Confession

So, some of my online friends that have not "met" me have asked to get to know me a little better. They are passing around a "confessions" post of sorts and I thought I would hop aboard. It will finally be a little light reading compared to my last...oh...20 posts. ;) So, here goes nothing!

You have things you tell others, like how much weight you would like to loose, but never how much you actually weigh. This is not the time to tell your weight! It is the time to tell your other fun secrets about your guilty pleasures. I'm sure there is one movie, one song or one book that you have not told others you are into. Spill it!

A list of my "guilty pleasures" and/or weird stuff about me. :)

OK - let's just get the biggee out of the way. I'm a Vampire Diaries junkie. I read the books back in 7th grade (totally gave my age away with that one) and was hooked. No, the tv series is nothing like the book, but I like it for what it is. And just in case you were wondering - I'm pro-Damon. :)

my favorite lunch to eat by myself - white bread with an American cheese slice on it...topped with bbq potato chips and sweet pickles. And yes, I only eat those when I'm NOT pregnant. ;) Hey - don't knock it til you tried it!

I read smutty romance novels when I'm stressed...which is a lot! I don't want to think through a book when life has filled by brain to capacity. My favorite writer is Kathleen Woodiwiss. She's not trashy, but still thorough. ;)

While the boys are napping, I watch baby birth stories. And sometimes I even cry at the actual birth. I don't know those people, but I know what they are feeling and it brings me back to the births of mine.

How I read the newspaper - grocery store ads, coupons, comics, sports and then the actual news stories. I feel I have to prepare myself for the doom and gloom of the world before reading about it.

I don't like cake. Never have, never will. I'll eat some to be nice, but I really can't stand it. I would prefer donuts for my birthday. Or a pile of reese peanut butter cups - yeah!

No one can talk to me if I am watching my football on tv. My daddy raised me right! At the age of 5, I was sitting at the games cheering my heart out for a 2 - 9 team. Now they are MUCH better...and I still cheer like that. Go Jackets!

I have been bitten by the texting bug and I hate myself for it. It is so impersonal and utter crap, yet I can't stop. It's fine at the hospital while Matthew is sleeping or to get a big message shared with several people. But to ask how your day is...just talk in the phone - not type in the phone.

I still have shirts from high school that I wear. I just refuse to pay $35 dollars for a piece of cotton with sleeves attached to it. I get clothes for my birthday and Christmas. Those are my new outfits for the year. Every once in while I shop the clearance rack. I'm a fan of shop-looking, not shop-buying. Don't get me on shoes - I loathe shopping for those!

Ok, so that's me. The real me. What about you?

Yeah - this is from our first summer in NC. NO string bikini's nowadays! ;)

Oldie but goodie

Yes, MANY special/medical needs moms swear by this writing. It completely sums up our way of life perfectly and helps others to understand. We don't want pity, we don't want awards, we don't want recognition...we just want the best for our children.
So - without further ado, I give you Holland. :) It's a GREAT place to be!

WELCOME TO HOLLAND

by
Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

Mother's day

Yeah I know - I'm a slacker. Sorry. Two "healthy" kids is a lot more to keep up with than one sick baby that took three naps and another child that would take three hour naps. Yes, things have changed! First, I want to thank Marie for allowing me to be a mom to two healthy boys. Without her, this mother's day would be very different. I would still be a mother of two, but I might not have been able to hold and hug on two sweet boys like I did today. Thank you for making that possible.

Did you know that I'm actually not a "fan" of mother's day? Just like I'm not really a fan of Valentine's day. Oh yes, I've COMPLETELY enjoyed my day today! It was wonderful and I'm ready for another day like it...tomorrow? :) Guess not... A day that didn't start until 11:30am when I finally got out of bed after breakfast, snuggles, presents and just relaxing and reading a book. I've been "off duty" today - no meds, no tube feeds, no grilling cheese sandwiches, no diapers, no reminding to wash hands - no worries...only the "good" stuff. :) The best present was the wildflower William picked for me when I came back home from shopping this afternoon.

But there are many moms that are not enjoying this day. Moms whose baby boy is off in Iraq. Moms whose little girl passed of cancer. Moms that have been separated from their children due to car accidents, disease, drugs, disasters and custody battles. Moms whose arms are empty and their hearts are full. Moms who never met their little one and cling to an ultrasound picture. Moms that know it is unnatural to bury your child, when they are supposed to bury you. Ladies that are moms in their heart, but due to health, society or culture can't become the "mom" you and I would recognize on the street.

Moms are everywhere - teachers, nurses, counselors, girl/boy scout leaders, bakers, secretaries and ministers. Being a mom is not biological. Being a mom is not a right. Being a mom is a reward. A precious gift that many take for granted. Just because you have five children, that does not make you any more "mom" than someone with one. Just because your child has special needs or is gifted in music does not make you more "mom" than the stereotypical soccer mom in a minivan.

A mom by heart, because not all moms give birth, have a fierce love for their children. A protectiveness that is so powerful it is hard to describe the depth some mothers would go to for their children. All mothers wish to keep their child from pain, rejection, fear and just general unpleasantness. Being a mother is giving yourself the smallest slice of birthday cake in favor of your family getting their fill of sweet moments. Being a mother means not caring if you are up all hours of the night with a newborn, it's wonderful just rocking them in stillness with no interruptions. A mother knows what you are up to, because chances are she tried to do it herself 30 years ago. Moms smile at the gifts of both dandelions and worms, because they were given by her child that sees joy in everything. Moms kiss scraped knees, rub sour tummies and come armed with a can of magic away monster spray.

But some moms put their child on an airplane to bootcamp. Some mothers place tiny bundles into a grave. Somewhere a mother is fighting over where they can possibly stick a new IV, instead of please eat your broccoli. A first time mom is sitting in disbelief that her child, the one she has prayed for her entire 9 years of marriage, as a congenital birth defect that is not compatible with life, instead of wondering what to wear to her baby shower. A mom has been told the tumor has grown, instead of being told her child is in the 75% percentile for height. Another mom is letting her "baby" of 12 years go and deciding to give life saving parts of her child to other children in need, instead of sharing hand me down clothes. Another mom was just told her third try at IVF has failed once again, instead of figuring out how to install a carseat. Somewhere a mom has run to the phone for two years every time it has rang with hope in her heart that they finally found him, instead of refusing to pick it up incase it is a telemarketer.

So today, I'm thinking of the moms that are not recognized. The heartbroken, the weary, the strained and the rejected. And yet they are strong, amazing, resilient and awe-inspiring (though you could never tell them that!). Today is for you. Today is for your memories, your future. Today is all about you and your child(ren). Happy Mother's day, in the shameful event that no one told you that today.