Author: Dre

Milestones

My Baby Girl,

It’s been a year. Three hundred and sixty-five full days.

I’m not a superstitious person by any means, but these dates – November 10th, 11th and 12th – have been looming in my mind.

When we came home from the hospital, a year ago today, I made a deal with myself that if I could keep you healthy for a year, I could stop worrying so much about your future.

A whole year. A lofty goal, if ever there was one.

But here you are, my gorgeous little girl, smiling and laughing without a care in the world. We made it, me and you. A year. Nearly a third of your life without a major illness.

What a milestone, and you don’t even know you’ve reached it.

Just looking at you, today, brings tears to my eyes.

Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, you know. And I don’t. I don’t prefer you or your sister over each other. But my love for each of you is different. Custom made, day by day.

So much of life before you was filled with what the future held, with making plans, with expectations, with tiny little details that didn’t really matter.

Since you came into my life, though, I haven’t taken a single thing for granted. Not for a moment.

We’ve had to fight for this, haven’t we, baby girl? From the very beginning, nothing about your life has been simple or ordinary.

I sit back and watch you sometimes, doing your little girl things, and I’m amazed that we have reached this place. This point in time where you can just wake up in the morning and go through your day like it’s no big deal. As though tomorrow is guaranteed.

I am so happy to be in this place – this now – with you.

You amaze me, my sassy second child. You are filled with the kind of fire most people only dream of, and you’re only three. Three!

Today, I dare to think of what the future holds for you.

And now here you are, sleeping next to me.

Of course I needed you near me on the anniversary of the most traumatic night of our lives, didn’t I? The night that haunted us for months. The night that changed the lives of every single person involved.

I had to have you close to me, so that I could smell you and hear you breathe and bury my face in your hair. So that I could reach out and touch you and know that you are here, right here, with me.

I am so glad you’re here, baby girl.

And you are well.

Yes, you are.

—————

To read the story from a year ago, go here, here and here although, reading those posts again, a year later, I can’t believe I left out so much of what happened.

Life in general Marriage Surviving

Angst

Post author By Dre
Post date November 8, 2010
7 Comments on Angst

I’ve been feeling a little angsty lately, which I realize is understandable given the current circumstances of my life.

But I don’t want to spend any amount of time feeling anxious and morose. What’s the use in that?

So I went out for dinner and drinks with my girl Kelly, who helped me kick that shit to the curb, where it belongs.

Here’s the thing.

I spent nearly 3 years of my life being told what I was and wasn’t allowed to do – and I hated it.

Now I’ve got all this freedom, right? I’m alone a lot of the time, but I’m never lonely. I get to make my own choices and be my own damn self, which makes me incredibly happy.

So where’s the angst coming from?

Along with all the amazing and helpful support I get, a whole lot of advice gets thrown my way from people who presume to know what’s best for me, for us.

Their intentions are good, their hearts are in the right place… Or so I assume.

At first, I would just smile and nod and thank them for their concern. Tell them, as I tell pretty much anyone who asks, that I’m taking things day by day and that in general, things are good.

It is what it is, things are what they are, from one moment to the next.

It’s interesting, though, how pushy people can get when you don’t take their advice. How downright catty people can get when they think you’re doing it all wrong.

I’m getting a little tired of it, to be honest. I’ve had enough of being pushed, of being told what to do.

I admit that I’ve never been through anything like this, that there are times when I haven’t a clue what step to take next, when I worry that I haven’t handled things thus far the way I should have.

—– Just FYI: I don’t want anyone to think I don’t appreciate the support they’ve given me. If you’re here reading, this probably doesn’t apply to you at all. Unless you’re an asshole, in which case, take note: you stink, and nobody likes you. Sorry. —–

So all this doubt built up: Am I doing the right thing? Should I be doing things differently? Are my kids going to end up all fucked up in the head? Am I, in fact, a bitch for standing my ground?

But no… really, no.

I have to do this my way, even if it’s unconventional. With guidance, with support, with advice that I can pick and choose from when the time comes to act, however long that may take.

But, ultimately, my way.

—–

Also has to be said: Fuck ’em if they think I’m doing it wrong… at least I’m doing something. Alternately I could lay in bed all day, unwashed, letting the kids eat spoiled food out of the garbage. Maybe they’d understand that course of action a little more. You think??

Life in general Ranch Life

Nomad

Post author By Dre
Post date November 6, 2010
5 Comments on Nomad

I find myself living in a small town.

Here I am, in this place called home.

I have never known permanence and it makes me foreign to these people.

I make them uncomfortable with my strange ideas and illogical thoughts… with the way I challenge their social norms.

Sometimes I feel as though I’ve overstayed my welcome.

Home has always been wherever the wind carries me.

And happiness? Happiness is anywhere. Everywhere.

All my life, there was a constant ebb and flow of new and old.

But here. A small town cemented in tradition and closed minded thinking.

I will never fit.

And I don’t want to.

Life in general Surviving

What a Girl Wants

Over the past month, some truly amazing people have offered to help my family find our way through the drama and trauma we’re dealing with.

It’s been a tremendous relief to me, knowing that I’ve got experienced navigators guiding me as I walk through what I can only begin to describe as unfamiliar territory.

Last week, one of them gave me an assignment that I’ve been struggling to complete.

The task? To spend some time creating three lists that will supposedly help me figure out how to move forward from here.

Sounds pretty good, since I’d rather not wander around in circles.

The first was to be a list of my priorities. They needed to be specific enough to be used as goals, but vague enough that they would still apply to my life in 10 years time.

So far, only three items have made this list… and you might be surprised at how long it took me to come up with them.

1. To help my kids be as healthy as possible in every way – physically, emotionally, mentally.

2. To actively educate myself and others on the effects of corn on the body.

3. To have healthy relationships wherein the people involved treat each other with as much respect and kindness as possible.

The second, and by far the easiest for me to complete, was a list of the things I know I absolutely don’t want.

Let me just tell you that this list is long. Very, very long. And specific. Apparently I really know what I don’t want.

The third and final list is still completely blank. I’m supposed to name the things that I know I definitely want.

If I had been asked to create this list 6 weeks ago, I think I could have quickly filled pages and pages with wants, desires, hopes and dreams.

But now? I’m at a complete loss.

What do I want, now that I can reach for the moon if I’m so inclined?

I’m not sure I know where to begin.

Allergies Kids Special Needs

Halloween : Special Needs

My girls went trick or treating last night, just like the majority of kids in industrialized nations around the world.

This year was the first time that Blythe, at age 3 1/2, willingly participated.

In previous years she either had no interest at all, or completely hated the festivities involved.

It’s significant for her, a child with severe food allergies and Sensory Processing Disorder, to willingly participate in something that puts her so far out of her comfort zone.

She can’t eat any of the candy she collects. I buy special corn-free candy for her beforehand, and trade her for her stash so that she can have some treats. It amazes me that she doesn’t mind handing over her goodies.

Until a few months ago, her SPD kept her from appreciating the joy of dressing up. She was terrified of costumes of any kind. Wigs, masks, feathers, anything with texture freaked her out to the point of a complete meltdown.

Last year, in preparation for Halloween, I spent months choosing a costume for her that resembled her beloved footy jammies, but in the end… there was no costume.

She wore her footy jammies with a name tag that read, “Hello, I’m STUBBORN” and you wouldn’t believe the laughs she generated.

My kid was terrified of the costumes, completely intimidated by the idea of wearing something ‘different’ and couldn’t even eat the candy she collected… in my mind, I thought, “What’s the point??”

Halloween was a nightmare, to put it mildly… but I wasn’t about to deprive Alison of her night of fun when she willingly gives up so much for the sake of her sister on a regular basis.

This year, though, was different. Blythe actually showed an interest in choosing a costume and was set on being a ghost. Which changed into a very, very strong desire to be Princess Ariel… something rather out of character, but who am I to say what she can or can’t be??

She wore her Princess costume, at first over footy pajamas (of course) and then over her favorite outfit.

She trick-or-treated for awhile with her sister and friend, and then decided to help me and her friend’s mom pass out candy.

She never complained, not a single time, that she couldn’t eat the candy.

She loved her costume, and cried when it was time to take it off and go to bed.

What a difference a year makes. My girl…. she amazes me every single day.

Every. Single. Day.