So it's my birthday today.
Stop it. Hush.
I'm not a birthday person. Hell, I'm not a Christmas Person, I'm not a Thanksgiving Person...I'm not a person. Period.
I like my birthday's in silence. I like them to go un-noticed. I like to be alone and have a nice, quiet day.
I so hate, my parent's traditional birthday celebrations. They get me Carvel Cake, the same one, EVERY SINGLE YEAR. I have no idea who told them I like that cake THAT much. They bicker all night and prolong the singing until I almost wanna have a root canal.
But, alas, the Lord works in misterious ways and has paired me with Mr. Birthday Man himself.
The man who LOVES birthdays.
Who throws the most lavish birthdays for himself.
Who loves to play at birthdays.
So he's like: "Aren't you gonna do anything?"
So, I budged.
But it ain't a party.
I prefer the term "gettogether"
With about 20 of my closest friends, a homemade cake by my bro's gal and music.
NO CARVEL VIETNAM.
So I cleaned the house yesterday, Vader is making the o'derves and True is helping out.
"So, you need anything else??" "Not really..." "You don't need balloons?"
DO I LOOK LIKE I NEED BALLOONS.
There was a silence for about 15 seconds.
I don't like birthdays. What would make you think I like balloons.
The only balloons I've allowed were for Miss C's birthdays, which I have to stick out and there were two parties sans balloons.
Birthday party rules need to be modified.
No balloons, no singing "Happy Birthday" and NO NO cake smeared on faces...
But that's just me....
But I am looking forward to tonight and see my friends and eat homemade cake and food...so I guess I can make some exceptions...
It's a farm themed event, due to the fact that people say I like in the farm district...so instead of getting pissed I made invites with a farm logo...
You know your a gonner:
When you were your underwear inside out for the 3rd time this week.
I'm no saying it happened to me.
::tugs at size tag poking out from her jeans::
and not in a good way.
Why am I not surprised??
The governor was indicted on God knows how many counts of corruption, fraud, etc. etc. and is being taken into Federal Custody tomorrow.
New York's hooker loving governor has nothing on ours!
I guess our tourism motto is true:
Puerto Rico DOES do it better.
Yesterday I watched this: Autism The Musical
I don't know if it was a smart move on my behalf...or due to the state I'm in these days, healthy for me.
I saw myself in so many of those families.
I almost died when Lexi's mom yelled: "What kind of mother wishes their child die before them???"
I ended my night with so many questions, doubts, fear, anger...above all perplexed...
How could the God of love allow this to happen??
True's answer: "So that He may manifest his Glory"
I'm sorry, but that sounds very egotistical to me.
Why allow grief and pain into a house...why allow a child to suffer from ANY type of illness??
I maybe understand the part about having their parents 'see the light'...but what if they don't?? Does this child have to suffer those consequences???
The documentary ended and I sniffled my way into bed, with my rage and my frustration aboard and all I could muster was:
Help me understand the why.
I sure hope the guy is diligent with his calls.
MLB started...Boston won last night in Tokyo.
I don' t care that much that they won, I'm just happy I have a little recreational fun to look forward to!!
I think I am the only person on this planet who can proudly and happily say:
"Thank God it's Monday!"
One more day in that house and I'd crack.
That's how my weekend went.
A crying kid. A screaming Kid.
I took her to the park on Saturday. I had invited all the parents of the Autism Support Group.
Everyone had an awesome time.
The belle of the ball, the sight for everyone was Miss C. Crying, Screaming, Pushing, Yelling...
Just a handful.
Everyone tried to help.
But no one had any luck.
The people in the next door gazebo (the ones who weren't in our party) looked on in shock, made comments, couldn't stop looking at the kid in the corner screaming her head off, while everyone else had such a great time.
Yesterday I tried to go to church, ten minutes there and she began to scream, whine, cry:
"I wanna go home...too much noise!"
The service hadn't even begun...we were just sitting there in complete silence at Bible School.
I picked up my stuff and left. I had had it.
I wasn't doing another church Sunday in HELL.
Just as I pulled out, my pastor waited on the curb, with his leg sticking out...he motioned me to stop.
He hugged me.
He prayed for me.
Asked if I was going to leave.
"I'm tired" was all I could muster between my tears. Autism has sucked the life out of us these days.
He prayed some more.
Let me go home.
I stuck Miss C in her room all day, no tv, no contact with the human world.
She cried, she screamed, she even prayed.
"Mom, I'm praying to Jesus"
Keep praying Kid.
She only came out to eat and pee.
I gave her a shower and put her to bed, by herself.
Today she woke up with more of the same...severe attitude problem...I was sooo happy to drop her off at school.
Thursday the women of my church are gonna meet up with me to pray for me and her.
I'm exhausted but thrilled to be at the office with a pile of paperwork and a whip cracking boss...
There is no way to understand us, is there?
My family has never been a loving one.
There is no way to deny it.
We don't go around proclaiming our love for each other, or hugging or even less, God Forbid, kissing.
We just do our thang and we know we love each other and that's enough for everyone.
But every once in a while, there will come a weird day where someone will do something to demonstrate their love like for example:
Buy a pound of smoked ham, have it deli sliced and place it in your fridge.
With a voice mail that said: "I bought you some ham cause you said you like it the other days".
Who ever knew smoked ham could say I love you.
Vietnam you are a weird man.
There is a particular person, who I will not say who it is, or where they are from or how they surround or are related to me, that ALWAYS waits till I am eating to ask for some of my food.
"Ask" I mean, grab a plate, napkin or some sort of container and put their hands in MY food, load up their plate and leave.
"I just want a little".
I've been condescending, nice, quiet....have said nothing.
Don't wanna sound greedy.
But today I just about had it.
"You went to have lunch and you didn't tell me???!!...Ooooh I'm having some of those fries"
Then proceeded to take my empty fry pouch and self serve.
I stared in disbelief.
"You've got some nerve!!! This is my lunch, I bought a small amount for me and you're gonna take the little I have!!"
The person took my fries anyway and answered "Never underestimate a little bit of food. I had an aunt that cooked a little and managed to feed a lot of people".
Is this some sort of fish and bread parable????
I am so getting a pocket-machete this weekend.
I just absolutely hate it when I'm working and someone comes up and sees the pile of Chaos on my desk and asks me: "do you have a moment?"
for something totally non work related, that could probably wait until hell freezes over.
It's a long weekend over here....I might not be working tomorrow, which means I'll be off until Sunday.
I'm not even gonna count the days that I'm gonna be home with a child on my hands.
We were originally planning to Guanica like we did last year with True's folks (their anniversary is Friday) but True's working on Sunday and I have a huge play date as well. So Friday looks like Vader's coming over to be our personal chef and Thursday is looking like a plain day. I might hit the beach if the weather lightens up.
Other than that, it looks like my DVR is gonna be my friend this weekend.
What are you guys up to this Easter weekend?
I'm tired but I can't sleep.
I'm totally zoning out.
I catch myself driving with my vision completely blank and my mouth totally open, catching flies.
I don't have a mind to do anything.
Simple tasks such as folding laundry are too complex for my brain right now.
I'm in hibernation mode. Away from the world. Work and drive home. Even True has gotten a little vacation from me.
I just need to sort things out and recharge my batteries.
What have you been up to?
One word to describe my weekend:
Labels: Weekend Recap
I don’t know what happened.
I woke up this morning and things were different.
Things have shifted.
Things were different.
I had the urge to create, paint, work, live, love, laugh, cry, scream…All all rolled into one.
I think I may have inhaled too much Rust Oleum last night while painting my table.
I had God tell me the other days, the other bleak days that are behind me, “You’ve got to snatch (he used ‘snatch’ and not ‘take’) back what is yours”.
I proceeded with my morning. Feeling the change but not understanding it.
I dropped Miss C off at her Field Day today with much heartache, since I could not stay. I had taken a few days off to attend to her health and I couldn’t bare another day. I saw all the parents stay and cheer for their kids and I felt like crap.
It sucks to be a working mom sometimes.
But then I understood.
Then the answer came, right when I was feeling guilty for not being a better mom.
“How do you snatch back what you can’t grab?”
YOU JUST DO IT.
In the most aggressive, powerful, no holds barred, this means war and I’m not gonna take it anymore type of way.
I was going to snatch back my daughter, even if it meant my own life. I AM going to snatch back her health, her life, OUR life, MY health, OUR happiness and I am going to declare war on all the thoughts, feelings, things, people, that will try to come into our lives and take what doesn’t belong to them, that come in and try to make me feel like a crappy mom, like I haven’t done enough.
I’VE DONE MY PART AND I’VE DONE IT THE BEST THAT I CAN DO.
AND THAT’S GOOD ENOUGH FOR US.
So before I pulled out, I found my camera in my backpack, went back to the park, marched with my daughter into the field. I took her picture, hugged her and made sure she knew I loved her more than anything in this world.
I’d be lying if I told you I left feeling satisfied and happy and content.
I still felt a little guilty.
But something changed.As I drove to work, I wanted to to hug the homeless, tell them Christ loves them, take them home, get them washed up and feed them some home cooking. I felt the impulse to scream to everyone single mom: “You CAN make it!!” I wanted to go to every ledge, every solitary room, and every single place where someone is thinking about ending their life right now and give them a hug and tell them I love them.
I felt empowered.
And even though I don’t deserve all the wonderful things that God has put and continues to place in our lives, they are ALL MINE.
AND I’M TAKING SNATCHING THEM BACK.
Today my Best Friend in the Whole Wide World and the hottest future momma that ever walked on this planet (cuz Lord knows I wasn't the hottest future momma) turns Twenty something...
I ain't saying the something to still hold on to a bit of dignity...
I know she reads this, so...here goes:
I love ya little lady...and I wish you the best birthday ever...may God bless you very very much and your little "muppet" (@ copyrighted term) too!!!
Hallelujah sweet baby Jesus...it's spring....
which only means one thing in my book:
Billy Crystal was signed to play a game with the Yankees and I've got plans to visit the stadium one last time in August right before it closes forever........
What do you think about a flyer that invites you to a week long church event...but it's backside proudly announces a new Bar and Grill joint....
Talk about mass advertising...
No, I've haven't been swiped off the blogger hemisphere...
I've had a long weekend.
And NOT in a good way.
I have a sick child on my hands.
Sick children are NOT fun.
Sick-hallucinating-on-deadly-anti-biotics is NOT FUN AT ALL.
Ok. I'm lying.
Maybe it was a bit funny.
Especially the part where she screamed she needed "more cold now" and threw herself on the floor in front of the A/C.
Or the part where she demanded "ice...ICE NOW FOR MY EXPLODING BRAINS!"
I kid you not the girl is gonna win us an OSCAR.
The part I liked the most was when she mentioned bunnies and punches and was hot and cold all in a period of 30 seconds.
And who can forget the biggest proof of our love-hate relationship.
"NOOOO...DON'T LEAVE ME MOMMA...PUHLEEEEEEESE!!"
Antibiotics are from hell...and she keeps spitting out the Nystatin....
She's still sick as I type right now, but for a momma who has gotten about 4 hours of sleep these past few days, it's good to be at the office.
You know your hip modern life is over and that you are adventuring into the cold abyss of getting old, when your in traffic and are enjoying the #1 station pre-set on your favorites:
How do you know you're plunging into the abyss?
She spit on someone's face yesterday. Someone being the owner of the daycare she attends in the afternoon.
My heart just broke a little bit more.
I was driving this morning when "Sweet Child of Mine" the version Sheryl Crow does, came on the radio...
She sang: "Where do we go now?"
I don't know.
Part of me wants to go to war and make someone pay and take back what is mine.
and Part of me wants the easy route, give in, give her some meds and be on my merry way.
It's not fair that after all we've conquered we seem to be back at square one.
It's not fair that after all these years, I still have tears to shed.
Part of me can't even stand to see my Kid.
Part of me longs for her to fall asleep so I can have some time to myself.
Part of me wants to wake her up and reassure her that I'll love her no matter what and that whatever this thing is, we'll make it through.
Part of me knows this is easier said than done.
For the first time in my adult life, my mom told me to sit on her lap and she hugged me, kissed me and told me everything was going to be all right.
For the first time in my adult life she did not scold me, or yell at me, or tell me I was being exaggerated, or questioned my tears, or call me a wuss.
For the first time in my adult life, she told me she would give anything she had to make it all go away.
For the first time in my adult life she let me cry and didn't judge me.
For the first time in what it seems like ages she wasn't Vader. She was my mom.
Ever get the feeling that "One of these things is not like the Other" and that "these things" is another nice term meaning "You".
Let me just sum this up for ya'...
Tuesday: Parent / Teacher meeting, "Miss C is great academically, but after Auditory Training, her misbehavior has skyrocketed, she'll be going to first grade, but we are all very concerned". Yeah, well join the club.
Friday: We discover she has 7 homework assignments and a project due on Tuesday. Joy. I yell at her for something and she answers with the Spanish equivalent of "fuck you" My jaw drops in shock and I try to keep my sugar together and avoid going haywire myself.
Saturday: She is haywire at True's house, writes on wall with crayons and is just plain irritable. Later on, as we are doing homework I revise her communications notebook and discover a note from her teacher, stating she "touched very hard" (bitch slap, anyone?) an assistant's face.
As I am telling her she can't do this type of stuff, she looks at me very as-a-matter-of-factly and says her new phrase again. I burst into tears, try not to kill her and True takes over with the homework.
Sunday: Before leaving church I tell her that if she misbehaves one bit, she will not be joining the other children for their Sunday class.
....So we are at Sunday...
Miss C is busy doing her thing...hitting, jumping up and down, not following instructions, wanting to eat (she is always hungry) and basically digging my grave. I take her into the bathroom and do what I NEVER do....I pull down her pants and spank her.
I apologize. But a human being can take so much. She is hitting my face, poking me, head butting me; clearly pushing my buttons.
True takes charge and tells me to go enjoy the service; he'll sit with her in the conference room.
I try to sing, try to praise, but I'm furious, I'm hellamad.
Then it happened.
Something that had not happened in years.
I saw the rest of the children dancing and waving their banners and singing...and I couldn't stand it.
The pain was way too much.
I tried to control myself, but I couldn't.
For the first time in several years it hurt to see other children. Other meaning 'normal'.
I felt a tinge of envy. For the first time in months I started thinking things people shouldn't think of.
I made my way out of the main church and into the children's room, passing by True.
I walked in the room, leaned on the wall and began to sob.
True walked in, worried as hell.
"What happened? What's wrong?"
"I can't be outside today. It hurts to see the kids".
"Because my kid isn't one of them".
"Oh, ..." and he started what was a speech of 'dontthinklikethatmisscisspecial' and I cut him off.
Sorry, but no one can understand unless they are in your skin
He left me alone.
He is a good man and has an idea of what I'm going through, but it's not the same.
You wait 9 months for a child and get this ball of chaos. A ball of chaos you did not sign up for.
It' s a cold hand to be dealt.
I tried to calm down, Miss C calmed down a bit, but as soon as the kids went in for their class, hell broke loose again.
If you remember the previous lines, the deal was this: be good, go to class with kids, be bad, sit with mom.
Applied Behavioral Analysis.
She cried, she pleaded, she screamed in my ear, she hit...she begged: "I WANNA GO WITH MY KIIIIIIIDSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!"
Why not let her go with the kids and free myself of this agony...????
If I did, I would defy the whole purpose of discipline. Miss C would quickly realize that she could have her way with a little bit of pressure and I'd be screwed.
At one point it was a tear fest...Me and Miss C, who'd cry and go crazy first. She grabbed my head, I'd grab hers...it was a sight.
I guess it was very loud because eventually my Pastor came in to see what was happening.
Her take, she did not agree that I should punish Miss C by not letting her be with the kids. She said I should never punish her by keeping her away from the word of God. I started to cry. But this time my tears were of sheer anger. I explained nicely that this was the way I was going to discipline her and that my intentions were not to keep her away from God, that this was the way it was going to be, period.
I left church yesterday feeling humiliated, angry, spiteful, devastated.
We eventually went out to eat to clear our minds and ended up having a much better late afternoon.
But the headache and the heartache were too much to bear and it seems that no matter how much people think they understand, the truth is, no one who isn't walking in those shoes, does.