Julie do something REALLY stupid, I want video!!  Hahahahaha!

Thank you for being my "second family".  Thank you for making days sunnier and brighter and filling my life with hope for a better world.

The picture above is the strong, powerful, beautiful and amazing Rosenberg family.   Once you have met them,  you are truly a blessed person.

Friday, June 15, 2012

"Sarc" - My Second Favorite "asm"...

  Guess what the first one is?  *BUZZ*  Wrong!  It's CHASM. 

I feel like I have lived my whole life in one.  I am constantly striving to climb up and out and I keep slipping down occasionally on the slick, moss-covered rocks.  I see the top, I see the light but it's so far out of reach.  When I look back, all I can see is darkness.  The darkness that I have managed to scurry out of with my strength and perseverance.  I am some where in the middle at the moment. 

I am going to give you a scale of how deep and wide this chasm is exactly.  I am assuming all are educated enough to know of The Grand Canyon.  Well, my chasm makes The Grand Canyon a wide break in the sidewalk.  Yes, it's that HUGE!  Okay, it feels that huge.  Nevertheless, it's pretty big and intimidating. 

Obstacles I have overcome lie at the bottom but I can no longer see them.  They are far in the past.  I merely see blackness.  The jagged rocks I have yet to surmount, mock me as I reach for them, trying to lift my weak body further towards the sun.  I can and will do this, I am just unsure of how much time it will take.  I am estimating my entire lifespan.  Dust crumbles in my hand as I attempt to grasp on firmly, reminding me just how precious and fragile is the human life.  Blood coats my finger nails as I dig in firmly, clinging to any hope I have of reaching that crevice in the top.  I am stubborn, so I will never give up, I will constantly strive to climb higher and higher.  Through the sweat and the tears, the laughter and the joy, I will reach my goal. 

This is my chasm.  It is a difficult path to maneuver.  I believe we all have them, though some may be smaller than other's.  One person's climb may be much shorter than another's.  No matter how tiny or massive your chasm is, you can do it, you can reach the exit.  You can touch the stars.  Reflecting on what you have left behind  in your climb is of no use, it's simply another stone you surmounted.  You can smile and say, "I have made it thus far and I shall continue on!" but don't look back.  The darkness that follows will over-take you, trying to force you to give up on your focus.  Keep your head up towards that big, blue sky and feel the warm rays of the sun caress your face.  The yellow heat of hope is there, you only have to feel it to believe it. 

Strive.  Believe.  Reach.  Hope.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Motherhood (aka Hand Me A Valium)

  I have never pretended to be the perfect mom.  I am so far from June Cleaver, in fact, I would make Ward run for dear life!  I don't have any idea what I am doing day to day as a mom.  I can only go with what I feel and hope to God it's good enough to not do too much damage to their developing brains.

Yes, I have been known to throw a shoe or two...or three... but I have bad aim.  They always thought it was funny.  It was, until I picked up a flip-flop and flopped their little butts.  As you can tell, I am a true believer in spankings.  Now that most are grown, I don't dare try.  They are all bigger than me and could take me down in an instant (but don't tell them that!).   My three year old is the only one that I could wrestle down now.  I can't even chase the big ones that run from me when I am in "mom rage" mode.  Yup, RAGE!  I turn into this big, red, vein-popping monster when they are total butt heads.  I know their hormones are raging, but does that give them the right to speak to me like I'm a turd on their shoe?  No way!  I will not tolerate disrespect and they know it.  So when "evil mom" comes out, they run!  I make The Hulk look like a little bitch boy!  Oh boy, getting off track again.  What else is new with me?  I can't stay on one train of thought at a time, I ride the express train that has multiple destinations and stops. 

The point of this WHOLE blog was to show other mom's out there that at times we need our Valium, Xanax, bubble baths, champagne or whatever your choice of "get me out of this life now" medicine you need.  We have all been overwhelmed, over-tasked and over taken by these little people that we created.  The most important thing we have to remember is that they did not ask to be created.  We demanded that they be here and now that they are, we have those hair pulling moments.  IT'S OKAY!  I promise!  What is not okay is telling them that they shouldn't have EVER been here, that they are not wanted or should not have been born!  I get sick to my stomach when I think that parents say that to their children.  WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?  WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR THAT YOURSELF?  I bet you wouldn't.  Vroooooooom, off track again.  Sorry.  Wait, a train doesn't go vrooom... okay then,  choo-choo! 

You've got to love chemo brain, or as it's otherwise fondly known, "brain fog".  The chemicals are still in my body and it causes me to lose my train of thought.  Last time I looked, it was somewhere near Albuquerque.  I am hoping it pulls into the station soon, so I can continue on my mommy mambo. 

Have you ever wanted to run away from home?  That's normal.  We all feel we are losing it from time to time.  We all worry if we are guiding our spawn in the right direction.  It's a hit or miss game, my friends.  There is no instruction booklet to pass out when they come from the dark into the light of the world.  A true testament to how you did won't be known until they are on their own and making their own way through this insane thing called "life".  Sure, we can see some of the good and bad things they do now and think "Oh, I am totally screwing them up" or "Damn, I'm good"... but that just isn't how it is.  The child that is perfect now may not be 10 years from now and vice versa.  I am also not saying that we as parents are to blame if they go out slaughtering people.  Most people know the basic right from wrong.  Minor troubles are our fault, big troubles are theirs!  Well, that's how I plan on explaining it away when one of my kids does something completely terrible.   If they totally win the Nobel Prize?  That's us as parents all the way!!  Do you see how easy it is? 

Good child:  We did it!
Bad child:  They did it.

Now go take that Valium and relax.  You are fine.  You are a good parent.  Keep telling yourself that before go to bed every night. 

One more thing, if your child starts torturing animals when they are young, just tell your friends they are planning on becoming a veterinarian... then get them psychological help immediately and up your Valium dosage... by a lot!

*DISCLAIMER:  I am in no way, shape or form an expert in parenting, psychology or psychiatry.  I am just an expert in sarcasm and sick humor.