1.30.2010

so shoot me



So I heard a little tid bit of interesting the other day.



Did you know that the angriest community in the world are mothers of young children?



Me either!



I wasn't sure if I should laugh in liberated delight. That I am not alone!



Or cry that I am she?



The proof is in the pissy.



And I have been pissy. Indeed.





So shoot me.








Maybe it's the just passed holiday blues...looming birthday row...all this transition jazz...or PT(my child had 1/2 of his brain removed)SD finally catching up to me?




I used to be Miss. Optimism Joy. Once upon a time. I actually won the best smile award once. Had gloomy people tell me how they hated my perpetual happy. I've changed so much...in so many ways. As my skinny pics like to taunt me!


I hardly recognize myself anymore.



In the mirror. Or the heart.



And sometimes it makes me sad. Sometimes I'm not so sure that I'm really being Shaped. Or that I was ever cut out for this mess. Sometimes I wonder if I'd be happier had things worked out differently. If Trevy were born whole. And that I still had no idea about things like seizures and radical brain surgeries on toddlers. Sometimes I wish things were easier.



How shallow...right. I know. I've looked to my left...and have seen those with more on their plate than myself.



And yet...




Oh so shoot me that sometimes I wallow in my shallow.





I know I have SO much to be thankful for.



God, do I ever know.



I know every time Trevy smiles at me is a mini miracle. Or gives me hi five. Or imitates his brother or sister. Or does anything that was absent before the nightmare-miracle. Not to mention all the developmental successes he had pre-radical brain surgery. For which I am often reminded both by myself...and others.







But you know what?



Sometimes I'm just not. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me.



Sometimes I'm sad. And angry. And disappointed. Faithless. Overwhelmed. Grinchy...with a side of pissy.



Which reminds me of Christmas.



Instead of being saturated in thankfulness. I was slowly drowning in dsiappointment. As I watched Trevy's reaction to each offered gift. There was no tearing into wrapping paper...hunting for the goodie underneath. Because there was no understanding that something fun was hidden. Chosen specifically with a little scar headed toddler in mind. With heart visions of wrapping paper swirling above the chaos. Happily fluttering to the floor. Where it would be smushed underfoot of an exuberant understanding scar headed toddler! I even used tissue paper too. Hoping that the opaque red elmo would be noticed first. And discovered by the tearing away of toddler paws.



Elmo was not found. At least not without help.



And the Seizure Monster laughed as Disappointment ate my Christmas joy for breakfast.



I should have taken my own cliche to heart...



Great expectations lead to great disappointments.




So shoot me.



That in spite of every thing I have to celebrate...



Sometimes I don't.



Sometimes I cry. And whine. And sulk. And scream. And rage. And yell at the kids. Take it out on Jonathan. And silently pity party through Christmas. And the weeks following.



Sometimes I notice the glaring gap between where he is. And where he should be. Instead of focusing on the miracle side of where he is. And where he could be.




Sometimes it's all too much. And I just want to curl up in a ball and hibernate until the Future that's far too slowly unraveling is no longer unknown. And I can wrap my heart around who he will be.




Sometimes the Sad Tide wells up. And I'm a sobbing mess. For me. For Trevy. For my children who can carry on conversations about brain tissue being studied and uncontrollable seizures. For my husband who works a job that brings him no sense of self worth because the job that did was stolen from him by the Seizure Monster. Sometimes my tears even flow for those of you I've grown to love. I hate that you have to suffer.



Sometimes a storm just feels like a flippin' storm.



I'm allowed to sometimes feel like the sad eclipses the happy you know.



It's in the rules.




Somewhere. Ecclesiastes maybe?



So shoot me that I have selfish emotional basket case days.






Shoot me that...



...instead of being thrilled that the milestone roller coaster is finally creeping forward. That instead...today...I'm overwhelmed with it all.




Sure we've made gains. But standing here. At the base of the mountain towering over Trevy. Looking up. Up. Up. Up. Up.



It just feels heartbreaking. And more than hard. Impossible. And like...this isn't supposed to be my life.






And yes. I know that I should be happy that we can even stand here. And dare to look up.





Maybe tomorrow I'll be bigger.




But go ahead and shoot me today. Cause I can tell the pissy party has set in for the time being.






And today. I'm Grinching it out on the blog. Call it therapy.






See...



...this is what happens when your husband and first born are at a baseball cinic. Your daughter is engrossed in a Barbie and the Magic whatever. Trevy's meds have kicked in and he's taking an early morning nap.



And I'you're left alone. With your turbulent heart. And thoughts.



And happen to blog for a hobby.








Now that I've spilled all those guts let me add.



I do Believe. Even if my faith is sketchy at times. I Believe that this Life was Given to me. To Trevy. That there is a Purpose for his beautiful broken little life. And mine. Yours. And I deeply hope all of this...this...mess...is changing me. And not just at the hips. But in the heart.






11 comments:

Anonymous said...

I dunno what to say.
I'm having an 'up' time, but know that there will be down times ahead, as all this sinks in.

I hope by then, you are back on the up and can give me a good shake and put me back on my feet.

There is Progress, and progress is Good.

(I don't have such faith as yours but hope that yours keeps you strong.)

kt x

baby trevor's mommy said...

Thanks, luv.

Thoroughly enjoy your happy time!

xoxo

...d

Debbie said...

wish we lived closer...we could be grinchy together.

hugs

MJStump said...

how is it that you have a post that sums up what i am feeling...have been feeling, and just can't seem to find the words to express it all.

yeah, i wonder a lot about how i'm not quite wired to handle all of this and be what i need to be a mom and get through all that we have been through.

i know we are blessed and have come along way from where we were and where we could be. there are times like now where i lose sight of all that and have fear, anger, sadness, and every other not so positive emotion because of everything.

the latest news of kylie just presents new fears and worries. im just really sick and tired of going through this stuff, and want so much for it to be done. i so deeply want the more normal-like stuff, not having to jump through hoops and trying to figure how well we can turn things into being as close to normalcy as we can.

then again, what really is normal...what i am really looking for. i love kylie how she is and how silly, and sweet she is....just can't help but wish this all wasn't part of her journey and ours.

so yeah..maybe just shoot me too, cause im in the boat of pissy as well.

sending hugs, prayers, and a dose of smiles for us all.

jody

Sophie's Story by Elaine said...

What else can I say but that I know EXACTLY how you are feeling. I love you for writing this post. It is so honest and pure.

Guess what...today is exactly 8 months of seizure freedom for Sophie. It's been 8 months!!! I can't believe it. It doesn't feel like it has been that long. And yet sometimes I have to remind myself that it really isn't that long. Considering the fact that she had almost half her brain removed. But she is getting better. Each and every day. And some days it feels easier than others. Some days are full of happiness and hopes. Some days are not.

One day at a time...

Noah's Mom said...

Bless you for your honesty. I should just "copy and paste" your blog to mine. I can't seem to get it together enough to even post anything right now. Maybe it's in the air...I feel the same as you do. Just not feeling good right now and feel even more guilty because there is always someone out there who has it worse. The tears keep flowing and the yelling isn't any better. BUT no one said you can't or shouldn't have these feelings and by all means have them! Don't feel guilty girl! They are totally legit! Big hugs to you! Maybe these funks we are in will be gone soon! I keep hoping...

The Blatchford Family said...

As "Noah's Mom" said. I could have totally written this post...if I could even manage to get my thoughts together enough. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, even when they aren't happy and upbeat. :)

Sinead said...

My life is perfect and wonderful and fabulous in every way. Oh wait, that's just the life I imagined.

Here's the problem. When we think about miracles they are always perfect and cute and wonderful. We never think of miracles being compromises. Miracles and magic wands go together in our minds.

We learn about miracles in the bible but biblical miracles are snapshots in time. The blind can see, the lame can walk, the water is wine, the dead are risen. We don't see Lazarus a week after he was brought back to life getting on Mary and marthas nerves. We don't see the collective hangovers of the guests at the wedding feast after drinking more wine than would normally be at a wedding, we don't see if the blind man is so excited until he sees what his wife looks like for the very first time. In the moment, everything is the perfect miracle. In reality a miracle shifts the struggle and makes the goal seem nearer but the struggle must continue.

I think I might be lecturing. If it seems that way then delete this post. I know the pain you feel cause I have been there too. It's not easy. It won't be easy. There doesn't seem to be an easy button for this. And it is exhausting. You just muddle through cause there is no other choice.

Mrs. M said...

Oh my sweet interblogging friend...it's okay to feel all these emotions and you wouldn't be normal or whole if you didn't. Your heart hurts.
That's allowed. My gawd, that's more than allowed!
You have every right to your feelings and I'm so proud of you that you were able to express them here. Too often we mom's try to portray this image of total strength and optimism...which would be lovely, but just not realistic. Ya gotta feel it. Even when it hurts.
Many hugs to you...many hugs and a lovely latte with a shot of double espresso! And a side of ice cream!
Margo

blogzilly said...

I'll bring the guns and we can just shoot each other in the kneecaps. Pretty clear that you and I are in Same Wavelength Land these days. Misery, oh how that fickle beeyatch LOVES company.

You really didn't have to find words or say anything in your comment to me. You said exactly what you needed to here.

Hugs re-routed, on their way.

Anonymous said...

Transition time:-( I think reality hits you in the face when you see what the other kids are doing and find out all the wonderful things you see are not quite as wonderful when they are in a report (or verbally referenced by an educator) as seriously delayed. Seeing a lot of <1% on a report is not encouraging and doesn't make sense when I see what Ryan can do. So many kids seem to be worse off. How can his scores possibly be so low?

It's ok to be there for awhile, but I always focus on the other side of how bad it could have been to put it back into perspective. At some point, we will all get to acceptance. It's just hard to identify what we are accepting when the future is still so uncertain.

Hang it there. {{{{hugs}}}}

Erin