I didn't sign up for this...but I'm not going anywhere.

Something that you never understand until you have to do it...raise a child with any kind of special needs. Whether it's from birth or something that develops later on, this is no cake walk. I have no doubt that some things are harder than others. The term special needs encompasses a multitude of needs. Physical, emotional, mental...all of these are draining for a parent.

No one prepared me for feeling helpless. I thought I was blessed and lucky because I gave birth to 3 "normal" children. No one told me that could change. I don't love my kid any less, anyone who thinks I do can kiss my ass. It's a sucker punch to the gut that my child that was most loving as an infant and toddler is the one that has turned into a kid I barely recognize.

Every week I tote him to therapy, we work on trying to find methods to keep his "good brain" present and his "bad brain" under control. This is not easy. As a matter of fact it's really freaking hard. It's emotionally draining and sometimes I would love nothing more than to bury my head in the sand and let someone else deal with it...but I don't. I can't. I feel fiercely protective of this kid, more so of him than his siblings at the moment, but I'm working on that.

It's a hard pill to swallow, and it would be easier if we weren't living it up military style with my husband gone. My family helps, but no one else really understands. When I look at this kid I see a reflection of myself, but I didn't go through this until my teen years. I think of how hard life is going to be on him as he grows...if it's already this hard now, what is he facing in the future? I buried my head in the sand when my drs first told me 10 years ago that I have this same problem. It was easier then. I don't have that option now. I can't pretend everything is peachy. I have to face his demons...and mine too, for setting a good example is the only way. Denying my demons would be the same as denying his, and it can't happen. It won't happen.

My husband didn't sign up for this. Last night I gave him the option to walk. There's a lot of hard times coming, probably harder than anything we have faced together. I calmly pointed this out, all the while hoping he couldn't tell that I was dying inside from fear that he would take the out I offered him. A lesser man would have jumped at the chance to run. Casey calmly responded to my offer. He told me, "We have already made it through so much. When I looked at you in your room at your mom's house before I married you and told you I'm not going anywhere, I meant it. For better or worse, I'm here. I am not going to leave you."

It isnt every day you find a man brave (or maybe crazy) enough to take on you, your kids from another man, and your crazy ass family. It's even more rare to find a man who gladly takes the role of father to said kids and tolerates attacks from said family. In almost 4 years of being together we have had more things hurled at us than your average couple. Yet here we are, still together, still in love, and still holding on tight through all the storms. How did I get so lucky? To me, this is proof that God does answer prayers after all.

So little man, maybe one day you will read this, and I hope that things are easier for you then. Just always know your dad and I are here for you. For better, for worse, forever.

Wack-a-doodle is the new sane.

Today I came across the following paragraph and I thought to myself, "Self...I could be best friends with this guy. He has a valid point." I think similar things to this every day.

"Okay, I'm just gonna say it out loud. There are times when going crazy looks attractive. And I'm not talking about becoming charmingly eccentric. I've already got that covered nine ways to Sunday. No, I'm talking about purposely emigrating to the land of lunacy. That special psychological zip code where The Ancient Laws of Behave Yourself no longer apply. My "reasoning" is simple. It takes a great deal of effort to sustain a conservative, trustworthy persona. Surrendering that effort would involve, from a Freudian perspective, a conscious dismantling of the super ego - that part of the psyche entrusted with enforcing parental and socially approved actions. And therein lies the allure of going full frontal wack-a-doodle. The constant energy required to pass as normal would suddenly become available for doing and saying whatever pleases me in the moment. Imagine it. The id and libido completely unbound by any and all moral or cultural restrictions. Hmm... Probably won't need the shrink anymore... might need a lawyer."

Thank you Chuck Lorre. However, I would never eliminate my need for a shrink. He's my best friend...literally. I didn't even get billed an hourly rate when he came over to put my elliptical together for me. I think that's a win.

ohhhh shit...the bitch is back

Holy shit balls. Did you miss me? No? Then quit reading. If you did however, read on. It's been an eventful 3 months. I dont even know where to start. We could start with the big ugly C word, and no I don't mean cunt, but cancer talk is depressing and I'd rather move on to bigger and better things. These doctors are trying to turn me into Frankenstein. I think I would make a pretty fuckin hot frankenstein though. Also kudos to my thyroid for trying to kill me (and I know some of you hope it succeeds and you're going to helllllllll for that one), but I've lost 35 lbs now and damn do I look hot.

I know, conceited much? No, just confident. Thus the reason I let my friend talk me into buying this amazing bikini.

Anyway there are so many topics I could ramble on and on about, but I need to sit back and sort them out before I go off on a tangent. And for those of you hater freaks who like to leave nasty comments, they are being screened and I will never see them. ;) Sucks to know you're wasting your time huh?

You know what amuses me? People who like to twist things for their own retarded ass benefit. Pardon me for not being politically correct but i find it is highly overrated. Don't like what someone has to say? Don't fucking read the shit. Seriously, there is a little red ex on the top right of the screen, click it. Im not just referring to you douche nuggets that leave bullshit stuff on my page either.

Something else that annoys me, is that men and women that are fighting for your right to be a complete dick don't even have freedom of speech on their own fucking blogs or anything. And that's without the fuckin govt involved, just friends and family. What is wrong with you people? let your son, daughter, brother, sister, whatever in the hell they are to you express how they feel. beats the shit out of shooting something (or someone) that they shouldn't right?

All you e-thugs out there that think you're hot shit...you're nothing but a pathetic piece of garbage. Real life bullies too. Get some self esteem and stop picking on people you think aren't as good as you. No one is perfect. Do you know how many suicides result from bullying each year? Probably not because you can't remove your head from your ass long enough to see the pain you put someone through. it isnt just them that suffer either. it's their friends and families too. So think before you open your hateful mouth. What you say could just be the straw that breaks the camels back. Do you want that on your conscience?

On a lighter note, here's your food for thought today:
Nobody will ever win the battle of the sexes...
There's too much fraternizing with the enemy.

I miss you.

I visited your grave today. I know the only thing there is your body and your soul is somewhere else, but I always feel like you are right there when I go. No matter how much time passes I don't see the hurt ever healing. There are so many regrets there. So many things we both should have done to stay closer. I also know thinking about the what ifs is like rocking in a rocking chair...it gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere.

I dusted away the leaves that were piling up on your headstone and the wreaths and decorations that are there. I know it doesn't do much good since they will blow right back over but it made me feel better at the time. I made something to add to the collection today too.

I heard a song that makes me think of you. Barely in your 50s, you left too soon. I listen to it and it makes me sad, but then i remember that at least you aren't in pain anymore. Knowing that doesn't heal my hurt but it takes the edge off the pain when I think about it.

You always called me Angel, and now you are mine. I know you have been looking out for me since you left us two years ago. This is my song for you:

It's been a long year...

A year ago yesterday started off like any normal day. We tried to treat it as any normal day even though there was a dark cloud hanging over it. I did my best to busy myself and not watch the clock tick away the seconds until my mother would call. Today would be the day we got the news. I prayed and prayed for good news and hoped that everything would turn out alright.

I remember clearly when my phone finally rang. I was driving on post (though I cannot for the life of me remember why now, probably taking food to some MPs or something), I answered and was greeted by my mother, sister, and grandmother on a conference call. This couldn't be good. I ignored the no cell phone use on post rule. This call was worth a $75 ticket.

What my mother had to say shocked me to my core. You never think it can happen to you or people you love. It happens to strangers, it happens to acquaintances. The grocer, the pharmacist, the guy down the street. My bubble world I lived in shattered that day.

The words were simple, yet scary. "I got my results today. I have cancer." My mother. Mine. Not someone else's, but mine. The "good" news was there was only a 10% chance it would kill her. That's how the doctor put it. She would have to have a complete thydroidectomy and radiation treatment to be sure it hadn't spread. I held it together fairly well for the phone call but as soon as I hung up I burst into tears. Cancer is scary, regardless of the chance of survival.

Regardless of what some other people may think, I was my mother's rock through it all. The day she went into surgery i sat by her side until they took her away cracking jokes and being highly inappropriate. I wouldn't let her see my smile falter despite the fact that I was shaking with terror inside. They were slitting her throat for the surgery. How could I not be terrified? I held myself together until they wheeled her away and that's when I lost it.

I cried and cried. I paced, I worried, I walked into the men's bathroom because I was so distracted. I cracked jokes to my mimi and step father. I pestered the nurses. When my mom finally came into recovery then was taken to the room where we could see her, I sat by her side, not wanting to leave at all in case she woke up and I missed it.

When she did wake up and start moving around we could tell she felt better when she threw a brush and a bed pan at steve for making her laugh. I poked fun of her Frankenstein scar and still do to this day. It's our reminder that we made it through the dark time together. I stuck by her side and visited her daily in the hospital (for the whole 3 days she was there and even spent one night with her during which time 3 polar bears froze to death and the penguins migrated to south america).

I did it because I wanted to. Not because I felt some obligation to her. I did what I did for the right reasons, not the wrong ones. I knew my mother would not go through this alone because I knew I would be there no matter what. I wish some other people had realized that and not made choices that put my mother through hell again later. You know who you are, if you even read this.

It's been a year and mom and I have both been to hell in back, in different ways and in similar ones and we are still going strong.