Wait...What?

The theme for this month at NaBloPoMo is Big. I realize that today is April Fool's Day and I couldn't give two shits about that. Staying true to this month's theme: Yesterday? One large, overflowing, pungent, BIG piece of shit. No exaggeration people. BIG PIECE OF SHIT day. Wanna know why? Of course you do! How could you not with that enticing intro right? Here's how yesterday made it to that glorious state: I got approximately 2 hours of sleep. Not in any consecutive form either. There's a teething baby. All sorts of awesome there. The boy got on the bus just fine. I was feeding the girls breakfast (my two girls and my 2 year old niece ). The school called. You can see where this is going yes? My seven year old boy was suspended. Again. For the third time. This time it's for three days. There goes the week. Worse? It's his last week at this school. He'll be starting his new school next week. I'll post more on that later. I went to his school, had a...

One of the downsides to being depressed and not feeling like yourself is that well, you don't feel like yourself. Oh sure, I still feel like a completely incompetent parental unit. That hasn't changed. I feel like I've changed though and I'm not sure it's for the better. Know what I mean? Another one is that you can't write for shit. Seriously. I think I've started over a dozen posts and I get one paragraph in and I'm done. It blows. There's so much floating around in my head, besides the dust, and I want need have to get it out. I find myself getting lost in thoughts all the time. Staring off into who knows where. I have these headaches that come and go, almost debilitating. I feel like I'm outside of my body. My brain just takes a vacation sometimes and I'll be damned if I don't come back with a tan. Not one single time. I laugh it off, the stupidity of it all. The forgetfulness, the space cadet thinking, oh don't worry, it...

Dearest 6yr Old Boy Of Mine, I know you come by it honestly. Really. I know I talk a lot. And I realize that's an understatement of damn near biblical epic proportions. I get that from Papa. He gets that from Gramma Lulu. So on and so forth (back forth?) I am also aware that mostly it's the Aspergers, the ODD, the other crap that came with your AD diagnosis. That being said..... Holy hell child, please stop talking so much when it's time to go to bed. I know people will get on my case saying that's what kids do, they procrastinate, they do all in their powers to derail that nighttime train of zzzz's. Seriously though? These people have never spent an hour with you trying to get you to just lay down. Just. lay. down. already. I know you have "big news" as you put it and I'm so happy that you want to share that news with Daddy and I. It's just that, well, we've heard the same "big news" all evening and well into this ritual that we g...

Preschool, an ablation, self doubts, potty training, tempers, anxiety, pain, sadness, worry. I can't deal with all of this at once. It's just too much for one person. Separately, these things are not so bad. Throw them all together and voila ! You've got me heading down into my funk. I don't like my funk. I'm not me when I'm there. I hate medication. Last one I was on made me feel weird and not in a good way weird. I don't know what to do anymore. I just think about letting life flow right by me. No need to jump in all the time. Take a break. I can't do that though. Not as a parent. I shouldn't worry about seemingly silly things. Emotions that all parents go through and yet here I am. Doing just that. I don't want to take the boy to the doctors' but we need help with him. I hurt for him. I cry for him when people look at him as if he's a high maintenance child. High energy. High stress. Hey, that's my son you're talking about. Ple...

So yeah, had an awesome post about this that and the other and my computer took a shit on me. I've screamed and cried and really freaked out my kids. Thank every religious figure and the tomato plants in the backyard that I have my appointment tomorrow. This crap medication they have me on is doing nothing for me and I feel like a shittier mom everyday. I actually said to Monkey Boy that I just did not want to hear his voice today and could he please just go up to his room. He cried at me. I can't do this to my kids. I can't do this for 3 or 6 months while we dick around with what meds are gonna work. I know they can't just give me something and say we promise this shit's the bomb but they could certainly try. I won't mind. I really am so disappointed in myself that I've turned out this way. This is not who I am, not who I aspired to be and I'll be damned if this is anywhere near the kind of mother I intended to be to my children. I cry every night when ...

Thank you for all of the encouraging emails I've been getting. I'm almost ready to come back. I've been working on me lately and not liking some things. Trying to fix me is hard. Hell, dealing with me on a good day is difficult I'm sure. I'm going to my parents' place this weekend with Peanut so I should have some time there to post. Thanks again for the support everyone.