Feeling drained

You know your day is going to start off badly when you roll over to turn off the alarm clock and think - wow, I can sleep in - it's Saturday, only to realize a few minutes later that it's not Saturday - it's not even Friday.

My son fell asleep in our bed last night. We've been trying to discourage it, but it seems that about once a week he ends up sleeping with us. After my shitty realization that it is Thursday, I rolled my ass over to face my day. My son grabbed onto my arm and started crying and begging me to "NOT GO WORK". I decided to lay down with him for a few more minutes and tried to explain to him that Mommy had to go to work for two more days and then we could have the whole weekend together ----- and maybe even go to the Children's Museum. Nothing worked. I finally had to just leave him in bed crying. He managed to fall back asleep before I left for work - but I've spent the entire day feeling bad about it.

I talked to my sister last night and she still hasn't heard back from her doctors about her fertility tests they did last week. We talked for a long time about the frustrations of miscarriages, infertility and the like. I hope that it helped her get a lot off of her chest. It did make me realize that I don't want to go through the roller coaster of trying to conceive again. My husband and I have floated the idea around for a while about waiting until our son is in Kindergarten and then adopting an older toddler. I just don't think it's in the cards for us to have another baby and maybe that's best for us. I don't look forward to doing the "baby" thing again...the late nights, the formula, the really crappy year of 12 months to 2 years old when they're in to everything but don't understand/want to understand when you tell them no. So maybe it will be the best option for us....who knows? We have a couple of years to think it over yet.

I tried all night long last night to get a hold of a girlfriend of mine who is getting divorced. I tried and tried and all I got for two hours was a busy signal. I hope that she's all right - I'll try again tonight.

I also tried getting in touch with my cousin, to make sure she's OK. I know that it's painful losing a grandparent and I hope that all three of my cousins and my Aunt are doing OK.

Anyway - today I'm feeling drained. I think I'm coming down with a cold and I just don't feel like giving it "my all" today. In fact, I'm so looking forward to going home and putting on jammies and jumping in bed to watch 'The Apprentice' and then falling asleep.

The phone rang at 6:00 AM

It was my mother in law. I was worried at first, because no one calls at 6:00 AM unless it's bad news or they're just plain crazy. I'm now worried about my mother in law, because I think she may be just plain crazy.

She called to tell my husband about the skatepark and about a concert that she and a bunch of Josh's friends went to on Monday night. I'm listening intently to my husbands reactions to his mom over the phone, mostly because I'm nosy like that. Actually, I wanted to make sure everything was OK and that she didn't need us for anything.

After about half an hour my husband gets off the phone and tells me about the conversation. Apparently the insurance companies are being shitty about paying the hospital bills for my brother in law. Bad news one. Then, she tells him, the reason the auto insurance is being shitty is because the airbags never deployed, so they're thinking about suing Toyota. So it may drag out for a while and I'm being honest when I say that my mother in law is one step above poverty. She lives comfortably and is one of the happiest people I've ever met, but money is not something that comes out of her ears. If she has to take on a flight for life ride and a day in the ICU - it will break her. I really hope those insurance bastards get it figured out real quick. Bad news two.

My husband then tells me bad news three - I guess my mother in law was talking with one of the Highway Patrol men who responded to the wreck. Now, as you all know - the story we were all told was that Josh and Travis were thrown from the truck as it went end over end in the median. Josh landed in the median, almost buried in the dirt and Travis landed in the southbound lanes of the Interstate where he was then run over by a semi. During the week of the funeral, Travis's family started talking about going after the guy who was driving the semi. I personally thought it was useless, as I'm sure the driver of the semi didn't see him since it was dark and most likely didn't feel anything as he drove over. Now, we're hearing a bit more of why the family reacted the way they did and now - if what I'm hearing is true - I hope they sue the pants of the guy. So, bad news three, MIL talking to the five-oh.....When the Wyo Hwy Patrol arrived on scene both doors of the truck were open.

This means one of two things. Someone else stumbled upon the accident and looked in the truck for any remaining passengers and then.just.left. That thought makes me ill. The other possibility is that Travis was conscious after the accident and pulled Josh out of the truck. Then he walked into the southbound lanes of the Interstate and was hit by the semi. The cop told my mother in law that the semi's grill was very fucked up and that he had two blown tires and a blown out brake line. Now, a grill on a semi sits about two feet off the ground and goes up to about five or six feet - sometimes higher. The only way he could have sustained that sort of damage would be if he had hit Travis while Travis was standing up - meaning that Travis was alive and conscious at that point. And it also means the semi driver just drove away after hitting him. After my husband explaining this to me, I went and threw up.

Travis's mother has been through so much already and now it looks like she's going to have much more to deal with. I almost wonder if it wouldn't have been better to have just gone the rest of our lives thinking that both boys died instantly and while it was tragic, we can at least rest knowing that neither one of them suffered.

I can't imagine thinking about my son, pulling his unconscious/dead friend from a car accident, then confused and hurt himself trying to wander off for some help....and then......

I can't think about it. But yet, it's all I've been able to think about all day.

My grandma called last night. My cousin's other grandma passed away yesterday. I feel terrible for them, because this grief for Josh is still so fresh in my mind.

They say things always happen in threes, does anyone else believe that?

My son is smarter than my sister

Last night I was talking to my sister on the phone. I hadn't talked to her in a week and she and her husband had some infertility testing done last week. I needed the update. I needed to know what was going on. My sister and I talked for a while about what was going on with her and then she had a mini-breakdown.

"Do you know how hard it is to hear about other people's pregnancies - especially the one's where the kid is 18 years old...?"

Oh little sister - do I ever. I remember my first 'confirmed' miscarriage. My husband and I were sitting in the waiting area of the hospital, waiting for our turn to see the ER doc and the whole room was filled with 18 - 19 year old girls. I clearly remember listening to one very angry girl complaining about how if she was pregnant whe was going to get rid of the baby - because the baby's father was an asshole.
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Ten minutes later we were told there was going to be no baby for us that time.

I used to come home from the mall crying. All of those pregnant women were just walking right up to me and sticking their HUGE pregnant bellies in my face and taunting me - 'Hahahaha - I have a baby in there and you don't'! At least they did in my reality. Seeing someone pushing a stroller with an infant in it was enough to send me over the edge for the day.

And it only took us a year to get pregnant. I can not imagine what it would be like to try for two, three years or longer and still not have a baby. Oh wait - yes I can.

My sister didn't realize that we never used any birth control after my son was born up until 2 months ago. So for almost three years, we never got pregnant. When we were living in Wyoming, I was so convinced that we were going to have another baby that I kept my son's crib up in his room - even though he had moved up to a big boy bed. I wanted him to be used to having it in there, so it wouldn't be a shock when the baby came. Month after month after month we tried and (obviously) nothing.

The worst part of this for my was the month of July 2004. My oldest cousin was two months pregnant and due in January. My little sister had just found out she was pregnant and due at the very end of February or beginning of March. Then my middle cousin announced her pregnancy - due in February. I was in the infamous two week wait and I was so convinced that I was going to be pregnant. I kept imagining the joy on my grandmother's face when she learned that in a span of three months - she was going to add four great-grandbabies to her family. After two days of living in my fantasy world - my period started. I cried myself to sleep that night and then picked myself up and went to work the next morning. Where my 19 year old leasing agent announced that she had just taken a pregnancy test that morning and -----you guessed it----she was pregnant. And the dad could be one of three guys. I spent a full week feeling sorry for myself. Until my little sister miscarried. Then I could focus my attention on her and helping her heal, so much so that I could forget about my own pain for a while.

After my husband and I split up (and got back together) I convinced myself that all I ever wanted was one in the first place. After all - when you get perfection the first time out - why bother trying again?

So after this long conversation with my sister, I asked my son if he wanted to talk to Aunt Lisa on the phone. He kept saying no - he didn't want to talk on the phone. So my sister tells me to tell him that the Easter Bunny was on the phone. I act like I'm letting my sister go and that there's another call I'm clicking over to. Then I ask my son if he wants to talk to the Easter Bunny. He's falling over himself because he can't get to the phone fast enough. He gets on the phone and here's what I hear on my end:

"Hi Easter Bunny."

Silence and listening

"Mommy - that's not Easter Bunny. That's Aunt Lisa"

I get my sister back on the phone and she tells me that she didn't even disguise her voice. She didn't think he'd catch on. Well, Aunt Lisa - you got BUSTED! Let that be a lesson to all of you. Unfortunately for me - my son has a mind like a steel trap. We have to get up really early in the morning to pull one over on him.

Does anyone here do a good Tooth Fairy?

EEEEUUUUWWW

I am temping at another project in our portfolio while they search for a permanent employee (at which time I will go back to my building).

At this building, there is the main office for a certain political party with whom I disagree with just about everything. I had to go in there just now to deliver a rent invoice and a notice. It was filled with propaganda for a man whom I despise soooo deeply that I can't think about it too long or my head will explode.

I need some Listerine from where I just puked a little in my mouth.

If I'm ever in a coma or dead - here's what to do to me....

Anyone who is not living under a rock these days has, I'm sure, taken notice of Mrs. Terri Schiavo of Florida. My husband and I sat down last night to have a serious conversation on the topic of wills and living wills. We also had the conversation last week about funeral arrangements. Yes sir, it's been a happy week or so in our household. Happy times indeed.

You see, we know we should have them, but have never taken the initiative to get them done. (I read somewhere this week that one company's requests for living wills has increased 600% this week because of the media coverage of the Schiavo situation.) I think that we both know that neither one of us wants to stay alive in a vegetative state or have life support if there is no chance that we can live on our own. But because of all of the hoopla regarding Terri Schiavo, we've both realized that expressing our wishes to each other is simply not enough. So this morning I decided that I'm going to tell a third of my family to let me die, another third of my family to keep me alive no matter what and the other third of my family that I want to be cryogenically frozen and brought back to life when they can fix me. Don't you think that will make for some interesting discussions around the hospital bed????

In all seriousness, I decided to blog today about my wishes, just in case something were to happen to me before we get these wills done. Because my son is three and we still don't have a legal document that would award his custody to someone. We're obviously big fat procrastinators. And lets face it - what could be a more legally binding document than my blog - where I post semi-anonymously??

So - the person I want to make decisions on my behalf when I can't is my husband. I don't want to be kept alive by artificial means if the doctors feel that there is no chance for my recovery. Although, I would like to be examined by more than one doctor - because sometimes they make mistakes, you know? So if my doctor and another health care professional decide that I am likely to die within a short period of time and that life support would only delay the moment of my death I do not want life-support. If I have permanent and severe brain damage and my doctor and another health care professional beliebe that I will not recover I do not want life support. If I am in a coma and am not expected to wake up or recover then I do not want life support. If I am in the end-stage of a terminal illness I do not want life support. I do want any usable organs donated. After smoking as long as I did, I doubt they'd want my lungs, or my liver. I'm pretty blind - but a completely blind person might appreciate my eyes. I think my kidneys are probably in decent shape. Same with my heart.

I want to be cremated. I would like everyone attending my services who wishes to take a little jar of ashes with them and every time they travel - let a little bit of me go. Yes, I know it's illegal in some place to release ashes - - - but I think that makes it all the better. I love to travel and I love the idea that I will be EVERYWHERE. Almost OMNIPRESENT. I love that.

Obviously, if I were to die, our son would stay with my husband. If he were to go with or before me, then I want my son to go to Bill and Melinda Gates. I know they will take great care of him. OK - if they won't take him, then he is to go to my sister and her husband. Under absolutely no circumstances is he to go to ANY of his grandparents. No offense to any of you - but look how bad you screwed us up - do you think I'd let you screw up my kid too??? Besides - you're all old now --- and none of you really want another teenager around.

So now everyone knows about my wishes. Hmmmm......maybe I can put off calling the attorney for another five years or so.

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Also, speaking of the Schiavo case, there's something that I don't understand. This has been bothering me since the election...I'm not trying to stir anything up or be smart or sarcastic...I genuinely don't get this.

All of the Christian conservatives who voted for Bush for his pro-life stance and who are applauding him today because of his emergency Congressional session for Terri Schiavo's life....why aren't they more intently protesting the war in Iraq? We are killing innocent children, not just fetuses, but living breathing children and other innocent victims - not to mention our own troops, and that's OK? Also, did they not realize that when Bush was Governor of Texas that he presided over more executions in his four years than in the entire history of Texas up to that point? Weren't those lives worth our compassion as Christians?

Again, not stirring the pot - but if anyone knows how/why that makes sense, could you please clue me in - 'cause I don't get it..... If all human life is precious and valuable and we should err on the side of life, in my humble opinion that means ALL human life - including criminals, our military and the citizens of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Before anyone jumps to conclusions about my politics- I am very moderate. I don't believe in abortion as birth control, but I think in some situations it is necessary. And it's not my place to decide for someone else. I do not believe in the death penalty - ever. I was all for going to Afghanistan and kicking some ass - but am very opposed to our situation in Iraq, because I think that we were misled as to why we were going in. However, if Canada tried to invade us tomorrow - I'd be all over kicking Canada's ass.

I really and truly try to see all sides of a situation and this is one of those cases where I can't understand the logic. Perhaps someone can explain it to me?

What classic movie are you

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Wow - this makes me sound like a nice person..........I love quizzes like this!

March 20, 2002

My details of this day are fuzzy and vague at best. I remember certain things very clearly - others....not so much. I am going to attempt to recall as much as I can the best I can :)

6:30 AM - Arm up the crotch. Starting to thin out. They're thinking though, if it doesn't start to pick up soon that I'm going to be sent home.

7:00 AM - I realize that I took my diabetes pill last night and haven't eaten since. My blood sugar is very low. The nurses don't believe me until I test in front of them. I immediately get a glass of apple juice and am told that I can apple juice throughout the day to keep my blood sugar level.

8:00 AM - Mom gets to the hospital. I was really glad she was there, even though I wasn't sure beforehand if I wanted here there or not.

8:15 AM - Dr. Fowler comes in to check on us. She starts the Pitocin. I get hooked up to all of the little monitors. From this point forward, I won't be getting out of bed without a nurse's permission and help.

8:30 - 10:00 AM - Random fists up the crotch.

10:00 AM - a nurse declares that I'm not progressing, even with the pitocin and that I might be getting sent home.

10:01 AM - I start freaking the fuck out. There is no possible way in the history of possible ways that I am leaving that hospital without a baby on the outside of me.

10:15 AM - Dr. Fowler comes back and I tell her that there is no possible way that I am leaving without a baby on the outside. She breaks my water. Once the water is broken they won't let you go home because of risk of infection. She also thinks that we might speed things along by breaking the water.

10:16 - 11:59 AM - More random fists up the crotch. I think my husband fielded a bunch of phone calls from "everyone" about what's going on.

12:00 PM - My father and his new wife show up. My husband and mother head out to grab a bite to eat since I have some "company". My father's new wife almost gets volunteered to take the next fist up the crotch...only it was going to be my fist and her ass. If she had made one more comment about me getting up to walk around (because it would speed up my labor) even though I had made it clear to her that with all of the monitors I was connected to that it took three nurses and my husband just to get to the toilet....luckily the nurse came in to shove her fist in the crotch and it made my dad uncomfortable to even think about it. They left - and it was my favorite fist in the crotch of the day!

1:30 PM - After the latest fist in the crotch, they determine that I'm still not dilated past a one. Dr. Fowler says - "We're turning up the pitocin". KC says "Yeah! Rock on! Let's get this show on the road!"

2:35 PM - KC says - "You know what, funny thing about this pitocin. Since you've turned it up, I'm not getting any breaks between my contractions. Can I get a tylenol?" (On this point, I'm serious. I honest to God asked the nurse for some tylenol.....I remember this clearly, because the nurse laughed her ass off at me and said that tylenol wasn't going to cut it at this point.)

2:40 PM - I agree to the epidural. I'm in mass amounts of pain. I'm getting no break between the contractions AND with the epidural - they can really turn up the pitocin.

2:45 PM - Here comes the man of the hour. Mr. Anesthesiologist! I actually let him stick a needle in my back. The last thing I remember is the nurse asking him if he's sure. He tells her "Yes, for her height and weight - that's the dose". I tell the nurse I'm feeling nauseous and that I think I'm going to hurl.

3:00 PM(ish) - I look up at my husband who is standing over me with empty packages of some kind in his hands. I look over at my mother in the corner who has tears running down her face and she's white as a ghost. I ask if everything's OK. I don't get an answer right away. I start freaking out because I'm thinking that something is terribly wrong with the baby.

It turns out that I am one of a freakishly small amount of women whose blood pressure drops dangerously low after an epidural. My blood pressure dropped to 60/40, they lost the baby's heartbeat for a while and had to pump me full of epinephrine to bring my blood pressure back up to normal. But the baby was fine.

3:15 PM - I get a catheter and the baby gets an internal fetal monitor.

3:30 PM - Yet another fist up the crotch, but this time, I can't feel it!

4:20 PM - My sister and my grandmother show up. Dr. Fowler comes in and checks me again. I've now dilated to just under a two (aka a one).

5:00 PM - My mother and husband again leave to try and eat something.

5:15 PM - Several nurses are running into my room and looking at the monitor. NOW, I'm freaked the fuck out.

5:16 PM - My regular nurse tells me that we're going to have to have a c-section. Right away. Every time I have a contraction, the baby's heartrate is dropping. Since I haven't dilated enough to start pushing, it's going to be a c-section. I tell her "I don't care if you have to pull him out of my ass. Just get him out."

5:30 PM - I go into OR.

6:00 PM - I'm prepped for surgery and my husband is allowed in.

6:05 PM - My husband and I make small talk with the anesthesiologist.

6:15 PM - I ask the anesthesiologist when they're going to start cutting. He tells me that they're close to bringing the baby out.

6:20 PM - The anesthesiologist makes my husband stand up and watch our beautiful baby boy make his way into the world. He joins us weighing in at 8 pounds 4 oz and was 20 inches long. He is not processing oxygen the way they would like to see him, so he's off to the NICU. I start freaking the fuck out again and make my husband go with the baby to the NICU and start asking when I'll be able to get in there with him.

7:00 PM(ish) - My husband is still in the NICU. I get wheeled into recovery. I get to talk on the phone with my husband in the NICU who tells me that our son is doing fine, they just wanted to monitor him for a while longer. Apparently, it's common with c-section babies to have problems breathing at first because they don't get all of the fluid pushed out of their lungs the way vaginally delivered babies do. I host an array of visitors in the recovery area.

The one I remember most is my niece. I felt terrible for her, because I was really puffy looking and I was shaking terribly from all of the anesthesia wearing off. She was 8 at the time and she was so freaked out. I kept trying to reassure her that I was OK and the baby was OK and that all of my shaking was from the medicine wearing off. I don't think that she believed me until the next day when she came back to visit and she realized we were all good.

8:00 PM(ish) - I finally get wheeled into the NICU so that I can hold him. He looked so good! He already had a binky in his mouth and they just had him on the little oxygen tube. I wish I could put into words what it was like to hold him for the first time. I just loved him so much already that it was overwhelming. It's like, if I sat and tried to think about it, I might explode from the sheer volume of love that I had. I remember thinking that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

8:30 PM (ish) - I get wheeled into my room. I finally got something to drink.

10:00 PM(ish) - They release my son from the NICU and he comes upstairs with us. My husband finally got to hold him. I didn't realize that in the four hours he was in the NICU that they hadn't let my husband hold him. Looking over at my husband holding his son was another moment that I wish I could find the words for. It was so RIGHT.

11:00 PM(ish) - We ask to have our son taken to the nursery so that they could monitor him and we could get a decent nights sleep, since we were both so tired.

12:00 AM - The freaking Nazi of a nurse comes in and wakes me up so that I can try and stand up. I am pissed, but she makes it up to me by bringing me a Demerol.

We lucked out the rest of the four day post c-section stay. Our hospital had semi-private rooms and by all rights we should have had a roommate, but we never did. My husband swears that it's because we were so nice to the nurses. He's probably right. We gave them all of the cookies and leftover goodies we had. We were always pleasant and polite. My husband would grab them lunch if he went out. They let my husband sleep in the other bed in the room for the whole four nights. They also brought him the extra snacks the cafeteria had brought up for patients who had already checked out.

I can't believe that it's been three years. I look at my son now and I can't believe that it's been that long. But there is definitely not a baby looking at me now. Of course, as his mother, I have to brag.....but seriously, not a day goes by that he doesn't make me smile and bring this flood of emotion so large and overwhelming that if I stood in one spot too long, it would overtake me.

Happy birthday baby boy!

A Random note about Blogger Spell Check

Blogger spell check flagged "GESTATIONAL" as a word it didn't recognize. But it let "LESTER" and "MOLESTER" through as recognized (and therefore correctly spelled) words.

March 19, 2002

Three years ago today at about this same time, I awoke to a nurse literally shoving her fist into my nether regions to "check how I was progressing" I can honestly say (since I had an epidural early) that this was the worst pain I felt during my labor. I've decided today to blog my labor story, because it's been three years and I've never written it down. Even today, the details are starting to become fuzzy, so I don't want to wait another three years to get it down.

On my last OB/GYN appointment on March 13, 2002 I had to do my usual routine of going to the hospital first for the Level II ultrasound in which they checked to see if the quality of my amniotic fluid was still acceptable. Apparently, gestational diabetes and good amniotic fluid do not necessarily go hand in hand. I made it to my OB/GYN's office and met my mom there who had come to see the ultrasound that my OB/GYN was going to do. (This time to measure how big the baby was, since I was measuring in the extra large baby range) At the end of the appointment Dr. Chan decided that it was time to schedule an induction. I wasn't due until March 27th, but she felt that the amniotic fluid want going to make it that long and that the baby was getting to the point of being ridiculously large. She wanted me to check into the hospital the night of March 20 and begin the induction. Since that meant there was a good chance that he would be born the next day, I begged and pleaded to bump it up a day to March 19, so that he would most likely be born March 20. That way, I explained, I could have a Picses instead of an Aries. I already lived with one pain in the ass Aries boy and I didn't want two.

I made that Friday, March 15 my last day at work and spent the next four days in a state of panicked "Hurry up and Wait!" By the time March 19th got rolling around I thought I was going to explode. We were scheduled to check into labor and delivery at 8:30 PM, so when my husband came home from work at 6:00 I made him take me to the mall. Because there was no way I could sit at home for two.more.hours. We wandered around the mall, making sure that there was nothing else "last minute" that we needed to buy for the baby and at 8:25 PM were standing in front of the front desk of Memorial Hospital's L&D floor.

We checked into our room and I get to put on the beeyootiful hospital gown that doesn't cover the ass. We started to settle in and the "fisting" started. This nurse had to stick her entire arm up my crotch to see if I had dilated at all yet. Turns out I hadn't. I hadn't thinned out, hadn't dilated -----> in fact, I was no where near "ready" to have a baby. So she gets some cervadil and again sticks her entire lower arm up my crotch to apply the cervadil (to 'ripen' up the cervix). Then she tells us to settle in and get some sleep. This part is pretty fuzzy for me....it was boring so I didn't pay much attention. I think that we called "everybody" to update them and then tried to get some sleep. I remember my poor husband trying to sleep on the little chair/bed that they have in the L&D rooms and how much he hated it. I think I had to ask him to turn the TV off at some point because while it may have been helping him sleep it was keeping ME awake and let's be honest here....who was going to be doing most of the work??? Did HE need to be well rested? Not only no, but FUCK no. We spent the overnight hours being awoken periodically by Lester the Molester in a nurse's outfit coming in to "check my progress". By morning, I'd felt like a porn star.

Feeling unsettled

I read something yesterday that still has me feeling unsettled. It was:

"You'll never regret having another child. But you MAY regret not having one."

Today, I don't want to have that regret. What, my blog buddies, do you think? Is it selfish to only have one child? Will my son suffer irreparable damage if I don't have a sibling for him? Will I regret not having another one?

I Can't Believe It's Thursday already

First of all, I have to say - because I'm mad at myself for not saying it before....Thank You! Thank you all for your kind comments in the past week. It really has meant a lot to me to hear such wonderful, supportive words from my blog buddies! Thank you also for your ideas for the skate park. My husband is really taking this over and I have passed your comments on to him.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled program - ME!

I am feeling a lot better this week. Except for one thing. My stupid ass father in law. He is not Josh's dad - Josh was my husband's half brother, they shared a mom. My father in law and my husband have not been talking since we split up this past summer. Over something ridiculous. My father in law also thinks that I'm a bitch for leaving my husband in the first place (My father in law is also a functioning alcoholic - which should tell you something about why he thought I should 'stick it out').

He ignored my husband at the funeral. I tried to talk to him at the luncheon at the church after the services. Worst of all - he completely ignored our son. His own grandson. The one who's named after him. He acted like an immature teenager who had just been told he couldn't use the car that night. Real mature - you know.

So anyway - I talked to my husbands step-mother last night and she was upset because she really wanted to come down for my sons birthday this upcoming weekend and go with us to his Chuck-e-Cheese party. Apparently, my father in law didn't want to come see us - surprise, surprise - and now she can't come because she doesn't want to make the drive by herself.

So, I am writing an open letter to my asshole father in law today. There's a good possibility he's going to find it and read it - since a lot of my husband's family were introduced to my blog this past weekend. But you know what - I don't care. I don't have the balls to tell him to his face, but I can be extremely passive-aggressive and write it out here.....for him to perhaps discover someday. You know what? He already hates me - here's some fuel for his fire:

"Dear Father-In-Law who my husband thinks (thought)

so highly of that we named our son after you: I found your behavior at the funeral last weekend to be atrocious. You flat out ignored your son after he lost his brother. I understand there has been some tension between the two of you in the last year - but this was not the time nor the place to display such feelings. You would think that such a tragedy would have opened your eyes to let petty squabbles go. I would be wrong. So let me let you in on some little secrets.

You were not father of the year. You were a drug addict and then a (functioning) alcoholic. After you and my husband's Mom broke up, two of your three children ended up in foster homes because neither of you were fit parents. My husband may well have been better off in a foster home than with you - but that's neither here nor there at this point. The difference between you and my husband's Mom is that she can admit that she was fucked up. She can admit that she wasn't a good mom and that once she got clean - she changed. And worked really hard at it. And became a good mom. So for you to sit and criticize the way my husband and I raise our son (or any of your stepchildren or your oldest daughter) is asinine. I find it humorous. In fact, it makes me realize that we are doing a great job with our son. He is bright and funny and polite and adventurous and loving. We must be OK. I also think you're a moron for the way that you treat your

son. He isn't five anymore. He needs to make his own decisions - even if they differ from how you would do them. And you know what - he's going to make mistakes. Big ones. Huge ones. We all do, that's how we learn and grow as human beings.

You are a (functioning) alcoholic. You probably did not think that your son (my husband)'s drinking was "that bad". Well, buddy, let me tell you. It was that bad. I lived with it every day for six years before I couldn't take it anymore. And for you to be upset that I didn't come running to you and your wife when I did finally leave is retarded. Would you have wanted your son to run to my Mom and Dad in the same situation? No, you would have wanted him to come home where you could help him. You don't even realize that your son has not had a drop to drink since August. You either don't realize or care how hard that has been for him. Because it has been tough - and he's doing a good job.

So guess what 'Dad'. I'm over you. I've been trying to figure out what to do to get back in your good graces since August and haven't come up with anything yet. And last night, on the phone with your wife, I realized that you are a selfish, bitter man who can't stand for things to not be 'your' way. So, we're not trying anymore. And when in a few years, you decide to reflect back on your life and realize that the grandson who was named after you is grown and doesn't know you or care about you - you can rest assured that it was your fault.

If you and my husband want to make amends - I'm going to support it 200%. Because it will be important to my husband and I only want the best for him. You'll never even see a little bit of resentment from me. 'Cause I'm a bigger person that way. But if you never do reconcile with your son - I won't mind that a bit either.

Oh yeah - lastly, maybe you could show some maturity and grow the fuck up and get over yourself."

Eek - do I sound angry and bitter???? Probably. (OK, I know I do.) But I also feel better for having got this off my chest. And like I said - if he does stumble across this - I'll deal with the consequences.

Back

We got home last night around 8:00 PM. It was good to be home, but bittersweet. My husband wanted so badly to stay with his Mom for a few more weeks. I would have liked to have stayed another week at least. I think though, that his Mom was probably glad to have us all go so that she could get some rest. There was a house full all week.

I'm still not in a very good place emotionally. It was particularly draining to me, because I'm a mom now. I sat at the funeral home on Friday for the viewing, watching Josh's friends pay their respects and looking over at the coffin of the other boy. The one whose Mom couldn't see him until three days after the accident because they had to piece him back together after the semi ran him over. I told my husband that if I ever had to put my baby in a box and bury him in the ground that they might as well shoot me - because I don't know how you go on living. I mean, I know that you find the strength and you get through it - but...............God, I can't even express how the thought of losing my son makes me feel. I can't think about it for more than a split second because the feelings I get are so overpowering that I can't breathe.

My husband and I spent the majority of the week trying to get the skate park in Josh's little town built. That's all Josh wanted was a skate park in his home town. We had been talking for a while about him coming to see us in Denver so that he could go to all the skate parks down here. But we never took the initiative to make it happen. So, we took the initiative this time. I put my fat ass in front of anyone who would listen to me. City Council members, City Planners, the director of the YMCA. I met with a reporter from their small weekly newspaper who promised that she wasn't going to rest until there was a skate park in Buffalo, WY. And it was going to be named after Josh and Travis. My husband and I wrote letters for all of these high school kids to take with them to the city council meeting tomorrow. We talked to ministers and business owners and anyone else who I thought might listen for a few minutes and help raise funds and/or awareness. By the time we left Sunday, it looked like it was going to happen. I hope so - then twenty years from now, my son can ride a skateboard there and say "Hey - I may not remember my Uncle Josh, but enough people loved him to make this happen"

I feel bitter today. I didn't want to come back to work. I just wanted to sit in bed and cry all day. But I'm at work. I'm working through the tears. Today is easier than yesterday which was easier than the day before and tomorrow will be better than today. In two weeks, my husband and son and I will be back to our normal life, almost like nothing even happened. But his Mom, will never be normal again. There will be no such thing as normal for her.

Please don't stop reading (or don't read for a while....) if I'm angry and bitter for a while. I'm not in any mental place to be funny or upbeat. But I'll get there again. I have to for Josh - because he was funny and he would want all of us to go on with our lives and live them to the fullest.

Oh yeah - one last thing. If I hear that any of you are ever in a vehicle without a seat belt - I'll personally come and kick your ass. If these two boys had been wearing their seat belts, it's very possible that they would have survived with very little injury. So tell your kids and anyone else who needs a reminder. Seat belts do save lives.

Saying Goodbye

My brother in law didn't make it. They kept him on life support long enough for the transplant teams to make it up from Denver. At least we think that's what happened. My husband is upset because he can't get a hold of anyone who was there and they were the ones who told us to not bother going up there yesterday, as there was nothing we could do and they were only allowing his Mom into the ICU.

Y'all, I'm having a really hard time wrapping my head around this. I think that if I allow myself to truly think about it, I would be consumed by the pain all the way around. I can not imagine what their mother had to go through in order to make that decision. I've always said that if there was no chance of me coming out of an accident with my brain intact that I would want to have the plug pulled on me - but I can not imagine as a mother having to make the decision to take my own child off of life support - regardless of the situation. I would like to think that I'd be able to separate myself from the situation and make a rational decision, but let's be real - how often do mothers actually make "rational" decision about our children.

I wanted to spend some moments this morning sharing some information about my little brother-in-law. I'm hoping that it will make me feel better and also will keep a bit of him alive as now all of you will know something about him as well.

Josh was a bundle of energy. He was (how should I say it? Vertically challenged?) short and I dare say that it was one of the first things that I noticed about him. That sheesh - for a short kid, he walked very tall. Josh liked to skateboard, a lot. Usually (as is the case with most teenagers) that's all he would talk about. It kind of reminded me of Bubba in "Forrest Gump" (you know how he went on and on about the shrimp). Skateboards this, skateboards that - when the small Wyoming town they called home finally built a skate park, I thought he might explode. In the last few years he had taken up golf. He and my husband would sit and talk golf until I thought my head would explode (from severe lack of interest). I don't think that Josh ever slowed down. That kid was SO smart. I'm not sure that I've ever met a teenager that was such an old soul. I remember when I was pregnant with my son, we went up there for Thanksgiving and Josh helped me burn a lullaby CD for the baby-to-be. I can only imagine that he had far better things to be doing than helping his rotund sister in law make a lullaby CD ( I think he would have been 15 at the time), but he sat with me for almost two hours, showing me how to download the songs and then burn them onto the CD.

Josh was a little misogynistic. I truly believe that he just liked to push the buttons of the all girl atmosphere in which he grew up. I always noticed a little sparkle of humor in his eyes when he'd tell his younger sister that women should "Shut the hell up and make their man some dinner". Then his sister would get upset, which in turn would upset their mom and the next thing you knew, his mom would be chasing him through the house with a frying pan.

I remember how handsome he looked in his tux at our wedding. I never could figure out if he was really excited to stand up with my husband or if he thought it was lame. He would have been 12.....I think that he was really excited. I remember the weekend of our wedding that he helped create a bridge that I don't think he knew he had. My father in law and mother in law divorced when my husband was 10 or so. My FIL carried a lot of anger toward my MIL and used to make some nasty comments about Josh and his younger sister and their lineage. But after spending the weekend of our wedding practically joined at the hip with Josh, my FIL actually admitted that he was wrong and was so glad that my husband had a brother that was sooo cool.

I still can't believe in my heart that he's gone. It seems like we'll be packing up the car later this morning to go see him and he will just be banged up and bandaged. It seems so very unfair to have a life cut down at this age. He was almost finished with high school and I never got to ask him what his college plans were. I never did ask him whether or not he found a girlfriend who would "shut-up and cook him his supper". I think what I regret the most is not making more time to sit down with him and find out what made him tick. A chance that now I'll never have.

My husband is really torn up. I still can't get him to talk to me about it. I'm not sure that he will for a few weeks. We have some errands to run and later this morning we'll be heading north up I-25.

I meant it yesterday - hold those you love extra close, always. You never know when your time will be through. God Bless you all and your families, please continue to pray for mine....

Please, please send us your prayers

My husband's 17 year old brother was in a car accident this morning. His friend who was driving the car apparently fell asleep at the wheel and both of them were ejected from the car. His friend didn't make it.

My brother-in-law has massive internal bleeding, including in the brain and lungs. It doesn't sound like he's going to make it. But please, please keep my BIL and my MIL in your thoughts and prayers today. I can't imagine what my MIL is going through.

Right now, we can't do anything to help. He is in ICU in Casper and they will not allow more than 2 family members at a time in his room and there is an hour max on visits. My husband's older and youngest sisters are on their way to Casper right now and we may leave in a few hours to head up there as well.

I'm so upset that I don't know what to do. His brother was only 17 and was extremely smart and funny (in addition to be a pain in the ass on occasion....). My husband is broken up over this and won't talk to me about it. I feel so frustrated because there is nothing I can do for anyone to make this better. So I'm sitting here on my blog and cleaning the crap out of our house.

If I'm not around for a couple of days it's because we went to Casper.

Everyone please give your prayers and hold those you love close to you. And tell them that you love them. My husband hadn't seen his brother in over a year and I know that's part of the reason why he's so upset....so don't waste any time with your loved ones. Life is unpredictable and you never know what tomorrow brings. We certainly didn't go to bed last night thinking that this was a possibility for our agenda today.

It's my turn :)

I've been lucky enough to be interviewed by Cori and these were my customized questions. I have answered her questions as seen below and now I have to interview 5 of my commenters. (Like I even have 5 commenters - but what the hell - it's all fun, right???) If you comment - I will give you 5 personalized questions to answer either here or on your blog.


Again, these were Cori's questions to me:

1. What family member are you closest to? OoOH - that's a tough one. Obviously my husband and son, but I don't think that was where you were headed. I'm pretty close with everyone in my family except my Dad - but having to pick, I would say either my sister or my mom.

2. You go out to a very slick club and a dear friend offers to pick up your tab. What do you drink all night long? Honestly, I would drink the same thing I would drink even if someone wasn't picking up the tab. I'd stick with beer. I'm a beer kind of gal. Every now and again I'll drink a vodka/tonic, but mostly beer. Usually a Fat Tire or a Hefeweisen if I'm feeling particularly "fancy" or a good old cheap MGD otherwise.

3. If you were able to live anywhere in the continental US, where do you live? Money and family ties are not an issue. Yeah - money and family not being an issue I would have several places to live. I would have a "summer" home in the Sangre de Cristo's in Colorado with horses and a lake on the property big enough to boat and jet-ski on. Then I would have an apartment near Central Park in Manhattan. Of course, I think I would probably have a place in the Smoky Mountains between North Carolina and Tennessee and I would definitely have a place in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Shit - if money were no object, I'd just travel from place to place to place and not have a home. I'd stay somewhere long enough to really "experience" it, and then move on when we got bored.

4. What has been your toughest birthday? Believe it or not, I found 25 to really suck. I don't know why - but it did. 30 did not bother me at all, but 32 (this last one) was a little bothersome as well. But nothing was as bad as 25. I just felt that at 25 I should have been married and starting a family (I hadn't yet even met my husband until I was close to turning 26) or that I should have been farther along with my career. I think after that birthday, I gave up on the expectations I had laid out for myself and it made the birthdays easier to deal with.

5. If...and I did if, as in hypothetically...I were to buy you candles, bubblebath, lotion, exfoliator, shower gel, and bath salts, what scent should I purchase? I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the Pear Glace from Victoria's Secret, it's my absolute favorite of all time. My husband got me some Black Cherry Vanilla stuff from Bath and Body Works for Christmas last year that I also like a lot.


All right folks - today is your day to comment and be interviewed. Step right up!

I wanted a boy

Having just read Kristine's post about the pleasures of raising girls and also after watching my best girl friend Laurie with her teenaged daughter I have to shout it out again folks - Thank God I have a boy!

Now, along these same lines I feel like I must clarify (for the internet) once and for all WHY I wanted a boy, because even three years later there is still some misunderstanding among certain members of my family, who still think (no matter how much I protest) that the only reason I wanted a boy was because my husband wanted a boy to carry on the family name. Let's just say that particular reason was gravy.

There were many reasons I wanted a boy. The first being is that "everyone" says that boys are easier to raise. Not as many hormones, no drama queen moments, etc. (Now that he's here, I have to tell you the part of no drama queen moments is a bold faced LIE)

I also wanted a boy because boys are cheaper. Supposedly. Boys don't need 18 tons of beauty products once they hit the teenage years. Boys need a tube of Clearisil and some gel. Boys also don't need a closet stuffed full of clothes - they need a few pair of pants (jeans) and a few sports related shirts, a few band related shirts and maybe a couple of sweaters. And even though the "sneaker du-jour" will probably set me back a few hundred bucks - it's nothing like the closet full of shoes that a girl will demand.

Lastly, I wanted a boy because little boys always love their Mommy's. Even when they get older. This is not always the case with girls. Witness my family lineage. My grandma HATED my great-grandma - even know that Meemaw has been dead over 10 years, my grandma still talks terribly about her. My mother HATES my grandma. And I mean that. She hates her. And my sister and I - well, we love our mother, but......(there's always a but) we have agreed to have our relationship with her on my mother's terms. My mother is not the typical mother and my sister and I have just come to accept that it's OK. Everyone is different and that's what makes the world go around. But, when it came time for me to have a child, I thought long and hard about how I knew that I couldn't handle it if my child actually hated me. I mean, I know that all children will tell you that they hate you as they're running down the hall and slamming their bedroom door. But I mean really hate. So again, that's why I wanted a boy.

So that internet, is why I kept telling the doctors that if they didn't see outdoor plumbing as he was coming out to shove him back in there as he obviously wasn't done cooking yet.

In Case You Were Wondering

"Well, my Mom thinks I'm cool"

In hindsight, this comeback is not witty, clever or even a comeback really. Instead, it is a very sad statement about my the current state of my life.

Enjoy.