The worst thing for me to do is to ever regret any friendship. Every one of them have enriched me in one way or another. I had a long talk about this recently with my sponsor and she helped me realize that from the heartbreak of a childhood friendship gone terribly wrong and painful to those lost as an adult. From friends who have just moved on from my life to those who have been and (hopefully) always will be a part of me.
You all matter.
And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness for the thing I’ve done you blame me for. (But then I guess we know, there’s blame to share.) And none of it seems to matter anymore…
This weekend I needed a mental health weekend. Time to regroup, rethink and reboot. So to speak. Here are some of the brilliant insights my brain stumbled upon.
Exercise can only get you so far before you have to resort to Ben & Jerry’s. Which of course will lead to more exercise but at least you will feel the satisfaction of devouring the frozen goodness that is the very definition of awesome therapy in a pint size container.
If you lay really still and don’t give in to the urge to move when someone peeks into your room to see if you are sleeping late, you can actually buy yourself some more alone time to check out TMZ, E! and People to see what those crazy celebrities did while you were sleeping.
Going to a hockey game really is a great way to release tension. There is just nothing more beautiful than the sound of a puck (or a hockey player) slamming into the glass. (I told my husband the most romantic gift he could give me would be a mix tape of checks into the boards, pucks hitting glass and the sound of hundreds of amped up fans cheering when a fight breaks out. Ooooh baby!)
Unhappy people make people unhappy. (I read that on a blog this weekend and for the life of me I cannot find it again.)
Old friends can make you laugh like no one else on earth. Sometimes, just hearing their voice on your voicemail makes your heart happier. Other times, it’s friends who send you smart-ass videos by Pink with notes that call you a dork and thanks you for not being a stupid girl which make you wonder “really is that a compliment or an insult and why would you ever even think of me when you see that… I just may be insulted by it except that you have me laughing too hard to be insulted.“
Kids really are resilient. And? They have amazing ways of seeing the world. I recommend spending some time with some if you can. Even if they include that scary breed of kid known as “teenager.” They’ll teach you a thing or two. And really what weekend is complete without being schooled by a teenager?
When you put your cold feet on your husband in the middle of the night, using the excuse “But you’ve been in bed longer so you are warmer” doesn’t endear them to your cause. Or warm your feet. Oh, and when they are putting their socks on the next morning and wake you up, they will hear you if you mumble something about not deserving socks to warm their feet.
The scariest words to write on your first book are not the first ones that start out the story and get your reader involved. They are…the end. Sometimes even scarier? To be continued…
You have trained your husband and children very, very well when you bitch about needing to get your hair done because “Omigosh how can you not see that grey?! Look closer!” and they all at different times, without conferring with each other respond, “I don’t see any grey.”
Only Oprah can bring Letterman and the NBC “L” guy (who is not Conan but should be) together on a couch for chips. I bet she could also bring about world peace. Or at the very least, bring Conan back to my tv!
Right before school started in August, my daughter’s best friend moved away. She only moved 3 hours away, but it certainly wasn’t local anymore. I’ve watched how this has changed Gabriella. It is in subtle ways that unless you know her, you may not see it.
She seems a little lost, I hear close friends of ours say.
She and her best friend met the first day of kindergarten and formed a bond immediately. It’s not like they were joined at the hip 24/7, but they did a lot of things together. When they were apart they still knew someone always had their back. They knew that in any new situation or circle of friends, there was always someone they could count on and lean on or just simply have the comfort of knowing they would be there.
Where is my safety net to catch me when I fall or my tether to keep me grounded? I see her wonder.
I have talked to her about it a few times. She usually just shrugs and moves on, unable to find the words to express what she feels or misses or is searching for.
I get it! I tell her
You see, Gabriella’s best friend’s mom was one of my best friends. She was my safety net. My tether to keep me grounded. The one I knew always had my back. The friend where I could always and would always be myself.
She seems a little lost. They say about me.
I do for myself what I try to convince Gabriella to do: Branch out. Let yourself be open to new friends. Accept invitations to be with new people. Let your guard down a little bit. Okay, let your guard down a lot.
But where is my safety net to catch me when I fall or my tether to keep me grounded? I don’t know anymore!
One thing she has learned even though she is only in third grade is people form their “tribe” early. Most of the girls in her class have been going to the same school for 4 years now. They have their best friends and their tribes. It isn’t written but it is there. She’s made new friends. She’s joined new groups. Yet, she still searches for her tribe. She searches for where she belongs somewhat afraid to let her guard down without knowing someone has her back. I see her searching and wish I could just plunk her down in a group and let her feel “established” there. But, I can’t do that. She has to find her place and her tribe on her own. And it hurts to watch.
It is no different with me. Try as I might, I cannot fit into the tribe that I am around the most either. I try to accept invitations (when offered), I try to join in on the laughter (when it isn’t an inside joke) and I try to open myself up and not keep them at arms length.
Apparently, I am not very good at it. At not keeping people at arms length. No matter how hard I try. I can’t help but wonder if maybe jumping in the way I did was the wrong thing to do.
Maybe I am just a loner and just really put that vibe out there.
Maybe I am incapable of social interaction that lasts longer than a lunch.
Maybe it is the addict in me that doesn’t know how to just let go and get involved.
Or maybe I just really don’t fit in.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that I would give anything for my daughter to be happy and for me to figure out the secret to leaving loneliness behind and embracing new friendships. For now, I will do what I always do…the only thing I know to do: Smile and laugh and never let ‘em know it hurts. (Well, that and start looking at places for a fresh start.)
I was touched by the outpouring of love I received when I mentioned it was the anniversary of the day my Mom died. People both close to me and casual acquaintances left me words of encouragement through emails, Facebook or phone calls. I, of course, chose to hibernate the day away. I did not want to pretend to be happy or act as if nothing was wrong. It is just easier to do that when you only have your dog and your son at home with you. One doesn’t ask questions and the other already knows the reason for sudden tears.
More than one person asked me to share a favorite memory of Mom to help me think of the good times and make me smile. I love that idea. But to choose one favorite memory would be impossible. I suppose I would have to chose one thing I am most thankful for when it comes to something Mom ensured that my brother, my sister and I all had the ability to do without effort or falseness: The ability to laugh no matter what is going on around us.
You want the humor? We can bring the humor. Sometimes it happens to be at inappropriate times, inappropriate places or under inappropriate circumstances, though. Mom used to call those the “church giggles.”
Here is your lesson in “church giggles.”
Something strikes you as amusing (real or just a passing thought) at a time when you should not be laughing and the next thing you know, you start to giggle. The more you try to stop, the harder it is and the more you’re giggling. Before you know it tears are streaming down your face as your shoulders are shaking and people around you are wondering if you have lost your mind or are having some sort of fit. The “church giggles” can strike at any time in any places. Just know that it will be a time or place when laughter is usually not “the thing to do” at that time. Funerals are a classic place to get the “church giggles.” Or? When someone is giving a speech (not a funny one either) and you begin to feel the need to giggle and cannot stop it, you should brace yourself for the full on giggles. Don’t bother to apologize while in this state. That only makes the laughter worse and harder to stop.
It has happened to me at, yes, funerals as well as PTA meetings, meetings with school administrators, speeches (both by strangers and friends alike), as well as just every day, average situations that do not call for laughter.
The best example of the “church giggles” was during Mary Tyler Moore on the Episode “Chuckles Bites the Dust.” Here is a part of the show. The giggles start around the 3 minute mark. The clip is long but the roller coaster emotions sure do fit me to a tee on this day. That whole show with its inappropriate jokes and laughter mirror my life. Well, except knowing anyone who was “shelled by an elephant” thing.
But it isn’t just laughing at inappropriate times. It is laughing at whatever life throws at you. I have laughed sitting beside more hospital beds than I can count. I can find humor in the situation. I have laughed when it seems as if there is nothing funny. Trust me, something is funny and can be found. You need someone to help you find the funny, come sit by me. We’ll laugh.
Never was it more evident than when my brother, my sister and I were all together in December. We laughed at everything. We laughed at each other. We laughed at ourselves. We laughed at our family. We laughed at strangers. We probably even laughed at you! The point is this. Mom gave each one of us something special that is unique to each of us but she gave all of us something that we can share with each other and with those around us: The ability to laugh in life’s face. And, oh boy, do we laugh!
That’s what I remember (and carry with me) most when it comes to Mom.
It’s time to find what was lost and build what was broken.
January 1, 2010
I knew it was happening. I could feel it. I could see it. Sometimes you know. Yet, even knowing doesn’t mean you can do anything about it. Maybe it started when Mom died. Maybe it started before then. I don’t know. But it really came to fruition in 2009. I lost myself. I lost who I was. I lost the core of what made me a happy, healthy person. I really don’t think it is important to know when or why or even how. What matters is that I finally reached yet another rock bottom where I have to make changes. And? I am going to make this the year that I do it. Why this year? No reason except…I absolutely have to do it. For me. For my kids. For my husband. For my friends. But honestly, it is really for me.
I guess you could say I lost my way in a few areas: Blogging, personally, writing. They all intertwine so when one goes south, it can carry the rest with them.
I will start with the most obvious one to those of you who are reading this.
Blogging
Wow. The face of blogging has changed so dramatically I couldn’t even find the words for it if I tried. (And I have tried.) You see, way back in the stone ages (like 1990), I helped my husband with a BBS. That was what I knew of the Interwebs. I loved it. I could sit in the comfort of my house and actually talk to people that were in their house. Amazing. We had games, forums and chats. I loved it! By 1993, I was learning more about what was out there and saw that it was more than just for tech geeks. In 1995/96, I learned the wonder of online journals. (Thank you Al Gore for inventing the amazing Internet!) I had a sleepless baby which led to many nights of feedings and surfing. It was then that I branched away from what my husband was doing and started my own online journal. After time, it morphed into a website with real live links to other websites. I was connected, baby! I kept my website and journal going in one form or another for years.
It was in 2003 that I started what you find here: Mommy Needs Coffee. From Blogger to my own url, I had found my very own space on the Internet. I loved it! I wrote stories about my kids, my life, my observations on both and people came. They actually showed up and read what I had to write. Which of course led me to their blogs where I read what they had to say and commented. It was a small but fun community. A blogger get together meant you all showed up to chat and “hang out” online. You knew that other bloggers had your back when it came to haters. It was fun. I knew where I fit in to the small part of the big picture.
I blogged on while others quit.
I blogged on when there was a huge controversy over whether or not to accept ads.
I blogged on when the term “mommyblogger” was synonymous with fluff and narcissism. I still knew who I was and where I belonged.
I blogged on through the “review or not review” controversy. I blogged because to me it was gratifying and gave me a wonderful outlet for my writing, my thoughts and my silliness. Through my blogging I found friends, jobs and an agent. I also lost friends. Sometimes the written word can do more damage than good. But through it all, I knew who I was and where I belonged. Though the landscape had changed, the core was the same. Many of us who were blogging for a long time felt the growing pains but blogged on.
And then came the Big Change. I don’t really know when the big change actually occurred or what caused the massive shift in blogging, but it shook the core of blogging to the roots. Are you a review blogger or a writing blogger? Are you both? Can you be both? Do you have content that is yours or paid for content? Can I trust you or are you being paid to say what you say? Where are the stories? Where is the writing that drew me into this amazing blogging world?
More than once I tried to express myself but it was shouting into the wind. The noise level was too high. The chatter was too loud. Old voices were drowned out. At least I felt mine was. I no longer knew where my place in the blogging world was. I was a mom. I blogged. I helped bring respect to the term “mommyblogger” with both my writing and the mommybloggers.com site. Yet, I could not identify with what was not being called “mommyblogger” in the crazy changes taking place. It was all about reviews and blogger junkets and what trips you were invited on and what speaking engagements or sponsorships you could garner. It was insanity.
At least it was from the point of view from someone who had been at this for so long. Yes, I was invited on some blogger junkets. I did go when it worked for my family. When it did not, I would have to pass and offer up a name or two of someone who would be able to go and enjoy it. Yes, I did reviews for products I could use and enjoy. And, yes, I did enjoy that, too. I am not against any of that. It was just that somewhere in there the writing, the stories, the real life of the bloggers became over-shadowed. I missed reading stories.
Let’s not even get into the pressure to measure up.
“Were you invited to ______ junket?”
“Did you get an invite to go to Disney?”
“Were you asked to be on this panel of experts?”
“Did you get a free ______?”
What?
Had it become a competition? What are the rules? Where is the master list of A-Listers who go on these things? Do I need to pursue these PR reps or just hope they find me? What about my SEO? Where do I rank? Why isn’t that company talking to me? Push! Push! Push! Get out there so everyone knows your blog! Get known so you can go on trips! Become an expert in mommyblogging so every PR firm in the country wants you!
What?
I was lost. All I wanted to do was write and enjoy the writing of others. Yes, of course the trips, the games, the products, the gaming systems and other things I was honored to review are an awesome perk IN ADDITION TO the writing. But where did an old school blogger who just wanted to write and enjoy it fit in? SEO meant nothing to me. Getting aggressive and going after sponsorships for conferences was foreign to me. Telling a PR rep that I should go on his/her junket felt rude to me. Suddenly, I just didn’t fit in to the very genre that I help give a good name to when it was once just mud. Now what?
I stopped blogging. I couldn’t find my voice. Do I write for the readers, the PR reps, the possible job offers? Could I just write my blog the way I have always written my blog and not get lost in all of the noise and chaos that was around me? I have seen good friends of mine who have been at this blogging gig as long as I have succeed. They write a good blog and get invited to junkets and do reviews. They found their place. Why couldn’t I find mine?
So I stopped blogging.
Then, for reasons I will never know but am more thankful for than I could put into words, I was contacted for a blogger opportunity in DC. I had not blogged in ages. In fact, I almost turned it down. Thankfully, my good friend Dave would not give up on me and just flat out booked my ticket for me. He may never know what that meant to me. Forced into a situation where I wanted to go and felt that I should go, I actually embraced this blogger junket with excitement (and a bit of trepidation). I was not on anyone’s A-list anymore. I was no longer a blogger with a name. I was just a blogger who may or may not update that very few people really knew about or read. But somewhere deep inside I knew that I absolutely had to go on this trip. I had to go.
It was on this trip to DC that I met with the president of A Partnership for a Drug Free America, lobbyists on Capitol Hill, Senators, Congressman, the Five Moms (whom I have met and worked with for a few years already) and, yes, Dr. Drew Pinsky.
That one trip changed everything. Everything. How is it that one person (though so very qualified in his field and so very used to dealing with addicts and the bullshit and baggage they throw down) could meet me, have a few conversations with me and then say to me the very things I HAD to hear? Not things I wanted to hear or would benefit from hearing, but the very things I HAD to hear to move forward. That one trip– and it came through my blog– was life changing.
And? It made me question the things I do and why I do them. Including blogging. (And writing.) I can’t share what he said to me. Not yet. But trust me when I say that after almost 10 years in recovery, no one has ever nailed down my issues as fast, as accurately and as matter-of-fact as Dr. Drew did. He really hit a spot that not only no one else has hit, no one else has even seemed to see it.
It made a difference. A huge difference.
It made me stop and think.
Where do I fit in?
Do I want to fit in?
Is there a place for someone so old school as myself?
Can I still do this and be true to myself and what I want out of a blog?
Do I blog for me or for the new faces in the crowd that may be watching/reading/taking note?
The answer took a long time in coming. (Which is one of the reasons I have been so quiet here.)
I blog for me.
For me.
Me.
If someone thinks it is good and wants to comment, I love that! If a PR rep thinks I am a good fit for their product or junket, we will talk. If someone out there likes what I have to say well enough to add me to some random list of “Top Bloggers”, then that is up to them.
For now, this blog, this writing, these stories are for me.
If you enjoy them, that makes my heart so happy. If you don’t, there are so many blogs out there I am sure you will find one you enjoy. However, for now, I shall make this blog what it once was: My outlet. My place to share stories and observations on life, love and motherhood. I hope you stick around but if you don’t, I understand. Old school blogging and story telling isn’t for everyone.
Wow. No posts since October? What happened? Did life get in the way or something?!
Yes. And or something.
Short version:
Flu
Pneumonia
H1N1
Pneumonia
DC Trip
ER
ER
PTA
Book
Homeschool
ER
Book
PTA
Wedding
Nervous Breakdown
PTA
That is about what my life has been like for the past few months.
However, when I got an email from someone dear to me who told me they were sad I shut the blog down, that made me sad.
Sooooo, here I am. Give me a chance to figure out life, blogging and…well, life. Because none of those are the same anymore and I am seriously struggling to find my way and my place in it all.
Here is a token picture of me and Gabriella taking a break during a snowball fight in Katy the day before my Dad’s wedding. (I know the rules of blogging. Pictures make people forgive lack of posting.) And, yes, I did say my Dad’s wedding.
Enough snow to make snowballs and get soaking wet.
I went to DC to take “The Hill” and DC took my breath away- Meeting the Five Moms and Dr. Drew
October 25, 2009
When I was contacted by Edelman –the PR firm who represents the CHPA (Consumer Healthcare Products Association) and Five Moms– to attend meetings in Washington DC, it was a no-brainer for me as to whether or not I would say yes. (I would.) I have been in contact with the Five Moms organization since I first met them two and a half years ago. Seeing as it fell during Red Ribbon week in the month of October which also happens to be National Medicine Abuse Awareness Month and I happen to be a recovering addict, it all seemed to be fated to come together. When my daughter became so sick, I almost didn’t go. I almost missed the opportunity of a lifetime for myself. But she began to get better, my husband stepped up to offer support and I was able to go on this amazing journey to DC. I was able to see things, hear things and meet people who would quite literally change my life.
I cannot tell you how many times I have sat myself down in front of this computer to write about my visit to DC only to stare at the screen unable to find the any words to share what a wonderful experience I had. And then sometimes the words come rushing at me so fast I can’t seem to sort them out. Do I start by sharing the facts? Do I tell you first about the people I met or the things I learned? Should I share the informative nature of my trip or the deeply emotional level?
I realize I will never get to the informative part until I wade through the emotional part. And for me, there was very little about this trip that was not emotional.
As a recovering addict with 9 years, 7 months, and 18 days (but who’s counting) without falling back into my drugging ways, I take anything that has to do with drug abuse awareness seriously. The chance to go to DC to meet with a group of people as passionate about this as I am was beyond amazing. I knew I was going to go to DC with bloggers Caroline and Janice and meet with the Five Moms and that was enough to excite me. Then they threw in the president of Partnership for a Drug Free America and the passionate people at CHPA and I felt like I would jump out of my skin with anticipation. Do they stop there? No they let us know we will be meeting with Congressmen while the Five Moms and CHPA encourage them to learn more and make changes that are just “common sense” to laws regarding OTC medication. Could it get better for me?
I didn’t think so.
While I was literally crackling with the energy in the room that first night at dinner, they announced their special guest who would not only be joining us for dinner that night but would also be joining us on Capitol Hill the next morning. Dr. Drew Pinsky. That did it. That sent me over the edge into tears. Being the always demure and subtle person I am, I blurted out to the crowded room, “Shut! Up!”
Some people may not understand why I would react emotionally to meeting Dr. Drew in person. I have tried to come up with another analogy that may make some sense to people. I know many people know Dr. Drew and may recognize him from VH1’s Celebrity Rehab. I suppose it would be similar you being an actor and being able to sit down and talk with James Lipton of the Inside the Actor’s Studio. To have him zero in on something about you that is exactly the right thing at the right time that no one else has shared before but puts all the pieces of the puzzle together. He is a mentor, a supporter and someone you admire. Someone who “gets you” in a way “outsiders” just don’t. Okay, so it might be a bad analogy but it was the best I could come up with. (Janice jokingly compared it to a Christian meeting Billy Graham.) However you want to look at it is fine with me as long as you can grasp that it is not a celebrity thing. It is about an addict and a person who does amazing work with and in support of addicts.
In a night that I thought would simply be the kick off to an amazing trip to support the Five Moms and StopMedicineAbuse.org, it became something deeply personal. I am wrapping my mind around conversations I had that night and I will share them with you. I promise.
Right now, I want you to go visit StopMecineAbuse.org and familiarize yourself with it. I want you to meet the Five Moms and read their stories. I want you to go to CHPA and see what they do. Familiarize yourself with Partnership for a Drug Free America. Those are the ones this trip was really about. I will share with you what I learned– the facts about OTC medicine abuse that I learned from these amazing people I met and I will share the personal with you as well.
Because as much as I try, I cannot separate the two. In my life they are too tied together.
So many of you have emailed or asked me on Facebook how Gabriella is doing. She is still sick. She is still baffling doctors. We are still waiting on test results.
The first phone call came yesterday saying she is dehydrated and has pneumonia. And? They are waiting on more test results from her blood to find more answers. Oh, the agony of watching my poor baby girl while the amazing nurses tried to draw blood from her dehydrated body. I know how much it hurt her. She was such a trooper! I cried just a bit watching but never when she saw me. They said they were still waiting on some blood work results to come back but one of the results showed inflammation in her body but not what they would see with pneumonia. (So what is it?) Her ears hurt but they see no sign of infection. Yet, she hurts and cannot hear very well at all. They “see” no reason for that.
I want answers.
The second call came today saying they were not sure about the pneumonia. (I saw the x-ray. Her lungs definitely had something going on there.) When I questioned it, I was told the nurse would call me back. She, too, saw in inconsistencies with chart results. I insisted that it was the doctor that needed to call. I wanted to talk to her doctor and make him explain what is going on with my baby girl. The doctor never called me back.
I want answers!
We are going on day 8 of a fever that does not go below 100 degrees and topped off at 104.7. I know fevers are meant to fight the germs but this is too long. I give her ibuprofen around the clock and her fever goes down to near 100. But doesn’t break. It only broke a few hours on Saturday. Then it shot back up.
I want answers now!
She doesn’t want to eat. She doesn’t want to drink. (Though I am pouring Gatorade and water in her around the clock.) She even refuses to eat a Popsicle.
She is breaking my heart. All she wants is to sleep and lay on the couch. Many times with me there. Most of the time just alone and in a zone. She is fighting something we don’t know about. She is battling an enemy where our only weapon is antibiotics and hope that it works.
I want answers now from someone!
And of course I am exhausted so when this song I love and have heard a million times came on the radio tonight, I pulled over and sobbed. A phrase here and there sucker punched me. (I know the song is about something more serious that we (think) we are battling, but the words got to me anyway.)
By the light of the moon
She rubs her eyes
Sits down on the bed and starts to cry
And there’s something less about her
And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
So I sit down and I cry too
But don’t let her see
Sleepless Nights, Fevers and Worry: This Mom’s Weekend
October 12, 2009
I am up blogging in the middle of the night because I cannot get rid of this horrible, scary nagging feeling about my daughter and her being so sick. I check on her about every 10 minutes. I check her temperature. I put cool rags on her. I rub her back and will her little body to be healthy, be strong and fight this fever and whatever virus is attacking her.
You see, Gabby has been sick for days. Not the “Oh, honey, here is some juice and Advil, go back to bed” sick but the kind of sick where we are watching her around the clock and piggybacking meds to attempt to keep her fever down. (Not very successful but keeping it lower than the danger zone.)
She complained on Wednesday of not feeling very well. By that night she had a 104.7 fever. We medicated her, called the doctor and got her in to see her pediatrician first thing on Thursday. He said she has the flu and it was most likely the H1N1 version. (Most likely?) Since everyone and their brother are freaking out about the swine flu, doctors tend to be seriously under reacting. We were told to keep her hydrated and keep up with the medicine to keep her fever lower and let them know if she became worse. Friday we managed to keep her fever between 102-103 degrees. She seemed to maintain and the doctor said that would be normal.
Of course Friday night after the doctors have gone home to the comfort of their homes, all hell breaks loose with my daughter.
Her fever shoots up. She begins screaming with ear pain. We manage to get that under control. (I think her eardrum burst and gave her the relief she needed. I called the “on call triage nurse” who said that we were doing the right thing and if she got worse and I felt it was life threatening to take her to the ER.
Can I even begin to tell you how much I do not want to take her to an ER with every germ and virus known (and unknown) to man lurking there on the weekends?
In the wee hours of Saturday morning she begins screaming and crying because her bladder hurts. After much water and Advil, the pain subsided and she was pain free within an hour or so. She is still having problems but they are much better.
Finally Saturday afternoon her fever broke. There was much rejoicing. She was getting better AND we avoided the ER.
Until Sunday morning rolled around. Before the sun even rose, her fever spiked again. By mid-morning she was crying and in severe agony with her other ear in pain. I felt so helpless. Hasn’t my baby been through enough already?
We started the piggyback pain meds again only to see that we cannot break her fever. Again.
Clint has been amazing. While I stay up all night and make sure her fever stays in the “safe zone” every couple of hours, he takes the day shift while I sleep. Tag team parenting at its best.
Right now, I should be trying to sleep. Yet, here I am counting the minutes until her doctor’s office opens. Tonight just fills me with restlessness and worry. Tonight has gripped me with fear. Tonight I can’t sleep. What if she needs me tonight? So I sit and listen. And pace. And check on her. And pray. And read. And do all I can to keep my panic attacks that I am so prone to having at bay. For her.
We are sleeping in rooms that attached to each other. Both on couches and within easy hearing range. I can hear her breathing as I type this. I can’t sleep. I just continually, obsessively check on her.
Is there anything as powerful as a sick child that can keep a mom running on nothing more than worry, adrenaline and coffee for days without crashing?
My baby is sick and I have not been able to make her better. That hurts. Please, just let my baby be okay. My little girl just wants to feel better. I just want her to feel better. I want her healthy. That is my plea and my prayer for my girl.
If a mother’s worry were medicine, she would be totally healthy by now. And we would both be sleeping peacefully.
My blog, my friend. My blog, my enemy. MY BLOG. Period.
September 13, 2009
I have had so many things to say but have found myself in a position I swore I would never be stuck in with this blog. I find myself needing to censor myself. I mean really, when do you ever see me put an “*” in the middle of a word so it suddenly is not such a curse word after all. I mean, really? (That is my next post but this one became too long.)
I guess it started when I found more and more people in my real life reading my blog. Now, I was outed years ago by a friend who loved the blog and shared it with friends at school. That did not bother me. They commented or admitted to reading it or just flat out didn’t care. I could be myself. That is what this blog is all about. It doesn’t bother me that people I see on a daily basis read this. I have nothing to hide. Not exactly. It is just that it becomes a one way street. They are allowed into my private life and into my thoughts but I am not privy to theirs. It seems…off balance. You can know me, but I cannot know you. That doesn’t so much work for me.
Oh, but on the humorous side of this, I did have a mom from the school who emailed me a few days ago. You see– for those of you just joining us– I am the PTA president at the school of one of my kids. Now, if you have been here for a while that statement is STILL making you laugh. I get it. I do! But this email was classic.
Dear Jennifer, PTA President,
I came across your blog the other day. (It wasn’t hard to find. You might want to think about not being so visible if you are taking on such a big volunteer role. Especially when the kid is so young.) However, I found a few posts that made me wonder how you must be feeling about your words now. These posts are not very flattering to the PTA and now you stand up as their president. It seems a bit hipocritical [sic]. I wanted to know how you feel about the PTA now and if you take back what you said now that you are “the leader” of the “Stepfords”.
From,
A Mom Out To Cause Trouble
Well, in answer to your question, pretty damn good.
Here is my response:
Dear Mom Trying to Cause Trouble,
I have two policies on my blog: 1) I do not delete a post UNLESS I have directly inflicted pain on someone unintentionally and 2) I do not say anything on my blog that I would not say to someone’s face. (Oh, and let’s throw in #3: No nude pictures. Of me.)
Thank you so much for pointing out these old posts! I mean it! It really reminds me what it felt like to be treated so badly and to feel so unwelcome. Your email helps remind me I never want to make anyone who volunteers at the school feel that way. You must be very caring to ensure that I am reminded of that bad time so that I can avoid it while I am in a position that holds at least a little bit of power.
Thank you so much for your concern and caring for our volunteers!
I look forward to seeing you at school,
~Jenn
For those of you who have been here a while, you are surely aware of what she is talking about. For those of you who are new, here are links to the horrible, awful, no good posts I wrote. Including trying to fake my own death to avoid the PTA. (Again, I am not apologetic about my words. I was working with women who were the Meanie Moms of the school and they had no problem excluding, belittling and bringing volunteers to tears.)
These posts (if you look at the year they were written) are old. I still stand by them because I was treated in a manner that I hope a PTA volunteer at the school I am active in is NEVER, EVER treated. It was a horrible time in my life and a horrible way to be treated by anyone. Now? Now I know I set myself up for mocking because of these old posts. Do I care? Sure! I already feel like an outsider anyway. However, I am strong enough to take it. I know that what I went through only made me more determined to make sure anyone who wants to volunteer is not only welcome, but praised for their work. Whether it is one hour every other month or 15 hours a week. They all matter. They ALL deserve respect. I am thankful for each of them!
So, Ms. Mom Trying To Cause Trouble, take your spite elsewhere. If you want to volunteer, you are welcome to do so. If you want to try to make me look bad? Oh, honey, I do that enough on my own and really don’t need your help, thankyouverymuch.
Anyone else have stones? Feel free to hurl them. Trust me. I can take it.
