Distraction.

I've been struggling so hard the past month and a half. Trying to distract myself with every little thing. Working out, reading, putting on my happy face online and with everyone I speak to. As the weeks have passed, it's becoming harder and harder to distract myself. Just sitting and watching television isn't enough if I have to sit through commercials. Sitting online isn't enough when I take a moment here or there to think. Reading and working out, provides a steady stream of distraction. But I'm flying through books too fast to keep it up. With this depression I have no desire, whatsoever, to leave the house, so exercise isn't quite doing it's job. And the pure laziness I feel when I get like this is keeping me from doing anything much at home.

I have no desire whatsoever to do anything besides the bare minimum. I don't want to leave my bed at all. Yet staying in it is even worse. So I make myself get up before the hubs and go sleep on the couch. It's the only way I've been able to get up and take care of the kids in the morning. The mornings, I stay in bed until they wake I fight the most intense battle. My mind tells me to stay there. Don't worry about anything, just grieve and cry and sleep. My heart reminds me I have three precious children I need to take care of. My heart tells me she wouldn't want me wasting time reliving the past, feeling guilty, feeling angry, feeling that low.

I know things would be easier if I just made myself do things. If I just made myself do the mundane household tasks, play with the children, work with the children, leave the house, things would be easier..

Lovely. Just lovely. As I sit here typing what is so hard for me to get out, so hard to explain, while I fight to get the words out, the song comes on. Her song. Stopped my trying, dead in it's track, mid-word. "Every little thing's gonna be alright."

You see, New Years Eve 2007, just 3 hours before 2008 would begin, I got a call. Nana had a heart attack. We were having a party at our apartment. Since I was just 18 days away from my due date with Collin, I had the only other sober person there come with me to the hospital. On the way there Bob Marley's Three Little Birds came on the radio. I thought nothing of it at the time. Nothing at all. Just a couple days later she had another heart attack. Again, the song came on. Again, it didn't phase me. I hadn't even noticed that I heard it the night of her first one. On January 19th, two days after my sweet Collin was born, I got a call while I was still in the hospital, "Nana's in surgery, her entire colon is being removed, C-dif, not sure if she can pull through with her heart still healing from the bypass." Just a few pieces I remember from the conversation... I called my doctor to rush the   discharge. I needed to get to the other hospital. When I climbed into the car, with my brand new baby boy and my husband, he was turning the radio dial and stopped on the same song. "This is my message to you-ou-ou, saying, don't worry, 'bout a thing"

I was too worried to think much about it still, but it did calm me down enough to stop crying. I never made it to the hospital that day. The song came on a couple more times during my visits to her. On her birthday, February 9th, we left our 3 week old son with a sitter, for the first time. With the c-dif and being in ICU, my boys weren't able to come. Tom and I parked pretty far from the hospital. Just as we were about to get out of the car, it came on. I immediately cried. We were being tossed around with the doctors words. Every other day it seemed we were being told she was strong. Was going to pull through. Every other opposite day we were told she was weaker, and wouldn't. After listening to the song, and crying my eyes out I had the most intense sense of calm. We walked the 8 blocks to the  hospital in silence. That night we were told she would be in the ICU for a couple weeks at most, then moved to a different floor, then moved to a rehabilitation facility, then could come home if she had help. Two days later my entire family made the decision to pull the plug. She was bleeding internally, the pneumonia caused her lungs to be 80% filled with fluid. Her kidneys were failing. All of the machines were living for her. She was in and out of it. While she was "there" she would shake her head no to every question, never opening her eyes. The 11th was such a long day. We had all, except my husband who stayed with my boys, been there with her. The hospital staff didn't dare speak against us for breaking the two visitors at a time rule. Finally a little after two pm it was time. The plug was pulled. We all crowded around her bed. Crying and watching. Struggling to catch her breath.. Finally a very, very close family friend, scratch that, a member of our family, went to her. "It's okay Betty-Girl. Go see Frenchie." She said a few more words, and we all cried more intensely. She looked around the room. Into the eyes of most, if not all of us. And that was it. None of us wanted to leave. I tried so hard that day to remain strong. So strong for my mother. I couldn't, absolutely could not let her see me upset. Finally, after hours I left. As soon as I started my car, it came on again. I laughed. What kind of cruel joke is this? Every thing is not going to be okay. It will never be okay.

The day of her funeral, I was in a daze. I couldn't cry. Nana wouldn't want us to cry over her. She'd much rather us gossip, and be nosy. To laugh at our memories of her. And I did. Well, when we weren't in the car anyway. When leaving the funeral home to head to the church, Bob Marley played on one of the radio stations. When leaving the church for the cemetery, again. When leaving the cemetery, again.

She was never told she had her own special song.

It's been almost three years since her death, and this year has been the worst since it actually happened. Maybe it's because my mind is clearer now than it was the last two years. I don't know. I just know I'm really struggling. This battle is continuing deep in my soul. Half wanting me to give up. To do anything to soothe the pain, even if it causes more in the long run. The other side keeping me from diving into the deep end again. Fighting to keep me strong. Fighting to keep me here for my family. For myself. Fighting to keep me safe from myself. Fortunately, I know that side will win. It's only lost one battle and has gotten strong over the past couple of years. But it doesn't make it any easier to know that I will get through this. It doesn't make it any easier to know things will get better once I start doing things again. Once I start seeing some sun.

All I have to do is remind myself one small thing: "Every little thing, is gonna be alright."

I guess this post turned into a completely different one from what I intended, 

all because this one little song started on the television behind me.

I saw this video for the very first time after arriving home from the funeral. 

This take on the song perfectly shows my view on the song. 

GoodBye 2010

I know I'm a day early and all, but based if my recent blogging habits say anything, it's that I have tons of idea's but haven't been posting. So while it's on my mind, let me write it down.

2010 was a very strange year all and all. We were newly living in a new, tiny apartment. Had a 3 month old baby girl. Dealt with a lay off already lasting way too long. Hubby went back to work. I quit my job. Stayed asleep more than awake for the first four and a half months of the year. Collin started speech therapy. Thomas "graduated" preschool. Bailey learned to crawl. Hubby got laid off again. Thomas started kindergarten. Bailey learned to walk. Hubby went back to work. And Collin only has one speech session left. And we had the very best Christmas ever.

Here are my personal top 10 blog posts from the year:
(All Clickable, links are showing like text....

1. Continuing the Fight
2. While She Eats
3. My Babies
4. Nursing in Public: Women's right or bad taste?
5. Mommy Why? -A Way Back When-sday Post
6. Behind Blue Eyes
7. A Letter From Bailey
8. Sweet Dreams, My loves.
9. Five
10. Us Parents Need To Hug Our Children

This year I have seen my daughter change from a tiny little blob, to an amazing little girl. I've seen my youngest son go from an intelligent little boy who could not express himself with words, to a little boy who always has something to say. I've watched my oldest child go from being pure and innocent to asking questions I'm not quite ready to answer. I've seen my husband suffer and struggle, wanting to just be able to provide his family with the best or to run away in fear of coming up short. My family of 5 is forever changing, growing, and loving. In the beginning of the year I struggled just trying to care for my three children, wondering how I could ever manage. Now, I can't imagine it being any other way.

Please take a moment to reflect on the past year, remember the good, the bad, the love, and the fun. Remember it all. Do all you can to make 2011 the best you can. And remember, to check our my other blog during the new year, where I will try to do a 365 photo project.

And now, I will leave you with my favorite photo's from 2010..

click to enlarge

 

 

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14 months.

Happy 14 monthday to my sweet Bailey-boo. 

Bailey you still seem so much more like a baby to me, than a toddler. Maybe it's just mommy's way of keeping a baby around. Mommy is feeling so bittersweet of you getting older. Though I look forward to see each new milestone reached, and seeing you grow into a beautiful little girl, I am not ready. You are at such a fun age. You are walking and so much more independent, yet still need your mommy. You still look like a baby, and sound like a baby. You can play on your own, with your brothers, or with Mommy and Daddy. But you still love to have us hold you and comfort you. Maybe, the fact that you are still nursing is what makes me still look at you like an itty bitty baby.. Who knows.. Bailey, you are such a fun little girl to watch. The way you fight so hard to do whatever you want and get whatever you want. The way your lip quivers and eyes tear up when you can't do or get whatever it is you are wanting. The way you will sit and listen to stories so with such concentration. The way you play so contently with your brothers cars and action figured. The way you clap and get so excited when you see food, a cup, or Mommy's breasts. The way you say "hi", "bye", "boo"(b), here you go. The way you smile and babble when you get ahold of a phone. All of these things and more, Bailey, I love them. I love everything about you. As much as I want you to stay this little forever, I know you I will truly enjoy watching you grow and become a beautiful, intelligent, kind young lady.

I love you sweet baby girl.

Thirteen Months

Yesterday marked the thirteenth month she has been apart of our whole family.

Thirteen months ago, I fell so deeply in love with my sweet Bailey.

Thirteen months ago, I had no clue what she'd be like at this age.

Thirteen months ago, I had no clue how much I'd change.

Thirteen months ago, I looked into her eyes for the very time. 

Thirteen months ago, she was really mine.

Mine to nurture. 

Mine to care for.

Mine to hold.

Mine to live for.

All mine. 

For the past 13 months, Bailey has done nothing but light up my life. 

She is one of the 3 reasons I wake each day. She is my reason for not screwing up my life again.

She is one of the greatest reasons I have stayed clean the past 25.5 months. 

She is the only girl who holds my heart. 

She is my heart and soul.

My baby girl.

She is my Daughter.

Dear Thomas,

Just over 7 weeks ago you began full day kindergarten. Mommy was dreading this. How can I be apart from you so long every day, every week, every month from September until June? At 180 days in a school year, that is 1080 hours, give or take, away from you. At first it was hard on Mommy. Constantly worried about how you were doing. Was the work to hard? Did you eat your lunch? Did you get to the bathroom okay? Were you alright getting off and on the bus? Are the teachers treating you with respect? Are the other children kind to you?  Have you found your voice amongst others? Are you speaking up when you need help or having a question? Are you having fun? Do you miss me? Do you even think about me while in school? For the 1st couple of weeks I actually counted down the hours and minutes until I had to be at the bus stop.

Seven plus weeks later, while I do still have most of my worries, I am finally okay with you being gone so much. Your little brother behaves so much better when you are not home and you are so much less whiny. That is not the reason I am okay with it though. You are learning so much without the distractions of your siblings getting in the way. I have been told by your wonderful teachers that you are the one child in your class always striving to do your best with every assignment. Though you are usually the last one to finish your work, it is not due to goofing around. You want to make sure everything is correct. Mommy is very proud of you sweet boy. Though we both get frustrated on homework days, I do understand you are tired. You worked very, very hard all day and just want to be a kid and play when you get home. We will work on something to make homework time less stressful. For both of us.

Thomas, this is the beginning of a long haul for you. I can't promise it won't be hard. I can't promise you will always have fun and enjoy it. Just please remember, as long as you follow your school's motto until the day you graduate things will be the best as they can be.

Remember Thomas:

Be Kind.

Be Courteous.

Always Do Your Best.

And Always Ask For Help.

These words you are reciting every morning are an excellent reminder to all, including me. Remember if you need to ask, talk to, or tell me anything at all, school related or not, I am here for you. I want you to always be kind and courteous. I want you to always do your best, not to be confused with the best. And please Thomas, always ask for help. 

You have always been so smart and your intelligence is just shining through this school year. Mommy and Daddy are so, so very proud of you and love you more than you will every know. Thomas, you are our light. Our life. Our everything and more. Your siblings and yourself are what matters most to us. You are taking in everything you see, even more so than your younger brother and sister, and because of that Daddy and Mommy are striving to follow those four quotes as well. And if we do fall off, do not hesitate to remind us these wonderful words. 

Thomas, I hope the rest of the year goes smoothly for you, and I look forward with great excitement to see you grow and learn. The next big milestone you will reach is reading and I look forward with awe at the prospect of you reading us bedtime stories. 

Again sunshine, Mommy loves you so very much. Have fun in school and don't work too hard, but always do your best. 

Kisses and Hugs;

Mommy.

The Hurt Is Still There

Guilt

With my daughter's birthday soon approaching, guilt has begun to overcome me. October 3th, 2006 is not a day I will soon forget. It still haunts me. I still miss my baby I never got to hold.

When struggling with figuring out my due date early on in my last pregnancy, I only had one thought: Do not let it be on CBM's day. Do not let it be October 3rd. Of course it did end up being October 3rd; because, well that's my luck.

Being on Methadone, I let the date slip my mind. I would still be a day to remember CBM because Bailey was going to come before her due date. Most methadone babies come early. Then September 30th came. And I knew, Bailey's soon to be birthday would forever be bitter sweet. Mourning one child while celebrating another.

Bailey came just 3 hours and 9 minutes before her due date. I was convinced that night I was not going to remember my angel the next day.

Yet, I did remember. And I cherished my newborn baby girl so much more. I held her tight and cried. For my child who I never got to hold, and for her. I was so grateful just to have her with me.

It has been not quite 4 years since that dreadful day and it still saddens me just as much as it did then. Yet, it does so much more now. I no longer just weep and mourn for my child, as I had done the first two years. I now take my thoughts of my precious Angel, and focus my attention on the children who are here with me. I will do right by them, in honor of CBM. I will cherish my three Angel's who are here with me day by day. I will remember to not take them for granted. I will do my best to provide them with as much love as I can muster. And when there is a difficult day, I will try to remember my short time carrying CBM and focus my energies on Thomas, Collin, and Bailey. I owe it to CBM.

I may not have known your gender,

I may not have felt your touch.

But I will always remember. 

I will always love you, so very much.

Begins Again

I slowly see it returning, like a fog blanketing the city. Only instead, its a fog blanketing me. Just a few weeks ago things were really good. Simple things, like actually getting out of bed with a smile on my face or actually not minding picking up around the house. Spending most of the actually playing with my children and teaching them new things. I had no problem keeping my eyes open all day, something I had not been able to do for so long. Play dates 1-3 times a week. Visits to my moms just because and actually enjoying her company. My body wasn't sore. I felt good. I felt content with life. I felt content with myself for the most part. Were things 100% perfect? Of course not. Were there things needing improvement? Of course.

Now, this fog that once reduced my visibility to nothingness is returning again. Since the layoff I have been struggling to get up each morning. I have been nodding like a junkie every time I sit on the couch. Other than leaving the house with my husband for two hours on Tuesday, I have no left the house all week except for the few times I had no choice. Other than homework time after Thomas gets home, I have not really spent any time with the kids. Regarding household cleaning, I am only doing the bare minimum so the anxiety with the mess stays at bay. Through out the day I just want to sit on my ass. Even moving to change a diaper or make breakfast or lunch takes maximum effort. I'm avoiding phone calls again, instant messages, and emails.

I hate this. I hate feeling this way. I hate not having any control whatsoever over anything. Part of me feels like if I can't make anything work to help the family, outside the house, why do anything inside? I feel like I need to be doing more. The one thing I can do, my husband is fighting tooth and nail against it. Yes, he is right, I do not have a sitter to care for my kids if I work and he has side work. Yes we will argue like lunatics if I come home and everything isn't up to my standards. I know he means well and all, but this is my children's life. They can't live with out lights. They can't live with out food in the house. And what if there is an emergency at Thomas' school? We need a working phone. And with out the internet, which yes it is a luxury we all take for granted, with out the internet Mommy is not someone they want to be around. The internet is my only way to rid myself of stress. Without the phone and internet, I'd have no connection to the outside world from home.

Right now, I just want to be left alone. At the same time, I just want to do the best I can for my children.

Source

Long Lasting Impact

Who knew the death of my grandmother, Nana, would have such a long lasting ill effect on me?

Things had already had been spiraling down hill when she had past. When the family "pulled the plug" it was for the better, for her, but it still was upsetting. I was angry, bitter, and hurt. How can she die without meeting her newest great-grandchild? Her death was icing on the cake of shit that was already getting worse with each passing day. Troubled marriage, a lay-off and lack of incoming money, postpartum depression, individuals in my life I couldn't quite trust but my husband refusing to understand why, things sucked royally when she passed. All of this was just the right combination to help me lose my mind, sending me into a psychotic break. Leading to suicide attempts and a heroin addiction.

Growing up, she was always the one that was there. Parents fighting all the time when I was three? Head on downstairs and there she'd be. Need to get away from my parents alcoholic and drug using tendencies? And she'd always let me come stay with her. She was always the one to make everything better. Always. Then she left me. She left me at the lowest point of my life.

Maybe if her passing was expected? Maybe if she didn't go from being perfectly fine to death in a matter of weeks? Maybe things would be different.

Since her passing, I have changed. I am no longer the happy, always smiling, always laughing person I once was.  Since her passing depression has taken over my life. I finally thought I was moving on, finally returning to the "old me." Then one little thing goes wrong and I am back to that dark place almost instantly, filled with thoughts of hurting myself or others. Filled with thoughts of finding the easiest way out. Filled with such darkness, it's almost impossible to see the light.

I was never this person before her passing.

Since her passing I have learned to appear to be the same person on the outside. I have learned how to act and behave so friends and family believe everything is happiness and roses. On the inside? It's complete turmoil. I no longer can handle the little things life throws at me and my family. Before her passing, my husband getting laid-off didn't really phase me. Yes I'd stress, but it didn't control my every thought.

Currently things are pretty rough around here. Worse than they were back then, financially. In fact, next week our cable, internet, and phone, followed by electricity will be getting shut off unless there is a miracle. My husband will only say, "Don't worry" to me. He flat out refuses to look for a non-drywall job. His reasoning is, he will just have to quit when better work comes up. And that, if he comes across a side-job, he'd make more than working somewhere for minimum wage. Why don't I go get a job, you ask? His same reasonings. "I make more in one day than you would in a week." Um dude, how is that possible when you aren't even working? His other reason is that if I work days, I'd have to quit the minute he is called back to work and if I work nights it would not be good for our marriage. And this last part is true. I can't even leave for an hour without things being turned into absolute chaos around here. My husband is not very good at multitasking when it comes to caring for the children, cooking dinner, running baths, bedtimes, and cleaning up the evening messes. In fact, he can't do it.

When I was working nights, I'd come home to a complete disaster to find the children didn't get a bath, dinner wasn't until 8-9 pm, and they fell asleep whenever. All three still in the clothes I had them in when I left. Which used to lead to me coming in screaming, throwing things, and slamming fists and a face into the walls. So, is me working worth the stress it would lead to?

I often wonder, had my grandmother not passed away, would I handle life stresses differently?
I am so sick of thinking about her death and all else that happened in 2008, ruined me.
I need to realize it's not her fault. I mean how could it be? It's not like she died to ruin my being and take away the light?

Who knew the death of my Nana, would have such a long lasting ill effect on me?

This post is written based on the writing prompt, "Describe a tragedy you didn’t expect to be as deeply affect by as you are." over at Mama Kat's.

The Struggle

Worse than ever, barely afloat.

It lasted much too long.

Now thoughts are creeping back again.

It's the same old song.

Thoughts are closing in again.

Sanity is slowly losing the race.

"Money can't by happiness"

Yet, we're stuck in last place.

Trying to provide,

And act if nothings wrong.

Eyes are watching closely.

How can one stay strong?

How I love thee, Katie B.

Ten years ago last month I messed around with a boy who was 'taken'. His girlfriend and I ended up hating each other. We lived in different towns, but her mother was my middle school bus driver. She was 7 months older and  starting high school. Some how we ended up the best of friends.

Neither one of us can figure out how we went from enemies to friends to besties.
All I can remember is my sister being her friend and being stuck in the middle. Some how, it led to her and I being closer and my sister backing off.

Before we knew it we were spending every weekend together.

Weekends at her house, playing The Sims from the time I arrived, until early the next morning. Going to sleep, and playing all Saturday. Staying up until the wee hours of Sunday and me leaving when we got up. Unfortunately the family computer was in a room with a hole in the floor. I fell through it. Well my leg did. I screamed, her and her family rushed into the bathroom. There was my leg hanging through the ceiling. The ceiling her father just repaired. We made matching AOL screen names. "Fell through her floor" and "Fell through my floor".

Her "eww" face.

We spent hours in AOL chat rooms. I swear 'hehehe' and 'eww' were the two most used 'words'. At least we weren't dumb enough like my sister to actually meet and date a guy off of those chat rooms!

Club Earth was our Friday night hang out. It was a club for the high school crowd. I managed to get in although I was still the eighth grade. Dancing with Mexicans, on bars, always going to the bathroom together. Accidentally drinking drugged drinks and my father driving us to my house. My mom wanting to rush her to the emergency room. Her throwing up in my bedroom trash can and me cleaning up her and her mess. Eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch the following morning.

Periodically, we'd head to the movie theater. Never with the intention of seeing a movie. Of course when security decided to toughen up we didn't leave like asked. We went to see movies like "Miss Congeniality" which we never heard of instead. Unfortunately the town the theater we would go to had the most snobbish girls. There was an incident with one of them. I stepped on a girls shoe, or had my shoe stepped on, who remembers the little details anyway. The other person, who was stepped on or did the stepping.., got extremely upset, asking me what my problems was. Being very afraid of conflict, just apologized, but it was not enough. My bestie told this girl to just get over it. It was an accident, in a large crowd. Some how or another, my sister, bestie, and I all got separated in the crowd. And I ended up in the arcade. The girl pushed me, I pushed back, we rolled around on the floor, she pulled hair, I got one punch in, we were separated. When the bestie found me and asked where I went and what happened, all I could say was, "That bitch messed up my hair." She still apologizes to this day for not being there to "kick her ass" for me.

Sometime after my 14th birthday we stopped speaking for the 1st time. I had my "old" bestie back and didn't need her. I had my real partner in crime back. I ended up in juvi. When I got out, she was there to tell me I was an idiot. Had I been hanging out with her I wouldn't have ended up there. It was the 1st of many times she told me to stay away from this girl. It wasn't my 1st time getting into serious trouble with her.

When my husband, then boyfriend, got out of prison that May, she was the only one who didn't call me stupid. She was the only one who got along with him. Just one day after his release we went on a mini adventure looking for some castle we never found. She is still one of the very few people in my life who gets along with the hubs. (And they share birthdays!)

In the girls bathroom where we always
ran into each other between class
To the left are the stalls where we
would sneak a few drags off a marb red.

That August I learned we'd be moving to her town. I was beyond thrilled. I'd have my sister and bestie in the same school! I've never been in the same school with either one of them and I was ecstatic!

She repaid me for not being there that night in the movies. She always had my back when people talked shit.

My sophomore year (her junior) we ended up in the same math class. Boy was that fun! She still has the note book containing our "arrow wars" and trash talking (each other) and random notes. It still has the "Nicole loves Tom"s and the "Katie loves Dave"s. Who would have thought we'd still be with them today?

A Katie B. Original.

The best is when I talked her into making a cake for the last day before Christmas break. And she did!

"She ate the whole cake!"

The best was taking a picture that actually made her look pregnant! (And her laughing instead of being insulted.)

The hubs, me, and my biffle on my 16th birthday.

She was always a better friend. Came to each of my birthday parties, while I never showed for hers.

She brought me balloons and cupcakes in school to celebrate my 16th.

When she got her braces taken off, I got mine put on. 

When I got my eyebrow pierced and the piercer used to large of a ring and it became swollen and infected, she was honest with me that it looked like shit.

She has always been brutally honest.

When I tried to lighten my hair and ended up looking like an effing ray of sunshine she told me just that. I did look like an effing ray of sunshine! And I did rock that shit. So well at least 3 girls in the same lunch as me ended up with the same hair color by the end of the school week. 

She thought they looked worse.

My junior year we had no classes, no lunch, no nothing together. I was spending a lot of time with the hubs boyfriend. And she spent a lot of time with hers. I dropped out, moved out, and was partying and working day and night. We only hung out a few times, and spoke by phone a handful of times.

Class of '04.

When we did get together, it was like we were never apart. Sitting at the dinner table in the hubs and my studio apartment, coloring. Going for random drives with my hubs boyfriend, pushing a 1986 television out of his blue van (with the bed in the back). Running over mail boxes. Attempting to run over mail boxes. And stalling. Screaming obscenities in the middle of the 'hood in the middle of the night. Her and her boyfriend rushing to my rescue when fighting with my hubs boyfriend
Without meaning to, we stopped speaking.
Though we weren't speaking she still made sure to give me her senior photo.

Between the time I dropped out and she graduated, we only spoke by phone about a dozen times. She was now living with her boyfriend and his daughter. We were no longer "school" friends. Out of no where she came by. Once. Being the loving friend she was, she wanted to know everything she had missed in my life. I showed her with pictures.

In April of '04 she had called and asked if I knew anyone wanting a kitten. I turned into a giddy little school girl and begged the hubs boyfriend if we could have a kitten. She gave us our Booger, an orange and white kitty who was the sweetest. 

Again, we barely spoke. Just a random phone call every few months. With each call it was as if we never stopped speaking. In 2005 I got married and became pregnant. She didn't believe me. We had been like the boy who cried wolf for years. Only we were the girls who cried "pregnant". We thought we were pregnant every month back in high school. Every. Month. I swear, I don't think she really believed it to be true until my baby shower. 

I wish more than anything I could go back to before my wedding and we could be close in that time. I regret more than anything not making her my maid of honor. She forgave me and came to my wedding, along with her boyfriend, mother and father. Though out my wedding she was there to whisk me outside when I needed a breather. To offer me a few sips of wine even though I was pregnant, just so I could calm down. She danced with me and slammed wedding cake into my face. I still think it was mean. She (and the guests) thought it was hysterical. 

When she became pregnant right after my son was born, I was beyond thrilled. When her daughter was born I couldn't wait to introduce her to my son. As soon as I got the okay, I took him to meet her. After seen all the pinkness, I knew I wanted a baby girl. Something I never wanted before. She laughed. And when I let my 9.5 month old son hold her newborn on the couch, and he almost dropped her, I freaked out instead of her.

Unfortunately, us both being mothers still did not bring back that speaking every day closeness we both missed. We both worked. We both were in committed relationships. We were both just to busy with life. And with that, we still referred to each other as best friends. 

She was the 1st to learn I was expected my 2nd son. Soon after I avoided her like the plague. I couldn't let her know what was going on with me. I couldn't let anyone know I was hanging out with that "bad influence" again. I definitely could not let anyone, especially her know I was going crazy. I couldn't let her know I had been admitted to the nut house, or that I became a heroin addict. At some point during the end of my 5 months of active using, she ran into my father. Who still called her his "other daughter" and he told her everything. It turned out we were living right around the corner from each other. She began calling. She was worried. She said she told me so. She told me to stay away from "that girl" once again. 

The month after I got clean, she became pregnant with 2nd child. 3 months after that, I became pregnant with my 3rd. Soon we were talking daily again. We had pregnant play dates. We laughed at my husband taking 6 hours to make burgers and dogs. We went to each other every time we felt something "weird" with our pregnancies, or when their was a concern at an appointment. Though we lived in the same neighborhood, we still barely saw each other. 

It wasn't until I moved out of the neighborhood that actually seeing each other again really began again. 

Now, we try together at the very least every other week. She is the only one I can completely trust with my 3 children, even while she has her two. She treats my children as if they were her own. She is one of the very few my daughter will go to, willingly. 

We talk daily. Most days on and off all day long. She is the only one allowed to call my house for no reason after 8 pm. She listens to me complain about being a wife and mother and doesn't think I'm a bad person. Because she relates. She knows as much as I can be a pessimist, I wouldn't change a thing. 

When I cried my eyes out to her about my children not having any summer clothes and not having the money to get them anything, she came over with a bag full of gorgeous outfits.

When she asked me to photograph her children's birthday parties, I immediately did.

And most recently, when her sweet daughter fell at the park, putting her teeth through her lip, during on of our play dates, and needed to be rushed to the emergency room, I was there. My three children, her two plus her niece, and our high school friend and her little brother, and I were all there. When her mother came and she told me I didn't need to stay, I did. When she was scared and queasy and her daughter was scared, I was there. Just like she is always there for me.


Always. Even when we were barely speaking, if one of us called and needed a shoulder to cry on, an ear to bitch in, or a heart to care, we are always there. For each other. Always.

Through the hard times and fun times,

The sad times and happy times, 

You are always there.

When I need someone 

to show they care,

You are always there.

When I am feeling silly,

and need someone to laugh,

You are always there.

When my home 

isn't as happy as I'd like,

You are always there.

When my feelings seem

to get the best of me,

You are always there.

When I am down

and feeling blue,

You are always there.

Thank you my sweet,

For always being there.

Five.

5 years ago. 

5 years ago I counted 5 little fingers on a little hand, followed by 5 more. 

5 years ago I counted 5 little toes on a teeny foot, followed by 5 more.

5 years ago I went from being just your average 18 year old kid, to being a mom.

5 years ago, Tom and I went from being boyfriend and girlfriend to husband and wife to mommy and daddy.

5 years ago we became a family.

One of our only family photos. Thomas is our only child with one.

5 years ago, I was in the most pain I had ever experienced. 

5 years ago that same pain was the most pleasurable experience of my life.

5 years ago my sweet baby boy was born.

4.5 minutes old.

5 years ago this weird little blob was laid upon my chest and the most intense love and happiness washed over me.

5 years ago I found this weird little blob to be the most intense, beautiful person I had ever seen.

5 years ago, while he laid upon my chest, my life had purpose for the very 1st time.

Only photo of us together alone in the hospital.

5 years ago I had so many expectations.

5 years ago I just knew what kind of mom I'd be. 

5 years ago, I had so many plans.

1st Feed.

5 years ago, I planned on nursing for one year.

5 years ago, I swore I'd never co-sleep.

5 years ago, I planned on doing everything just right.

5 years ago my goal was to give this little guy nothing short of the very best.

5 years ago, I saw a little boy with his mother's eyes.

5 years ago, I saw a little boy with his daddy's long fingers and toes.

5 years ago, I saw a little boy with his Nana's hair line.

5 years ago, I had no idea what his sweetness would be like at one month.

5 years old wasn't even on the radar.

5 years ago, he was nothing less of perfection. 

5 years ago, we were able to celebrate our 1st holidays as a family.

5 years ago, we had the cutest pumpkin in the patch.

5 years ago, we noticed the beauty of Autumn for the 1st time.

5 years ago, we already had the greatest gift one could ever receive.

5 years ago, he was all mine.

5 years ago, I didn't have to share him with the school system, friends, or family.

5 years ago, I didn't need a reason to keep him to myself.

5 years ago, the only person I willingly shared him with was his daddy.

5 years ago....

Since 5 years ago, has grown quite a bit.

He grew a ton in just the 1st year.

By his 2nd birthday, he was no longer "the baby". 

He was now a full-fledged toddler.

By the time his 3rd birthday rolled around he was no longer our "one and only".

He took on the role of "big brother" as well. 

A role he took on very well.

When his 4th birthday came, he was expecting another sibling.

A little sister. 

And he was beyond excited he would be big enough to help this time. 

Just a couple days after his 4th birthday he also started preschool, which he loved. 

"4" was a big year for Thomas, he went from being just a little boy, to being a preschooler. 

Now, my sweet 1st born baby is 5.

He is now a kindergarten student.

He has two younger siblings who look up to him.

He is the most compassionate little boy I have ever met. 

He hates to see people in pain or upset.

He will always offer a hug.

He is so smart and has an intense love of learning.

Both of which will do him well in kindergarten.

5 years have gone by, and my love for this boy has grown deeper and stronger with each passing moment.

5 years and I thoroughly miss him when he isn't in my presence.

5 years and I still catch myself watching him sleep.

5 years and I still check in on him in the middle of the night. 

Every night.

5 years together, and looking forward to the rest of my lifetime with him.

5 years.