I See Your True Colors Shining Through...

••Warning!! Explicit Content: DO NOT READ if you are sensitive or easily offended!!!!••

So, I was having an argument with my adopted sister. My mom asked if she could come stay with me for a month or so in the summer (this past summer) and I said yes, of course! I loved Lisa and would love having her here! Well, she asked of this about 3 months prior to summer break this year. Lisa was getting all down, talking like she was incredibly depressed on her FB page, so I mentioned to her that she should be happy, she gets to come up here with me this summer! Well, my mom FLIPPED out on me for telling Lisa about the plan. Apparently it was a huge secret that I was unaware of. I mean, why wouldn’t she want Lisa to know? It gives her something to look forward to, an incentive to get her grades up and do her chores (which apparently she does ALL of while my mom sits on her ass and watches TV, and Lisa’s younger sister is just lazy and mom never makes HER do anything cause she’s the baby even though she’s 12, I think).

So the argument started one day when I posted a comment to Lisa’s photo of her with waaaay too much make-up on for a 16-year-old, a tight tank, and a look that only porno stars give in photo shoots. Let me back up, Lisa commented on one of my photos telling me that I looked like SHIT in the photo. I laughed it off, I didn’t care, I liked the photo! So I jokingly commented that she looked like a hooker with all that make-up on and WTH was she trying to do? Well, her very uneducated friend chimes in, in Lisa’s defense, telling me that ‘Lisa iz not a huker, shez a nice pursun’ and what the hell else she said I couldn’t decipher, because she couldn’t spell a single word! Lisa responded too, but I cannot remember her words either. I told them both that they definitely needed to stay in school because I never actually said Lisa WAS a hooker, she just looked it because of all the make-up and suggestive pose. So they both continue to attack me, Lisa telling me how mean I am, and that I’m just a bully going around attacking people all the time. W.T.F?? So, I just dropped it, there is no arguing with teens, they hear no common sense in anything adults say.

Well, around this time I finally got our Easter Photos posted to FB, the awesome ones my dear mother-in-law and father-in-law helped to take, and were part of. My mom nagged me since we brought the baby home in January for photos. So once I finally got them up, I let her know. 2 weeks later I still hadn’t heard her mention the photos, so I asked her if she’d seen them yet. She said she just hadn’t had the time or been able to get on the computer. So I got a little upset. My loser cousin and her job-less hubby, and 2 adopted sisters were on their FB pages every day after school, and my mom seriously couldn’t walk over to the computer to view the images she harassed me about for so long?? Well, whatever. I just let it go.

So, then I posted an image of a painting I’d been working on for my dear friend Jana. Poor Jana had been waiting forever for me to finish! I was pretty proud of the image, and was excited for my mom to see it; sometimes she pretended to care so I told her to go look at it. It was during this week that Lisa and I had the image spat. It was also during this week that mom told me that neither Lisa nor Amber could come up here to visit, even though I had arranged for a ride, and was paying for everything else! I got into it with her telling her that is exactly why she got mad at me for saying anything at all to Lisa about the trip, because she never had ANY intentions of sending her, even though it was HER idea to get Lisa away from a boy, and away from the rest of the kids so she could be around an adult, and learn to start acting like one. Paraphrasing there but that is what my mother said! She’s very quick to tell people that Lisa isn’t very bright and acts like a child, and isn’t going to be ready to be out on her own in 2 years when she turns 18 (her mom did smoke crack while she was pregnant with her, and probably in the room with her while she was a baby). So, I was pissed at my mom, was really looking forward to Lisa spending time with me and the kids for a month in the summer, but whatever, again. My mom is a control freak, and I know she didn’t want Lisa out of her sight, that is the real reason she wasn’t allowed to travel 1000 miles away!

So the next day, and after about a week of it being up, I texted mom and asked if she’d seen the painting yet. Of course she hadn’t! She had sooooo many other things to do that a housewife does when she has a 25 year-old live-in bitchy cook who refuses to get a job, education, OR take care of herself or her own children, and a 16-year-old slave girl who, my mom is proud to say, isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed! So, that was it for me. I was really mad now.

Mom tried to call a couple times; I ignored her. She texted; I ignored. Then she started getting mean, and leaving voice messages saying that I needed to grow the fuck up, and this is ridiculous, all because she wouldn’t let Lisa ride in a car with a perfect stranger (friend of mine who was willing to bring her halfway), and when I get my head out of my ass to give her a call! 

So yeah, I’ll get right on that. I understood her not wanting Lisa to ride with my friend’s husband, but she was seriously just being a bitch about it; insulting my friend’s taste in men because of her first marriage mistake. I even offered to come all the way to Safford to pick her up, and mom STILL said NO. It was just a control thing. She knew she’d lose control of Lisa while she was 1000 miles away. She just wanted to be mean, and not let the girl have any fun, because my mom is soooo miserable, she has to suck the life out of everyone else too. And I know that my mom totally turned it around on me, making me out to be the bad guy by not letting Lisa come up here!

So after maybe a week, Lisa contacts me through FB, this is the convo between Lisa and I all the way up to the day I pissed my mom off by not responding to her, and prior to mom making her and Amber delete me and block me on my personal page.

April 9

Lisa Abshier  hey jess umm i cant wait too go up there with u its goin too be so fun and i hered i get too stay for a month so taxt back oh and by the way wats ur number

Jessica LaRue has mom decided when you get to come yet? my cell number is 928-792-6781. i need to send you a text from my yahoo account though cause it's easier to type from there. but feel free to text me when you want!

April 10

Lisa Abshier i cant text u i have no time on my phone but anyway are u shure im goin up there with u cuzz i dont think monas goin too lrt me

April 12

Jessica LaRue mom said she JUST bought you minutes. if you'd stop wasting minutes on one and two word texts to your friends, you could text me!
and we're still working on the plans on getting you up here. Todd says it's cool with him. So now I just need to work on mom.

April 12

Lisa Abshier k but ya sorry i cant text u but hey i get of school on may/26 so i hope i can go up there cuzz i need too get away from mona shes makin me crazy im like her slave

April 20

Lisa Abshier jess are u still goin too let me go up there i just need to get away take some time away from mona and tristan and every 1 els i just need time too myself pleez do this for me love you

April 21

Jessica LaRue of course Lisa. I want you up here. I haven't changed my mind, has someone made you think I have?

April 21

Lisa Abshier no but mona might not have the gas to drive half way but no i waz just wonderin cuzz we i only have like 3 more weeks of school left

April 28

Lisa Abshier hey jess havent hered from u in a while i cant wait too get up there i need too talk too u bout crap i just want to leave i feel trapped mona doesent let me do anything at all but wateva pleez text back love u sis

April 30

Jessica LaRue i've been busy and in terrible pain. we just got back from Vegas a while ago. I'm exhausted. Sorry, I'm not on Facebook much, I'll check messages more often.

May 3

Lisa Abshier k so when u planning on coming down me and amber are so excited to get to spend some time with u this summer

May 18

Lisa Abshier what do u mean ur not the person i should be mad at why are u bien such a pain i no u have a new baby but come on

May 21

Lisa Abshier why dont u mind ur own buzness and ya i no i spelled it wrong but u need to stop acting like a baby and stop making fun of people u make fun of everybody and ya stop acting like u no everything and leave me alone and mabie u should go back to school and learn sum manners god grow up im goin throw enough stuff right now i dont need more from u so ya if u dident want me up there then just say it okk im done byeeee

May 22

Jessica LaRue Wow, I'm not the one who didn't want you up here. I had it completely worked out to where Mom only had to drive you to Globe. Everything else was taken care of. But i've gotten 4 different excuses now about why you can't come up here. I accused mom of having never planned letting you come up here to begin with, that's why she got mad at me for telling you about it to begin with. And stop being such a bitch to me, I'm not being mean to you, I'm playing around with you. Did I attack you when you told me I looked like shit on one of my photos? I've gone completely out of my way to get you up here this summer and no matter what I do, Mom rejects it. She doesn't want you out of her site, she wants you where she can keep utter control of you. I know you wanted to get away from her, she hates teenagers, she doesn't know the first thing about how to raise them. She doesn't really know how to raise kids at all, and I feel for you girls being stuck with her. But it's out of my power, I tried to get you away for a while, but mom just won't allow it. I even told her I would find you a ride to Globe so there would be zero cost from her end and she still said no. So don't bitch at me about ME not wanting you up here! I did, It's mom who never wanted you to leave Arizona. And don't fucking tell ME to grow up when you're 16-years-old and your biggest problem is that you're lusting after 2 12-year-old boys who just aren't interested in you. I actually have real problems like sick children and a ruptured disk in my neck. I'm tired of hearing that I need to grow up when I'm the only person in the entire fucking family who can actually support myself with a college education! Everyone else is a bunch of leeches and junkies and I get all the shit for being the real grown-up. Everyone down there can go to hell for all I care! And if you want to keep treating me like shit when I try to play around with you, then you can join them! I'm done with games!

So, the above letter, I am assuming, never made it TO Lisa, I believe mom completely intercepted it. She then sends me the following text. Clearly she’s computer illiterate and ignorant to the workings of FB.

May 22, 2011 Text from Mom:

Wow! I just read ur facebook rant. If ur so educated, grown up, busy with sick kids, pathetic neck pain, how do you have time to fight like a child, with a child? And u did it on line! Now the whole world knows ur a 33yr old child! Im so embarrassed for u sis! U must feel really humiliated. Sorry baby, I keep tellin u, u have no common sense. U should always think b4 u type on line! But now since uve made a complete ass out of urself online, mayb that will teach u. Luvs. Ur just jealous cause im a better mother to these guys than I was to u. Practice makes perfects! Kiss the babys!!

Yeah, of course I’ll kiss the babies for your sorry ass. I never responded to her. I broke down into hysterics after that 'jealous' line, and called Becky, who happened to not answer the phone at the time, so I called Tamara, who knows all about mom, so no explanation was needed. She helped me calm down. Then I noticed thru FB, Lisa and Amber had both blocked me. That made me mad, but knew it was mom's doing. Then Todd hops on my computer one day while I had my company FB page open. Lisa is trying to chat with me, but we weren't sure if it WAS Lisa or not, so I told Todd to just block her. Well, the next day I logged in and saw the attempted chat from Lisa, Todd didn't block her! So I went to her page to do it. And guess what I see? From my loser cousin Taylor's account, my mom posted, about FIFTEEN times, the above text, starting it out with "Hey Jess, this is Mom..."

FIFTEEN TIMES she reposted that text on Lisa's Wall!!! So, I'm sorry, but WHO exactly needs to grow up??

Mom sent a few more texts, which I ignored, didn’t even read, then I figured out the phone had a Block Number option. So she was blocked! And my home phone has a block number option too. She tries to call, phone hangs up on her. She tried to call from my loser cousin’s phone, I had Todd block it immediately and they couldn’t get thru to leave nasty messages on my phone about how my husband is holding me prisoner, like she has done before!

So, I’m kind of an emotional wreck for a week, I don’t know why that woman’s paper cuts can burn so badly. After a week, I was great again. Then comes this message in July.

July 9, 2011 Text from Mom:

Trying to pick my balls up, and go on. I realize now that I totally emotionally shut down. Don’t know when I started with “I can’t” but I no that has never been my motto. Ive always been a I can girl. Sorry I let u & my fam down. Im really comin back now. U know the real me sis. Im not bad, just misunderstood. U r ur mothers daughter. Luv u! So proud! Don’t ask me any questions now. Just listen, luv me, I need u. Trust me. I got it this time!

I responded telling her to stay out of my life, I was done with her games, after I found out she tried to kill herself again. Re-blocked her, cause I’m not sure how that message seeped through. Then last week I get this:

October 20, 2011

She sent some message about just in case the world ends on the 21^st like predicted, she wanted me and the kids to know that she loves us. I forget the rest and didn’t save it.

I responded, being nice and letting her know I had uploaded new photos of the kids on my company facebook. She said she didn’t have a computer because AJ broke it. So I told her I was making her a book for Christmas anyways, so she’d get to see them. She didn’t respond.

And then out of the blue, as Linda and I are cooking dinner, I get this message, with my mother’s true colors shining through:

Oct 22, 2011

Im not sure I want ur fuckin “crumbs”. I just though u mite send me some pictures of my grandkids! I don’t want ur fuckin book! I just wanted a few pictures. Apparently that’s to much to fuckin ask for!! Keep ur fucking block! I dont want ur snooty ass in my life. Ur ass can keep ur book. Ill c em sometime. U stay blocked and out of my life, u selfish hateful bitch! Do not text me ever again! Im done with ur loser ass. No wonder todd makes up lovers, ur as cold as ice.

My response:

Go fuck yourself! You are the worst excuse for a mother in the history of parenthood. And no, you will NEVER see my kids!! Go get yourself nice and drunk now, cause I’m assuming you’re out of pills and meth due to your fucking attitude. I don’t want to hear that you love me and the kids because the world might end tmrw, I don’t believe U. You’ve never loved anyone but yourself!

Mom’s #1:

No that’s u u selfish cunt

Mom’s #2

I don’t owe u any explanation. But im drug free, liquor free, meth free. That’s why I can see u for what u r!! A big insecure fuckin loser! U cant even keep ur man interested! He has to hav make believe affairs! Mayb if ud quite whoring around hed quit! But u never could k3p ur fuckin legs closed huh jess? Fuck off!

My response:

You’re not sober, and u never have been a day in your life. And you’ve never seen me. You don’t even know me. You can try to say all the hurtful things a cunt like you can think up, your words don’t phase me. U disowned me and toby in our teens over those SS checks, disowned me again when I told you I was joining the marines,, was pissed off I moved to FL to get to know my real parent, the one you spent our lives telling lies about. Say all you like woman, I blocked you from my life twenty years ago. Your lack of sobriety was so pathetic when I was a child that u didn’t even notice Pitman trying to put his hands down my pants when I was 7, he was just a convenience for u because he had drugs right? And that was all that mattered. You are all that matters to you, but please, keep the insults coming, this will make for an excellent book.

Her Response #1:

I’m sure ull be a

Her Response #2:

Here’s another little fact for u. Ur dad didn’t want u either.

Her Response #3:

Fact Check! I disowned u when u were inside me. U made me feel dirty. Never ever wanted u and nothings changed! Still dont! Block me u chicken shit whore! Block me. I hav my real datghters now, and u cant hold a candle to them. Block me and lose my number! I still dont want u and never will. Ur to scared to block me! Ha ha ha chicken shit. My real daughters got more balls than u. Ha Ha

Her Response #4:

One more thing. U do follow in ur dads footsteps. He was a whore. And uve made him proud!! Atta girl!! U must be so proud!!

My Response:

God it must feel good to be drunk again. Here’s a fact for you, you don’t exist. I’m not blocking you because I’m writing all this down, want to make sure my kids know why both my parents died. And Dad did want me, and loved me, and proved that to me. Your adopted children were only adopted because they came with paychecks. When something benefits YOU, you go out of your way to make it happen. Toby and I barely had what we needed for school but u sure as hell had your full liquor cabinet, bag of pot, and crystal meth. Even your dogs were taken better care of than us! Then u had to sink lower than scum and get him hooked on meth. Mother of the fucking year! It’s so sad that you are so unhappy you have to drag everyone else down. I feel so sorry for Shawn, he deserved a much better life than you. You’re the reason he’s so broken. But you just gotta keep going don’t you? Blow your fucking brains out already.

Her Response:

I to am savin these. Right back at u, Blow ur fucking brains out. Oh thats rite, u dont have any. Do ur husband and kids a favor and die b4 u fuck them up more! Try to do 1 unselfish thing in ur life! Die! U were never supposed to b born! Have a nice day whore! Im done talkin to a dead woman!

My Response:

Omg, do you even hear yourself? Every time you don’t get what you want, this is exactly what you do, go to great lengths to say the most ridiculous shit that makes NO sense and holds zero truth just to try to hurt people and make them mad. Look up the definition for ‘whore’ you idiot! You have to actually be having sex with multiple people AND collect money for services rendered. I can count all the men I’ve had sex with on my hands, but I bet you can’t even count the guys you fucked with an abacus!! Oh, sorry, that’s probably a big word for you. Dropping out in 6^th grade and all. Your insults are fucking hilarious, keep em coming, I needed the laughter tonight. Make sure you’re drinking with a straw, you’ll get drunker faster. If you didn’t want me so badly, why did you go to such great lengths to keep me from Dad, who actually tried to get us several times?

Her Response #1:

I just gave u ur greated wish. U r welcome. Now u can be happy!! Wait for it, ur gonna luv it I promise!!

(not a freaking clue what she was talking about here)

Her response #2:

News flash ur dad had 5 kids he never wanted u til u were grown up. Cheap prick didn’t pay any child support for any. He only wanted u when u were grown up. But its ur fantasy, run with it. God u r fuckin stupid!! Grow up. Fuck off and eat shit. He really didn’t like u, u were a worthless girl. He didn’t want any kids u stupid bitch. U r so dumb. Wow. All that college and ur dtmber than a box of rocks. He hated u

Her response #3:

U hau me confused with peggy. I went to high school u dumb ass. U have no gdea ur talkin about as usual. Ur facts r so very very wrong. Again. Toby has the brain again. U dont no anything at all about me, u never did and u never will.

My response:

Nope, I’m not confused, I know who you are, and I know who peggy is. You are both selfish cunts so fucking miserable with your own choices in life that u do whatever is possible to drag everyone around u down. You two spent the 1^st 18 years of my life playing me against the other, always trying to show me how horrible the other truly was. And I know shit about you, I know you flip the fuck out like this when you’re having withdrawals, or detoxing. I know you make shawn buy you whatever pills he can find instead of actually taking care of the girls. I know you sit around feeling sorry for yourself about how horrible peggy treated u instead of improving your life in any way. And I know you’re pissed off at the world right now because u are literally stone cold sober. No matter how many times you say it, I’m not dumb, or stupid, or a whore. I have a life, an education, a career, a company, a great marriage, and 3 beautiful kids who I love and take care of with every ounce of my being. You can’t understand that though, because you are so selfish. And putting Dad down, this man you’ve ‘loved’ and will always ‘love’ isn’t making you more powerful or anything. But I get it, you’re pissed off because you’re detoxing. Well guess what, it’s not my fault! It’s your fault you’re a junkie, it’s your fault both the girls are humiliated by you, and it’s your fault you let the whole family walk all over you. I’ve been out of your life since you gave up on me and toby when I was 12 and sent us to live with peggy. SHE fucking raised me, u get no credit for that. U dragged us around letting us watch as Don beat the fuck out of you time and time again. We’d of been better off in foster care! Keep telling me to grow up, I’m sure that makes YOU feel more like an adult. But I grew up long before you!

My mother is clueless. She has spent her life in a bottle, hooked on a pipe, with pills in her blood, and her mind in a daze. She has no idea how to take care of herself, or anyone else except her animals. She shafts everyone; and she’s great with the manipulation games, just like her mother. I’ve hated my mother since the first time I remember seeing her drunk and attacking my blind grandmother, or beating the hell out of one of her younger sisters, or completely destroying my aunt’s entire house on a drunken rampage. She used to make me sit with her, while she got intoxicated; I was the bartender, knowing how to mix many drinks by the age of 8. I was made to sit and listen to her piss and moan about what a horrible life she had growing up, how horrible my grandmother treated her, how many times she took a beating for her siblings. She couldn’t do anything with her life because of all this? 

I feel no pity for her, no remorse for any of the things I said to her, and absolutely no guilt for keeping my children away from her and the rest of that part of the family. I shed a few tears this evening, crushed that a mother could say such things to her only daughter. Then I realized, she can only hurt me when I let her. So I stopped letting her, and continued reading her ridiculous texts only so I could write them down, and always be reminded of WHY I chose this path; the one that leads me away from her and that life and into a better life without the malevolence, abuse, drugs, and violence.

I am stronger than her. I am smarter than her. I am better than her. And she will not torment me any longer.

A Miracle Birthday!

What started out as the single most horrendous experience of my entire being, has turned into an amazing learning experience and one of the most positive situations I can possibly describe.

At a mere 22 weeks, I began having labor pains, and not just Braxton Hicks. These were full on labor contractions. Simultaneously, there were intense marital problems, which caused much fighting, heartbreak, and stress. Two stubborn hearts trying to force the magnets together… it seemed impossible.

Then, the improbable happened, I woke up, alone with 2 kids, with full-on 3-minute apart labor contractions. Stuck in the middle of nowhereville, 3 hours north of Las Vegas, where doctors travel in and out of every other week, so who knew what could happen. I called my mother-in-law. She was the first on my mind. I wasn’t certain I was having real contractions, because the pain was drastically different than with Kaida. I explained it to Becky, and she directed me to immediately hang up and call Todd, who was at work. So I did. I was a little hysterical, in pain, and scared out of my mind. He gets on the phone and I tell him to come home because I think I’m in labor, as I have a contraction while on the phone with him. He instructs me to immediately hang up and call Jeremiah, because he was off work and in town and could come to my aide. When I hung up the phone, the only person I could think of was Tamara. I called her cell. Was holding back hysterics, but she could hear right through my façade, as usual. I told her I hoped to God she wasn’t at work. She said, “What’s wrong??” I told her, “I think I’m in labor.” ‘Click’ was all I heard. 2 minutes later she was busting through my front door. She ran all the way from the Station House where her and hubby were having breakfast, leaving him behind to pay the bill. She instantly ushers me to the truck and John shows up to take care of my monkeys. 

I was in pain. I was scared. And I was worried for this little man who wasn’t fully 25 weeks along. Tamara drove me to the hospital. Into the ER we went. I would not let her leave my side. She called everyone important to let them know. They had me upside down and on a Magnesium drip. She stayed. Until the ambulance drove me to the airport, she stayed. Even after Todd arrived, she stayed; held my hand, calmed my fears, made me breathe. She reminded me of her son, Dimitri. He was born too early, and the idiot Doctor made her push him out instead of taking him via c-section. The trauma through the birthing canal caused unnecessary problems. He lived 8 hours. I couldn’t be in the hospital with her, but I was there for her as much as I could be at the time. It was the most difficult experience for 2 19-year-olds to have to endure. I was reminded of this so I refused to give birth to my son in the middle of nowhere with an ER doctor who had to remain on the phone with a specialist in Vegas the entire time I was there! They waited 2 hours for the perinatal team to arrive. Then they wanted me to push him out. I looked at Tamara, could see the stubborn, disobedient look in her eyes. I looked at my husband, fear and desperation in his. So I feigned a push. Nothing happened. The ER Dr. immediately called the Sunrise specialist again. He said to have me push once again, and once again I feigned it. So, the Sunrise specialist, Dr. Miller, said “Put her on the plane with the perinatal team and send her here!”

They put me back on magnesium, back upside down, and strapped me to the gurney. Then some bad news came. Todd could not fly with me and I had to say goodbye to Tamara. He was going to rush home to get some things and fly his ass down to Vegas as quickly as our hot rod would safely allow. I remember Tamara whispering to me, “You make them give you a c-section. DEMAND IT!! I love you.”

And then I was alone with the perinatal team, and our town doc Dr. Scoccia, out to the airport and onto the plane. I had only a few hard contractions on the plane. Scoccia kept telling me to go to a happy place. And I tried.

Finally at Sunrise, and I meet the Doctors who specialized in this department: premature births. Todd shows up finally, and everything seems OK. They put another shot of steroids in me, leave me upside down which caused an excruciating headache, and wanted me to remain this way as long as possible. Around 4 am the following morning, my water broke. There was no stopping this little boy from entering the world now. And now he was exactly 25 weeks.

They were prepping me for c-section, because every time a Dr. came in, that is what I asked about, with Tamara’s words ringing in my head. The doctor said it would absolutely be a c-section unless something goes wrong to prevent it. The amniotic sac was already bulging out, and now the water was broken, so if anything else changed, there would be no c-section. I prayed. It took a few hours to prep us for surgery. I’m hysterical now, unable to calm down; he was way too young to come out, I didn’t want him to come out. They roll me into the operating room, as I keep asking for my husband. The anesthesiologist started the shots in my spine to get me numbed. I’m still a little hysterical, and mentally believe the shots aren’t working. Todd is finally holding one of my tied-down hands. The anesthesiologist is at my other side. I keep telling him the medicine isn’t working. He keeps telling me to calm down, and that it is. Todd keeps telling me to calm down. I keep asking for more numbing agents, as I hear the operating Doctors say they’ve already cut me open and were about to pull the baby out. Now I’m even more hysterical, I didn’t want it to be real; I didn’t want them to actually be taking him out, he wasn’t ready! I start freaking out. I’m crying and begging Todd, for what I’m not sure. He keeps telling me that it’s OK. The anesthesiologist gives me something that knocks me out, and I drifted away. Todd watches as the amazing perinatal team grabs our son, all 1 pound 6 ounces of him. He shoots a couple photos.

I wake up a while later in the recovery room. There was a nurse with me, and I just wanted to know how the baby was. I was really out of it; I wasn’t able to speak clearly. After a while longer they wheel me into my room and I meet up with my hubby again. I just wanted to see the baby and know he was OK. Everyone kept telling me he was just fine, but I wasn’t allowed to see him yet because I was still recouping from surgery. He was upstairs in the NICU, I was downstairs in the Mommy ward. Sixteen hours later I was finally allowed to go see him. Todd had left to go meet his parents, so the nurse wheeled me there. All I could do was cry; he was so tiny, frail, thin. He was hooked up to everything you can or can’t imagine. He was inside an incubator, intubated, IVs everywhere, mask over his face to protect his eyes from the Billy Ruben lights. I wasn’t allowed to hold him. All I could do was stare through the plexi-glass at this tiny little fighter who was born 15 weeks too soon! I was so scared for him.

For 3 months I watched him inside the NICU. At 2 weeks old I was finally able to hold him. 

Within the 3 months I was only allowed to hold him a handful of times. Then the day came… he’d met all of his goals: gained weight, was drinking from a bottle, able to maintain his own body temperature, and passed the car seat test. Mommy walked out of that Hospital NICU for the last time, with Draikaiden. He was almost 5 pounds.

He still remains the strongest person I know. He fought harder than anyone I’ve ever met. Brother and Sister welcomed him home with excitement and love. We’ve watched him grow from a 1 pound 6 ounce miracle baby, into the nearly 20 pound monkey he is today. 

He’s crawling all over the house, faster than most of us are ready for; he’s pulling himself up onto things to stand; he’s teething like crazy; he’s loud, he happy, and today is ONE YEAR OLD! It seemed like I would never take him home. It seemed like THIS day would never come! 

But here we are! Celebrating a first birthday for the strongest person I know! 

Happy Birthday Baby Boy! 

Mommy Loves you more than you can imagine! To the moon and back!

Why I Can't... (Part I)

You need a license to drive a car, a motorcycle, and even one of those tiny little mopeds. You need a license to shoot an animal AND an annual permit and can only do it in a specific time of year. You need a license to own a gun. You need a license to run a business, just to sell things to other people. You need a license to build something and special permits that are appropriate for each county. You need a license to practice medicine. If you’re specially trained well enough, like Chuck Norris, you even need to register your hands as weapons. And you even need a license to catch a silly little fish. There are probably so many other things you need a license for that I am not aware of, so many trivial things that require a license. But any idiot can conceive a child and be responsible for that child’s life. Fish are more important than babies in the government’s eyes, apparently.

Anyone can make a baby. And most women think that the 40 weeks of carrying the child, and the labor we go through, automatically earns you the title of “Mother.”

But it doesn’t.

Because any crack-head can carry a baby, give birth, then leave that child in a dumpster. Any teenage couple can conceive a child, give birth in a park right across the street from a hospital, then have a friend help you run over that baby and hide the evidence of any such pregnancy until one of the 3 finally cracks and tells officials. Just anyone can kill her own child, wait 30 days before reporting her missing, and still get away with the murder AND walk free among us.

Mother is a name that is earned.

Mother is a title that deserves more respect than it gets. 

“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.”

That quote holds more truth than most people realize, or even care to understand. A mother is the first person a baby comes to know. In most cases, her face is the first they recognize. Her voice is the most comforting. She is the guide, the teacher, the nurturer. Her kisses heal everything. Her hugs make all the hurt go away. She knows everything, and has all the answers. She listens to you, hears what your saying, and even hears what you’re not saying. She sees every freckle, is aware of every scar and how it happened, every memory is hers. She knows your cries, your fears, your emotions better than anyone. She’s a hero, an idol, an angel. 

Mother isn’t just a person who gives birth, and she certainly isn’t the person who’s supposed to walk away, run away, hide in a bottle, or leave you with everyone who will take you while she lives a separate life. 

"Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end...

...I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know

I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end it doesn't even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter"

~linkin park

A Little of This and Some of That

So a few things here. Gonna just cram it all into one post, so just deal with my rambling!

First of All, Baby Draikaiden's ROP is GONE! Gone, gone, GONE!!!! YAY!!!
He has had bronchitis the past few weeks, now that the other 2 have recovered from RSV. Seriously if it's not one thing it's another!

Second, Draven is getting minor surgery this Friday for an undescending testicle. Poor little guy. But I think it's better NOW than when he's in his teens and will remember it more. It's out-patient surgery, so everything should be fine... knock on wood.

Third, I woke up 2 Wednesday's ago with a crink in my neck that has turned into the most horrible pain I have felt in my spine since I broke my back nearly 7 years ago! Todd has massaged it to the point that it feels bruised, then he sent me to a professional Massage Therapist, I've been in the Hot Tub, taken a hot bath with minerals, freakishly laid on ice packs, taken muscle relaxers and Lortabs, even attempted to hang upside-down (yes you read that correctly). And then we went to the Chiropractor who I thought of ALL people would FIX it. Him and the other Dr. in that office tried a couple times each, they put me on a stretching table, massage table, electrotherapy, ice, tried adjusting again... and STILL it FREAKING hurt like hell when darling hubby and I had our date night to go see Devil Driver and Danzig. Went the ER here and got stronger meds that are making me pretty loopy and knocking me out, thankfully Daddy is off all week and Uncle Derek is with us once again, so being knocked out for a few hours isn't so bad! But it is seriously depressing having something wrong with me ALL. THE. FREAKING. TIME! I was just starting to feel better after the walking pneumonia and got back into a workout routine and now this! It makes me CRY! AAAAHHHH!

Fourth, I'm not able to accomplish much lately, mostly because of the physical ailments that I have had just about enough of! Jana is STILL waiting on her picture and it's sad because I have the smallest touching up to do and then just need to put it all back together for her! Poor Jana! I swear I'll have it done this century!

Fifth, Easter was Fantastic! Besides my nagging pain, we had a wonderful day. Todd's youngest brother was released from incarceration Easter Sunday and we also celebrated Todd's Birthday that day. Yummy food, it was the kids' VERY first Easter Baskets and Egg hunt. They had a blast! Grandma and Papa were here! Great times.

And the last thing I want to mention to all my followers is that there is going to be a change with my page. My heart is on designing. My ultimate goal in life is to have a major Scrapbook company where everyone WANTS to buy my designs. I love to write, but I will be changing this blog to a crafting blog. I want to show off my paper designs, I have 8 kits completed and NO money to have them printed! I need to start somewhere. So since that is where my heart is, I will be writing much less, complaining much less, and doing layouts with my papers, some digital, and sometimes I'll be using other peoples kits too. I will always give credit where credit is due, and you will know where you can find the elements I use. Someday I hope to have all of my designs in the big scrapbook stores.

So, this may be the last actual blog post from me, from now on they will be about crafting. I will be revamping my site and possibly giving it a new name. I hope to keep your interests since my layouts will still contain stories of things that go on in our daily lives. And I may also pick 1 day a week to have a regular blog post. If I had the energy, time, and focus to have 2 blogs I certainly would, but the baby still needs a lot of my attention and Kaida is getting ready for homeschooling.

Here are some Easter photos of my cute monkeys! I hope everyone else had a Wonderful Holiday!

Because She Listened

 

I used to fold her undergarments, things like pantyhose, slips, granny panties, into interesting shapes to make furniture for my dolls. I’d create my own little version of a dollhouse on the floor in the corner of her bedroom. While my brother was at school, it was just she and I.

I had a real porcelain tea set, real miniature cups, saucers, a teakettle, and sugar bowl. She’d fill the teakettle with warm tea, bring out cheese and crackers, put sugar cubes in the sugar bowl, and I’d have a real tea party with my grandma.

She taught me how to play Uno, Rummy, and how to shuffle cards the cool way. She’d brush my hair, then I’d brush hers and play with it while she watched TV. On the nights I got to spend the night with her, we’d stay up late watching Disney channel waiting to see if DTV would come on. That was my favorite. It was a filler in between shows, music videos of fun kids songs put to Disney cartoons but it only came on late at night.

My brother and I never call her “Grandma.” I’ve heard a few excuses as to why, but whatever the reason, we grew up calling her by her first name, Peggy. 

I remember she started to lose her vision when I was real young. But she still tried to do everything with me anyways. When I was a teen I lived with her. She may have had severe vision problems but could easily hit a grown man square in the head with anything in reach and from across the room when his smart mouth pissed her off.

She was the one all the grandkids went to for hugs and kisses; lots and lots of hugs and kisses. I was the eldest girl, my brother the eldest. He seemed to always be off doing his own thing. Teenage boys are too cool for family things.

She was encouraging, always telling us grandkids that we could do anything. She didn’t want us giving up. She was patient, very patient with the younger ones; I envied that when I was ready to ring their little necks! She was faith-filled, which was very… complicated. We had hardships, and I can’t emphasize that enough, but she always seemed, to me, to have faith in God. It was confusing to me while inspiring. But this is what I loved about my grandma the most: she listened.

All the other adults in the family couldn’t care less about what any of us kids had to say. Our opinions, our thoughts, our feelings, our dreams meant nothing to any of them. The younger ones were just in the way all the time, and the older of us were there to do chores and watch the little ones. But Peggy listened. She listened to us all from the time we said our first words and she did her best to hear every word. She would stop what she was doing and bend down to hear instead of yelling at someone to get out of the room and go play.

Everyday when I’d come home from high school, she’d sit with me and ask me about my day. Some days were less exciting then others. But no matter what, she’d sit there and listen to my response. After every outing, school event or trip, group date night, date night, prom, no matter what social gathering it was, or how late I got home, she would sit up with me and listen to my excitement as I retold my adventures. I was never afraid to tell her anything. I told her of boys I liked, well the plural part didn’t last long before I met my high school sweetheart. She knew of all my friends, of people I didn’t like, people I didn’t trust, favorite teachers, my dreams, my college plans, everything.

Teenage girls can talk a lot, trust me, and that didn’t seem to ever bother her. She never once told me to come back later because her favorite show was coming on. She listened to me gab and gab about everything and nothing, and more importantly, she heard me. She was there for me in a time when every teenage girl needs someone. And that really meant the world to me.

I’m referring to her in the past tense not because she has past on, because she hasn’t, but because this is from my memory of years ago. After school I left, and basically haven’t been back since. I’ve still called my grandma and talked with her for hours on the phone, she’s still the same person. I’m just referring to her from my youth. As a matter of fact, today is her birthday. For her sake, I’m leaving the number out (but the Neanderthals would be offended if they weren’t mentioned since they built the hospital she was born in).

I don’t get to see her much, rarely actually. We live in separate states now. Life keeps us apart. But I do love her very much and wish her all the best on this birthday!

Happy Birthday Peggy!

It was Far Too Perfect to Have Planned

Draven runs down the hall, screaming in pain, and straight into Daddy’s arms. Daddy was sitting on the couch, I was at the dining room table. I looked over at my husband, a little shocked at Draven’s actions since he’s such a Momma’s boy. He always comes to me when he’s crying. Always!

Todd looked at me, just as confused and started comforting Draven, asking him what was wrong.

“I-I-I-I huuurrr myyyyyy aaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!”

I chuckled and said calmly to Todd, “That was a little weird.”

Kaida, darling Kaida, sees the exchange of glances between Daddy and I. She’s standing in between us trying to balance herself on the arm of the couch.

“Draven!!! Don’t you KNOW who that IS???” she says, a little perplexed herself.

I laughed. I didn’t get a chance to look at Daddy’s face before the rest of it came out.

“That’s Daddy!!! He’s a JackASS!!!!”

I buried my face in my arms on the table, laughing hysterically. For several minutes. Kaida was giggling behind me. Draven was still crying, whining really. And Todd was silent. After I composed myself, I stood up and looked at Todd. He was not amused in the least bit. I laughed even harder!

Did I feel bad? No, not even slightly! Why you ask? Because my darling, sweet, loving husband taught my kids to call Mommy a Cow! And they even mooooo at me. So having my dear 4-year-old daughter say this at random was more perfect than I could have planned myself! Because Daddy is, indeed, a Jackass!

I am NOT Nice to Stupid People

 

So we had a long day in Vegas, that’s my excuse. We’d spent the night before with Jana, so the day wasn’t AS bad as normal Vegas trips are when I drive down and back and do all the doc visits AND shopping in one day. But still, 2 doc visits, one of them informing me that my 3-year-old needs surgery on his un-descending testicle, driving all over Vegas, and then shopping with all three kids by myself yet again still wore me out. We did get to have lunch with Crystal, which was a plus!

By the end of the visit to Wal-mart, near the end of the day, I was literally ready to take someone’s head off, and one unfortunate, and not very bright, woman happened to be in my path. We had been in the store for at least 2 hours, I had all three kids in 1 cart with blankets and pillows and I was pulling a 2^nd cart along for the groceries. I was cranky, hungry, and spent, as were all three monkeys.

Naturally, when you approach the check-out lines, you’re searching for the shortest line AND the emptiest cart in that line. So I found the shortest line, 2 people, and each of those people had just a couple things thrown onto the conveyor belt. It was a staggered register set-up, where you had to walk past one register to get to the other. I was making a B-line for register 6. There were about 4 people in line 5, the line I had to walk past to get to the emptier line. Each of them had a cart that was at least half full, and the woman at the end of the line had a full cart. She was blocking the path to register 6. This was a problem that instantly set me off.

I wasn’t rude, at first, but sharply I asked her which line she was in.

She looks at me, a little clueless, and says, “Oh, I’m just waiting here to see which line was going to call me up first.”

In my head I busted up laughing. I looked at her, like she was a total idiot, and said sternly, “Um, no, you’re either in lane 5 or you’re in lane 6.”

And she argued, looking at me like I’D just fell out of a banana tree, “Well, no, I was just going to wait here until it was my turn and…”

And I very rudely, and sternly interrupted her idiocy, “Look around! You’re in Wal-mart! That’s NOT how it works HERE!”

And she tried to argue some more, looking at me as though she’d never been to Wal-mart before and encountered real people, “Well, these lines are just…”

And I was done arguing. “Look lady, pick a line, or move out of the way so I can get through!”

And she slowly rolled her eyes as though she were thinking what a crazy freaking person I was knowing she’d better not open her mouth again. She walked up to the guy in front of her and motioned for HIM to go up to the other line! So, instead of ramming my cart into her body and smashing her up against her own cart, I quickly walked away, searching for another line, which I found at the other end of the store!

And this couldn’t have turned out MORE embarrassing for me. It takes A LOT to offend or embarrass me.  But let me rewind just a little bit. About 40 minutes into our shopping trip, everyone had to use the bathroom. So I went to the back of the store where they have the family restroom. I can push the entire cart filled with children into the bathroom, and not have to worry about any of our stuff getting stolen or having to carry the 2 pillows, 2 blankets, 5 baby blankets, diaper bag, and baby into a single stall while I am trying to listen to the other 2, making sure they are doing what they are supposed to and are not sneaking off or getting knapped.

We get to the bathroom area, and the door is locked. Of course! So we wait. For about 15 minutes. I checked the door during that time once more, just to be sure and just to make a little extra noise for whomever was inside. Most people have been in Wal-mart. This area in the back also has regular restrooms, about 15 feet away from this ONE family bathroom. But I can’t take the cart in there, hence the waiting. So, after the 15 minutes, ONE man walks out of this bathroom! I shot him a look that should have burned his skin right off. He apologized quickly and held the door opened for us. When I got the door closed on the inside, I cursed, calling the guy a very bad word, beginning with a BIG F!

OK, now moving forward. We get to the register, the 2^nd attempt at one. The kid was about 90% finished ringing us up, and Kaida points to him, she’s about 2 feet away from him, in perfect hearing distance, and says, “Mommy, that guy is a Freak!”

Pretending that I am not completely mortified, I say calmly, “Honey, that’s not nice, why would you call him a freak??”

The kid is just smiling at us like it doesn’t matter to him that she just blatantly called him a freak.

Kaida says, with a huge smile on her face, “Because, he’s a freak Mommy!”

I kinda grin and say, “Has he done something to make you think he’s a freak?”

The kid is still smiling, ringing up our groceries.

Kaida grins really big at me, then at him, then at me again and says, “Yes.”

Trying to be stern, and not laugh, and not make it obvious how awful I feel for this kid, I say, “Honey, what has he done to make you think he’s a freak?”

The kid is still smiling, looking right at me.

Kaida is still grinning and says, “The bathroom Mommy!”

Now I AM laughing. I say, “OH! He’s not the same guy we saw back there honey, and ‘freak’ wasn’t actually the word Mommy used!”

The kid was still smiling. Kaida was too. I’m trying to pretend I’m not completely mortified as I take my receipt and rush away, telling him to have a wonderful night! Now to clarify for those who couldn’t ‘see’ the issue: both of the guys were African American. A distinction not easily made by a 4-year-old, apparently they looked like the same guy to her. Thankfully the kid at the register just didn’t care, or was just a really nice kid and didn’t mind what little kids said! He was sooooo polite! But I couldn’t walk away fast enough!

Eye Doctor Drama Part 3

Well apparently, you need to have a license in Crazy to be a pediatric eye doctor or to even work for one. To get caught up on this drama, read this first.

I made a brief update a couple weeks ago about Draikaiden’s 2^nd opinion for his Stage 1 ROP. ROP is Retinopathy of Prematurity and has several different stages. It means that his eyes were born prematurely. Hmm, imagine that, a preemie with premature eyes. At Stage 1 and Stage 2 there is NO TREATMENT! Stages 3-5 vary in the ways they can treat it. I will say it again before I go on with the story, Draikaiden has STAGE 1.

So, hopefully everyone is caught up, cause you’ll kinda need to be. The update I gave last week was brief, now I’m going to give you more detail plus include what has happened since.

We made it to the new eye Dr two weeks ago. Me and the kids were literally the first people there. I already had Draikaiden’s paperwork filled out since I picked it up the week before. We sat down and waited about 45 minutes before they took us back. Then we waited for another 15 minutes in the room. The nurse came back in and asked questions while filling in the answers on a computer. It took about 20 minutes. Then she put drops in his eyes for dilating. Then sent us back out into the waiting room. After about 30 more minutes another nurse came out and put more drops in his eyes. Then we waited some more. Finally it was our turn to go back, again. And wait, again.

This time the Dr. came in. Nice woman. Asked the same questions her nurse asked us an hour ago! I told her why we were there, that I didn’t trust the other eye Dr. and wanted a 2^nd opinion. She told me she wasn’t sure if she wanted to start picking up ROP patients (even though it is stated ON her business cards that she treats ROP patients). She talked to me for about 15 minutes, I briefly told her why I didn’t trust the other eye Dr. Near the end of the conversation she tells me that she doesn’t have the instrument there to look at an ROP patient.

After 2-and-a-half hours of making us wait and putting chemicals in my son’s eyes, THEN she tells me she doesn’t have the right equipment!!!! W.T.F???

She said she didn’t know there was an ROP patient coming in today.

My jaw dropped. I very calmly said, “I made the appointment 3 weeks ago!! And when I called I specifically told the woman on the phone that I wanted a 2^nd opinion on my son’s ROP!!!”

She said it wasn’t my fault, it was her office staff’s fault for not informing her. Then she offered to call that other eye Dr. and make an appointment for us.

I laughed and said, “I will drive all the way to California before I ever take my son back over to see him again.”

So then she asked if we could wait, EVEN LONGER, and NOW she’ll send someone across town to pick it up from her other office!

It was a few minutes before 10 am, we’d been sitting in that office for 2-and-a-half hours already, and Draikaiden was about to miss his physical therapy appointment thanks to this, because it was scheduled for 10 am. I told her we’d leave to go to another appointment that he had for that day, and I’d leave my cell number. If they got the instrument there, they could call me, otherwise I wasn’t coming back.

So we made it to his 3^rd appointment for the day, he missed physical therapy, and then back to that horrid eye Dr.’s office. We began our wait, 30 minutes pass and a nurse comes out to put drops in his eyes, again. I asked how long it was going to take because we needed to be in Henderson for more Dr.’s appointments by 3 and it was 1:30 now. Another 10 minutes pass and they take us back into a room where we wait for 15 more. The Dr. comes in, preps the baby for the exam and the kids and I go wait in the other room. The exam takes about 15 minutes, then she explains things to me more thoroughly than the other eye Dr. ever did. She says she’ll see him back in 2 weeks. I tell her that is perfect because that is when we have his RSV shot scheduled for, so we would be in town. And I make it clear to her that the day we’re coming back IS a Tuesday. She said earlier she’d prefer to see him in the other office because it’s larger and better equipped but she’s only there Mondays and Thursdays. She said that Tuesday would be fine since we were coming into town, but appointments thereafter would need to be at the other office. OK, fine with me.

Three days later, after I had arranged all the other appointments for the day, I called her office to schedule. The receptionist said the Dr. was no longer seeing ROP patients.

“She JUST saw my son 3 days ago and said she’d see him again in two weeks!” I argued.

The woman told me she just received an email that morning from the office manager and the decision was final. I told her she needed to call the Dr. then because I was promised at least one more visit for my son and I wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer. She said she’d call me right back. When she called she said she could only schedule for the other office, which was only for Mon or Thurs. I was irritated but done arguing. I would schedule for the next time we went down after he got his RSV shot because that was more important for him and it was already a fiasco getting that shot approved.

So, the day came, we were in Vegas last Tuesday the 15^th. It was about 2:30 pm and I am sitting in the truck with the kids while Derek and Todd ran into Walmart for a couple of things. We were in Henderson a couple miles from the kids’ pediatrician because that was our next stop, but not for another hour. The eye Dr.’s office calls me wondering why we don’t have an appointment scheduled for this week because the Dr. was expecting to see Draikaiden. So I explain to her why we didn’t have an appointment, and that I tried to get one. She asks me to hold and puts someone else on the phone. I have to go through the conversation again.

I tell her, “Look, I’m frustrated about it because we are IN Vegas RIGHT now!”

So she puts me on hold, again, and puts the Dr. on the phone. So for the 3^rd time, I go through the conversation.

The Dr. is trying to make it seem like it’s MY fault that there is no appointment. She said that I should have told her receptionist to let me talk to her. I guess she’s right, but she should have educated her staff. I’m getting extremely frustrated with her and say, “I wanted him to be seen today and I tried to make the appointment, but YOUR office refused to make the appointment!”

She starts going off on the same spiel that the other receptionist from the other office did about how he NEEDS to be seen, except this time there was much more guilt! Since SHE took over his care, HE was HER responsibility and it was imperative for us to bring him in!

So I said, “I tried to get the appointment for today, it’s not MY fault you didn’t educate your staff!”

She asked if we could make it to the office that day. I told her we were in Henderson, about to go to the Pediatrician and if he could get us in early we MIGHT be able to make it there by 5. Then she pressured me like some insane car salesman to make an appointment for Friday, when I already knew there was NO way we could afford to come back on Friday. I had already told both of the Tag Team members I spoke to before her that we couldn’t make it back into Vegas for another 2 weeks. Then we hung up.

At 4:30 we’re still sitting at the Pediatrician’s office. I just LOVE this Dr.! So do the kids! He rocks! During our wait I had filled in hubby about the eye Dr. And being the loving wife I am, I made HIM call and let her office know we weren’t going to make it there by 5 and to cancel the Friday appointment. He’s put on hold 3 different times and has to talk to 3 different people just like I did. LOL! But he’s not so patient. This is when Derek and I start laughing our asses off and get an official warning from the Pediatrician’s Office to quiet down because the entire office could here everything my husband was saying.

I cannot quote the conversation because I don’t know verbatim what the Dr. said. And with each sentence Todd got louder, and louder, and louder. His face got red, his eyes turned red, smoke came out of his ears and nostrils, and he started breathing fire. He said multiple times that we CANNOT afford to come back until the 28^th and would be glad to schedule an appointment for that day. He repeatedly said that his wife tried to get an appointment for today but her office wouldn’t schedule it. I think he asked her twice if she heard anything he was saying. I can’t remember some of what he said because I was laughing so hard (I took my anxiety pills shortly before this Dr. appointment). But then she crossed a line. She told my husband that he was being selfish and adamant about himself and he needed to think about his son, it wasn’t up to HIM when to take his son to see a DR. it was up to HER because SHE was the Dr. who was treating him and SHE knew Better! So he told her he didn’t care what degrees she had hanging on her wall or what any of her license’s said, she obviously didn’t have any common sense and could go F#%* herself! Then he hung up the phone.

My jaw dropped and Derek and I just stared at him. After he told us what she said I could understand why he said it.

Oddly enough, the following night around 7:30 pm, her office manager left a message on our machine saying they had an appointment available for the 28^th for our son, and when we call the office we are to ask for her and speak only to her. She called the next day too.

We pondered about it. I really wasn’t sure I wanted to take him back. But I called anyways. I spoke to the Dr. She said she had a very heated discussion with my husband and usually after something like that she would turn away care for a child, but in this case, she felt she needed to see the baby again.

I asked why her and the other eye Dr. are DEMANDING we bring him in every 2 weeks and harassing us if we can’t make it. She said because it is a law of the State Medical Board. I told her we’d done our own research and know that he cannot be treated at Stage 1 or Stage 2, so what is wrong with her seeing him in 3 weeks? She doesn’t speak perfect English, so I’m not clear about everything she said, but it didn’t make any sense. She said his eyes improved between the last time the other Dr. saw him and the 1^st time she saw him. I tried to tell her we weren’t trying to be jerks and neglect our son and that we are in Vegas as much as we can possibly afford. Plus we have 2 other kids who need taken care of also so sometimes appointment dates just don’t line up and sometimes we just don’t have the money because of one reason or another. I don’t think she understood because she just kept saying he needs to be seen every two weeks.

So I am extremely frustrated about the way the Pediatric Eye Dr.’s treat parents. We haven’t had these problems with ANY other Dr.’s at ALL!!! And I am very frustrated with the incompetence in HER office. Draikaiden’s vessels are branching out around his eyeballs and that is exactly what his pediatrician said they’d do. He also said that he is OUR baby and it is OUR choice who we want to take him to. My husband had a great point. What happens to those people, you know those ones who don’t believe in Doctors at all? It’s actually against their religion to take their children to see any doctors. So if they can chose to not see any doctors ever, why can’t we choose take him to the eye doctor when we can afford it?

When the World Became Smaller

It’s funny how life, how just simply living, changes and shapes us. From one experience to the next we slowly become different people. Whether they are good experiences, bad ones, or neutral, they all change us in little ways.

When I was younger, I was afraid of everything. I had very little guidance, and even less moral guidance. When I was a teen I finally started learning about God. I tried to follow positive influences, but was still surrounded by the previous mentioned “guidance.” After I turned 18, everything became my decision. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, or even could, believe in God anymore, so I wandered off. There were mistakes, the bindings of new friendships, reunions with old ones, lesson after lesson. That seems to be a constant in life. No matter what you’re going through, there is some type of lesson to be learned. Some of us will actually learn the lesson and avoid the mistakes in the future; others will keep repeating the mistakes, never truly learning anything at all. But that is the beauty of life: you will always have another chance.

One thing I did learn for myself was that I needed to learn everything FOR myself. I needed the experiences. My husband and I were perfectly matched. We were both into rock music, vampires, death, cemeteries, and pretty much anything gothic. We had repressed feelings from our childhoods, wrote of sinister things, and decorated with black, dragons, gargoyles, and swords. And neither of us really believed in religion and were both doubtful of God.

Then a day came that changed my every aspect on life. Four words were all I heard on the other end of the line. Four little words stopped my world from turning.

Linda called us from across town around 4 am. She was crying and choked out, “Your Dad is dead.”

That one experience has changed me forever. It’s not exactly something you can learn from, but it is something you can grow from, strangely.

I dropped the phone, dropped to my knees as Todd tried to catch me and grab the phone. He asked Linda what was going on and she told him. He told her we’d be right over. Then he kneeled on the kitchen floor, holding me while I cried hysterically and repeated deliriously that it wasn’t real. I don’t know how long we sat there on the floor before I started to think about Linda being alone. So we collected ourselves, and headed out to Dad’s house.

The cops were already there. Todd parked the car and I jumped out, started running towards the house. Just as I got to the front porch I stopped, broke into hysterics again. There was no way I could go in that house. Todd went in to see Linda and let her know we were there. I stayed outside until the ambulance took Dad away. They say most people need to see the body in order to get closure but that was just a memory I didn’t want. I was happy with the last memory I had of Dad, and I was going to keep it that way.

The world seemed smaller after that day. March 19, 2005. Things I thought were so important just weren’t anymore. I’d never felt more empty in all my life.

It’s been six years. I’m no longer fascinated with death. If anything, I fear it. People have their theories on what happens after death, but all we actually know is that no one really comes back. They’re here one day, and then they’re gone. Just… gone. And I also believe in Heaven now. Because the thought of an absolute end, where I’ll never see Dad again, well, those thoughts just don’t fit in my head.

I don’t think death is evil. It’s natural. Death is just unforgiving. There is no second chance. There is no rewind button. There is no point you can just start over and try again. There is no lesson learned. There is no chance of changing all the things you wish you could have changed about the time you had with the person who died. You can’t go back and spend more time with them, tell them how wonderful they are, and how blessed you’ve been to have them in your life. You can’t tell them that you wouldn’t trade them for any other father in the world.

There were a few people who were pretty upset that I was the one who lived near Dad, that I chose to move 3000 miles away from everything and everyone else I’d ever known. I was told who he was by everyone in my life my whole life. It was my decision to find out for myself, to live near him, and get to know him. That was the part of me that needed to learn things for myself. I learned firsthand what a wonderful man he was. Six years was our time, and even though our time was short, I wouldn’t change it for anything you could offer.

Six years may seem like a long time to most people for someone to be grieving, but for pain that deep time has no meaning. It’s a hurt that doesn’t end with a void nothing else can fill. I still cry every time I look through our wedding album. The wedding was 3 months before Dad passed. I had to leave the room the one time my mother-in-law put in our wedding video. It’s hard looking at any of his photos. I can’t listen to my Dad singing his classic songs. I become a total nutcase the week of his death every year, and on his birthday. When I try to explain to my kids where Grandpa is, I break down every time. And thankfully, Todd will let me cry, and just tell me how much Dad loved me. He’s never once made me feel bad for just missing my Dad. I am fortunate to have him.

I don’t fear my Dad’s memory. I can’t think of a single bad one about him. And it’s not that I don’t want to remember him, because I do. I just don’t want to remember that he’s gone.

 We had a slight malfunction with my wedding dress, so everyone who 

was there did what they could think of to get it fixed!

 We danced to Rope the Moon, by John Michael Montgomery. 

It was the song I dedicated to him at the wedding.

“My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

~Clarence B. Kelland