Friday, March 28, 2014

My Email Inbox Can Suck It, In More Ways Than One

There in my email inbox along with 458 other messages which I need and want to respond to but never can find the time and you have NO IDEA how much this bothers me sits one unopened message which I have just received. I see the subject, assume it was sent to me by mistake, and I almost click delete with haste. Just as I'm about to make my inbox one message lighter, my eyes narrow, I lean in closer, click on the message, read it thoroughly this time & finally, it hits me. The words sting. My eyes well up with tears. Images, scenarios and little movies play out in my head of things I don't want to see... but yet I do... NO... I can't. It hurts too much. I want to go there -- just for a second -- but when I do, it takes everything in me to not double over into the fetal position and cry that ugly cry that ends with heaving and red, puffy eyes and a migraine and a shit ton of regret but in the end feels so. worth. it. because if I hold these emotions in for too long, I might just fucking explode.

The email message subject:  2014-15 7th Grade Orientation

My "subject":  

  • Sweet, tiny Claire
  • Age 12.5 years old
  • Developmental level according to asshole neurologists: Newborn
  • Zodiac Sign: Leo
  • 34" tall
  • 23.5 pounds 
  • Technically a 6th grader this year
  • Never attended school one single day in her life
  • "Homebound"
  • Founding member of WSD gang (AKA West Side Dwarves)
  • Resident badass

My girl could have started middle school next year. We could have picked out a backpack & got a locker caddy and mirror & that first day of school outfit & planned how we'd fix her hair & prepared for boyfriends & puberty & school dances & middle school drama & sports & pressures. We could have had just Lola at home during the days and let her be an "only child" for a time. We could have seen our daughter interacting with friends, teachers, & maybe coaches. We could have heard others talk about her personality, spunk, long, skinny legs & dimples. We could have seen if she was the typical middle child or a rebel like her mama. It is so hard for me to think of these things, yet I do. Not often, because that is not who Claire is. But I would be lying if I told you that I don't wonder about how she'd be...

When Claire was around 3-4 years old, I remember going to an art show in Arizona & watching hundreds of thousands of people walk past our booth over the course of three days. At one point, I remember asking Scott this very question: "What did you think Claire would be like before she was born -- before we knew she had special needs?" He said he had an idea in his mind, and I agreed that I did as well. At one point, later in the weekend, he yelled out to me, "Gwen, see that little girl over there? She is EXACTLY what I thought Claire would be like before I knew her..."  There stood this petite, blonde-haired girl who was smiling, sweet, & active. She was dressed so cute with her high ponytail, bouncing around, completely happy to be at the art show, finding joy in every little thing around her. I watched her interact with her family & it was obvious that everyone around her felt and fed off her energy. She was pretty & perfect. I remember wishing for a split second that I could experience what being her mother felt like. Shortly thereafter, I faked a bathroom break & lost it in a dirty Porta-Potty. I never told Scott. 

Fast forward to now & this email & these feelings & the "what ifs" & this MF PMS. Here I sit reliving those early feelings of sadness & the loss of the dream & seeing other kids Claire's age who would be her classmates if she were typical & how much fun I have talking to these girls & wondering what *MY DAUGHTER* might have been like had she not had special needs & WHY am I going there now? WHY can one simple email combined with hormones & probably the stars fucking aligning just right reduce me to tears so quickly? Why couldn't I just read it & click delete anyway, knowing it didn't apply to us?  I don't know. Maybe because it feels so BIG to me. Maybe because I see other 12 year olds & remember that even though it feels like I'm living in a time warp & Claire is still 5 and Lola's a newborn, that in essence, I am the mom of a 15, 12 & 7 year old. Maybe the fact that time IS passing scares me. Maybe aging and things changing is what I'm wrestling with. Maybe I feel we're testing fate. Or maybe I broke down because I've been trying to be strong for too long. 

Suffice it to say that after I had a good cry, I deleted that mofo. Then I swooped up my middle-schooler-to-be-who-will-never-attend-middle-high-or-any-other-fucking-school-for-that-matter and gave her a huge hug, a kiss, cried a little more, and I told her that she was, without question, the best damn thing to ever happen to me.

Because she SO IS.


Monday, March 10, 2014


I think you all probably know by now that when I'm absent around these parts for long periods of time that most likely the reasoning behind it involves LOLA + SHIT + A FAN.  I hate hate HATE saying that "out loud" because I'm a firm believer that whatever I release to the universe through my thoughts and words ALLOWS it to happen... you know, that whole "Our lives are what our thoughts create" adage? Yep. And I don't want to imply that all our problems stem from Lola & all her "issues."  Nor do I want you to think that me bitching about all that is "wrong" means I'm not soooooo grateful that I was literally entrusted with living angels on earth because they are my WORLD, along with Scott & Cal.  I LOVE MY LIFE!!!  I hope & pray you all know that my family is my EVERYTHING & that is quite possibly the biggest understatement I've EVER made.

But it's been hard.  And trying.  And emotionally difficult.  And physically draining.  And the reason it's been hard is because sleep deprivation is a dirty little whore. I am weary.
I've written about this before too many times to count & I don't want to beat a dead horse here, but suffice it to say, I feel like I am literally half-assing nearly every area of my life due to this inability of my daughter to sleep at night. I am trying so hard to be strong, to be grateful for the few nights of overnight nursing I have per week, & to be chipper during the day, but it's been difficult. I am unsure how to function some days on 30 minutes of sleep a night. I feel old. I feel the toll this is taking on my body. I have gray hairs! My eyes have wrinkles & look puffy. Don't even get me started on these damn thighs/booty/saddlebags (the only thing on the planet I'm NOT half-assing! Haha!). I think I maxed out my cortisol levels like 3 years ago. If I find time to eat twice daily, it's a Christmas miracle. It's been a good decade or more since I cheerfully hopped out of bed ready to take on the day.  And you know what?  I can live with ALL THAT SHIT because I love my daughter so fiercely. But I want to fix this for her, & a little bit (selfishly) for me.  

I am back to researching things like a mofo, scouring the internet for sleep remedies/solutions, & searching for that one thing I hope I'm just missing that could solve this for my daughter. Hell, 3 days ago, I impulse bought an essential oil off of Amazon for like $43 which supposedly helps with "Peace & Calming."  I didn't even bat an eye at spending this kind of money for a 0.5 oz. bottle. ADD TO FUCKING CART. Seriously. I gotta help my girl!!! We are back to doing our regular craniosacral appointments after a month "break" due to our insanely crazy schedule with too many basketball games a week to count (GO SHOCKERS!!! 34-0!!!!!), which I LOVE!

Craniosacral with Daddy & Karen

I have been playing meditation music before bed, getting the dwarves into their badass therapy tub, & doing lavender baths. Mrs. Pocket is hittin' the magnesium, getting acupressure stimulation on points which help facilitate sleep, & last night she even got a vibrating back massage on her tight muscles associated with her kyphosis. We've also tried foot rubs with magnesium gel & the new snake oil (AKA "Peace & Calming" -- just wondering if I can ingest this shit?!?! 0.5 oz. may not be enough to zen my tired ass out though, dammit...), low lighting, bright lighting, no light, TV on, TV off, noise in the room, quiet in the room, singing, humming, motion, walking, swinging, bouncing, patting-till-my-arm-goes-numb, sitting up, laying on both sides, laying flat on her back, laying on her back with head elevated, laying on her tummy (don't judge, I'd have positioned her directly on her 4th metatarsophalangeal articulation for 27.6 sec out of every minute for 24 straight hours if that would remedy this insomnia clusterf*ck every. single. night. You have NOOOOOO idea!!! LOL), sleeping in the living room, sleeping in the bedroom, fan on, fan off, bath before bed, no bath before bed, meal right before bed, meal 1 hour before bed, meal 2 hours before bed, going to bed early, going to bed late, feeding homemade organic baby food, formula, bone broth, coconut water, filtered water, scotch & water (kidding, though others have suggested whiskey, but I cannot bear to liquor up my 9 lb. child...), organic baby food packets, Sleepytime Tea, melatonin, tart cherry juice, tryptophan, Rescue Remedy, B6, chiropractic visits, homeopathics, voodoo spells, prayers, begging, bribery, trickery, fuckery, consults with a medical medium, consults with higher powers, consults with every possible person I know & don't know on the planet, and more, to no avail. This chick o' mine is either a vampire or NOCTURNAL, yo.  So, aside from up & moving to Australia or buying her some tiny, fake fangs, I'm at a little bit of a loss...

We'll get back here... soon, love.

I won't give up.  I promise, baby girl.

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