Sleep. I need it.

In the early morning hours, she wakes up much earlier before her alarm. Her bladder is screaming. God, she is annoyed. Day after day, this means the new puppy thinks this is wake up time. It's not. She has a ways to go before the Little Einsteins theme song blasts on the nightstand,letting her know to GET UP NOW-- there's seizure medicine to give at this ungodly hour. While you're up, go pee. Seek out dog shit odor and clean it up while muttering profanity under your breath . Chastise the dog. Wash your hands. Step in puddle of dog urine. Hiss vile words of loathing at dog. Clean it up. Wash your hands. Get a gulp of cold milk. Pee again. Lie down. Proceed to get out of bed and yell at dog for various stolen contraband (you hear Everything ), illegal chewing incidents, and also Disturbing the Peace (as there IS a noise ordinance -- Hellooo?) Fall asleep, but not more than a half hour at most (if you're lucky), bolt upright to the Little Einsteins rapping about their little rocket ship, and REPEAT.

well, hmmm, seems like you're a bully too

My two cents:

Those bullying meme I see reposted about every two days on Facebook. You know the ones-- they read something like, 'Kids these days are wusses. They need to be taught how to stick up for themselves. All this bully awareness crap and ribbons and campaigns... we are raising a generation of weak kids... Yada Yada Yada...,' you know -- THOSE.

Well, that is a broad idea, a generalized way of thinking, I have to say. What about my daughter, who sometimes can't verbalize what happens to her at school? What about my friend's daughter who is NEVER able to verbalize her school days to her mom? My other friend's son who believes with all his beautiful heart that life is just like the cartoons he loves to watch everyday? What about my son, who I have not raised to be a fighter because we don't advocate violence in our house?

When I read those memes, I am reading yet another form of bullying. Those people are calling my disabled child and my son 'sissies, ' in so many words. My disabled child who believes the world is her red carpet and glitter rains for her every where she goes. My kind-hearted little boy who says Hello to the butterflies on our walks and cries at sad scenes in movies.

So, thank you very much, I'll stand with those who aim to squash bullying. In fact, I and my fierce momma friends will lead the way.

#bullying #disability #autism #momlife #parent

people do

I made a BIG decision. It took a lot of thinking. A whole shit ton of inner dialogue to work through before I could come out on the other side. It felt like a weight had been lifted.
Then the family members who don't agree with my decision started in with the phone calls and the hateful comments on social media. There is one relative in particular who is a bully . This isn't a big surprise. I knew it would happen. I didn't prepare myself for how it would feel.
Doubt has crept up now. Did I make the right choice? I know it isn't what some of them want. I understand why. I feel though that I made the right choice for myself and the kids.
When she said, in so many words, that I don't miss my mamaw, and I never loved her, my heart broke. Mamaw was my best friend.
Mamaw is gone now.
I have a right to miss her so much it actually hurts.
I didn't do what you would have done.
But I can still feel Mamaw all around me, and she isn't reigning fire down on me.

Ryan Montbleau must know me.

Mamaw is everywhere

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10208438450662179&id=1333812698

Dolls, boys, and a momma who Believes in her kids

Noah has been wanting his own "boy" doll since he was 5 years old. I feel bad it has taken me 3 years to find him one. To actually follow through. But. Hey! I did it. Although my options were next to NONE.

Either I order an 18 inch girl doll and cut her hair and get her some new clothes. .. or... or what? It took me some serious searching to find a website that makes 18 inch boy dolls. I thought it was kind of neat that the dolls are created to help others better understand disabilities. How fitting, you know, in our family? I was a bit disappointed though. They are not as cute as I had hoped. There were not a lot of skin/eye/hair combinations to choose from. I did decide on one with blonde hair and blue eyes though. Yes, I could have MADE him a doll by altering a used American Girl doll or Madame Alexander doll, but I REALLY want him to receive his special doll all in its packaging, in a cardboard and plastic windowed box. Like the gazillion dolls that Emma has received. There is something about unwrapping a new doll and admiring it through the box, then tearing the box open to free your new friend!

Some *assholes* might think or say, "Why the hell would you want your boy to play with a doll?"

Because he always has. Now, this Christmas, he can have one of his own. Not just another stuffed animal or rag doll, but a doll like his sister's! And it will look like him! A little buddy he can cart around to build Lego houses with, to sit next to him while he fights off Creepers in the endless game of Minecraft, a pal to tuck in at night and read to.

Yeah, I got his new doll a bunk bed too and some cute sheets. :-)

I can't wait for Christmas ;-)

all the boxes stored in her head

Music. I CONSTANTLY have song lyrics in my head. Songs are my heartbeat, the center of my soul. I blurt out lyrics in response to what a person is saying to me, if their words strike a chord, if you will, with some song I have stored away in that wacky file box in my mind. Envision it if you would-- the hallways in my head are pristine. Your heels click, click, click on the tile. Aren't you wearing heels? Shit. Well, you are. I say you are. After all, you're in my head. The lights are fluorescent. There are so many doors though. You can hear a child's laughter behind one. A grown woman sobbing behind another. You dare to open a different door. It's a bit dark in here, so you flip the switch. Stacks and stacks of file boxes. A few boxes look as if they'll topple at any moment.You open the box closest to you, and you are amazed. What you thought would be yellowed papers, the corners curling, receipts?, a life's worth of insurance documents?, isn't paper at all. Music, so much music. You look closer at the label on the side of the box:late 80s it reads. My goodness! She's stored every single song, commercial jingle, television show theme, that she's ever heard. Impressive, isn't it?