Guest post

A Special Christmas

I’m over on the Ruckus Media blog today talking about how we don’t have a ‘traditional’ Christmas with our special needs daughter.

I’d love to hear about what you’ve changed up about your holiday routine to make your life a little less stressful this time of the year!

You can also head over to Ziggity Zoom for some free holiday printables for your kids!  (Free + Christmas+Keeping your kids busy = Awesome).


*Disclaimer: I haven’t been paid or otherwise compensated to talk about Ruckus Media or Ziggity Zoom.  I just think they’re great companies.  So there. 


This is a guest post from a special friend of mine, Dre.
She normally blogs at her site, Life on a Tightrope.
For personal reasons she did not want to post this on her own site, so please leave your comments for her here, or on Twitter.


For many years I have put the needs of others over my own. I am breaking free of that pattern and finally discovering what it feels like to show my true self to the world.


I would rather be wanted, than needed.
Neediness reeks of desperation, loss of control, weakness.
That is not what I want to see in your eyes when you look at me.
Don’t need me.
Your need is the suffocating heat weighing heavily on my chest in the middle of a barren desert.
Your need is a small and dark place that leaves me scrambling…
     for the open sky,
          for a cool breeze in my hair,
               for pavement passing swiftly beneath my feet.
Don’t imprison me with your need… hands grasping, voice begging.
Don’t need me.
Want me.
Want me for who I am…
Not what I am to you.
Not for what you think you need me to be.
Let me walk away…
     and revel in the joy you feel when I return.

Inappropriate Much?

I’m over invading PigTailPals blog with a rant about a Twitpic that came across my Twitter stream yesterday.

You should go read it.  I mean… would you really want your kid wearing this?

I’m Not Here. I’m Over There —>

Lisa, of Let’s Talk Babies, is in the process of moving houses, so she asked me if I would guest post for her.  Of course I said YES!!

She was one of my very first regular commenters on  my blog and I will forever adore her for that.

So, if you’re looking for me, I’m not here.  I’m over there.

I’m Not Here. It’s Figment Of Your Imagination

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Image by Lady-bug via Flickr

I’m over at Nic’s blog today, talking about the current feel of the blogosphere and explaining why she’s decided to take a break from it all.

You can head over there to see what mildly profound things I had to say.  Or not.

 Im Not Here.  Its Figment Of Your Imagination

Zombie Apocalypse

So, yes, Bil and I did manage to finally get out on Sunday for a few hours.  The lady who came to do respite for V was wonderful.  V didn’t even cry!!  Big win for us.  And we’re hoping to make it a weekly thing.

I was going to write all about it here, in more detail, but then Ali asked me to guest post for her.  And my brain cells are shot lately, so I wrote up a lovely post over on her blog about our dinner out, and how the zombie apocalypse is going to come and how mommy bloggers are totally going to rock it.  Or something like that.

PS.  For those who made the zombie list, thanks, and…uh… sorry about that.

I’m Not Really Here

This is just a figment of your imagination.

Because in reality, I’m over at The Psychobabble, talking about mah bewbs in all their glory.

Guest Post: Afraid

We’ve all been through stuff with our family when we just needed to vent and get it all out there.  Unfortunately, if you have a public blog that your family knows about, it’s not always the best place to do it (unless you want to cause a lot of family tension, drama, headaches…)

So when my good friend Lu told me she needed a place to ‘throw her dirty socks around’, I told her to come on over and let it all out.  I have enough dirty laundry posted on this site; what’s a few more socks?

After reading her story below, I can totally understand why she would need to get this off her chest and blow off some emotional steam.

So, without further ado, the lovely Ms Lu….

So I got the call yesterday.  the call that I was expecting to get actually.  It’s funny how just because you expect a situation or manifest it in your mind, it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with or understand.

My brother and his wife are expecting.


After giving two other children up for adoption.

****Some history is probably in order.****

My brother, G was in 10th grade when my parents moved our family (not me I was already out) from our home town to a new state.  For a high school student something like that can be hard and for my brother it was the beginning of the end.  Without 5 pages worth of information to say it shortly my brother is a hippie, a drifter, a musician,  a dreamer, not much of a do-er.  He met A, his now wife, a few weeks after starting school in the new town.  They began dating and also an intimate relationship, rather quickly.  A was actually there the morning some of my family died, and was caught “fleeing the scene of the crime” which of course, she was cleared of any wrong doing.  Well, except she was 15 and had no business being in my brother’s room overnight. (Letting your HS son have a room in the basement was NOT the best idea Mom, shit.)  Given that she has been with my brother through all of this they have an unbelievable bond, which I can understand.  They also really love each other and always have.

When they were just finishing their senior year of high school A got pregnant.  When this happened I think it was just over a year after dad and the boys died and the prospect of a new baby brought a swirling of emotion to our family.  We (mom, me, hubs, and sis) said we would back them, help them, and support them emotionally and financially.  For a while there they had decided they would marry and keep the baby.  My brother was entertaining ideas of joining the military so he would have a way of immediate support and medical care.  We said we would support whatever they decided.  Then A’s family started convincing her that this baby was going to ruin her life and had she even considered any other options?   Her mother made her go to a meeting with an adoption agency and shortly after that they decided she would give the baby up, to an open adoption.  So G & A could pick the family and have some involvement in the baby’s life.

Now I can not even begin to imagine what this feels like.  Especially now as a mother myself the emotions are a thousand times more intense.  I can not imagine how hard it is to carry the child full term and give her away.  At the time this was really hard on our family.  Especially my mom.  Who was immediately accused of “trying to replace her sons.”  Anyone who is a parent knows that if you lose a child they can NEVER be replaced.  Just typing that out makes my stomach turn.  You can not replace a child, even with another child of your own, much less someone else’s child.  It is not possible.  Yet they accused her of it.  Repeatedly, because she wanted them to keep the baby.  I was just supportive of whatever they wanted to do because I was young myself and although I was married I wasn’t “ready” for a baby either.  However I really struggled to understand how G & A could honestly let the baby go.  They both  come from decent families who would have helped  them through and teach them and support them.  But they were both in the time of their life where freedom was finally theirs and ultimately the baby would cramp their style.

G finally let me in on his view.  Since they were working with this open agency they would be able to see her and have some involvement, but still get to be kids themselves.  The agency would also be paying them enough money that him and A could move out on their own.  So not only would they not have the “burden” of the baby, they would be able to get some free money.  From the agency AND the adoptive parents.  The agency & adoptive parents paid their rent and utilities and any other expenses to make sure their baby would be in the best healthy environment possible.  G & A were “hood rich” and loving it.  At this point they pretty much quit communicating with us for the most part, but especially in regards to the baby.  They felt guilt or ashamed I guess.  I don’t know.

So a beautiful little girl was born.  A little girl who I have never met.  A little girl who not only has my blood running through her veins, but also strongly resembles me.

G & A went on with their lives which includes a horrible cocaine addiction and a stripping career.  Two years went by and A gets pregnant again.  Oh and guess what?  The adoptive parents of the first child would just love to adopt this one too. So yeah, my brother and his wife basically sold them the baby.  It was through the agency…but still, we all saw what was going on.  I never came out and called him a baby seller to his face, but we a knew it.  It was just too painful to address correctly especially with still feeling the pain of losing the first one.  So here we go again.  Except this time, the never even considered keeping it.  Ever.  He later admitted to me that the adoptive parents had been asking for months for another baby.

Fast forward a few years and G & A get their life somewhat on track.  They aren’t hooked on drugs anymore (just a little lot of pot) and decide it’s time to get married.  I mean they have been together forever anyway so why not.  Soon after they figure out another way to get free money, school grants and loans.  They rack up thousands of dollars in loans only to have that idea fizzle out as well.  They both struggle to maintain school, jobs, and their hugely important social life.  Soon after the money runs out they find themselves in despair once again.

Once again my mom opens her arms and home to them.  During that time they are trying to figure out what the hell they can do with their life now.  They literally have nothing left but some personal belonging and each other.  So how can we get money again???  HMMMM.  This time it was the military.  During a time of war.  They are so desperate to get something for nothing.  So A joined but G was denied.  A has worked her butt off, and it turns out, it wasn’t something for nothing.  I will give her credit for that, for sure.  All along though, I just keep wondering what kind of scheme they will come up with to get her out.   So the first thing they did to keep her from getting deployed was sign her up for bunion surgery.  Then they tried to deploy her again, so she signed up to have her other bunion removed.  They were here for a weekend in between the surgeries.  During a casual conversation about what would happen after that, how long she would recover before being deployed my brother pipes in with, “well if she gets pregnant, she won’t be deployed.” AH HA.

So it begins, again.

So now you are caught up.

She went in yesterday for her second surgery only to find out she is pregnant.   My brother called me and said, “I am going to be a father.”  My natural reaction/response was, what does this mean?  He was like, what do you mean, what does this mean?  It means I am going to be a father.  Of course I am thinking, um, you already are, so what the fuck does this mean??? Now I never said, so are ya keeping it?  I guess he just thinks I am supposed to know they are.  I mean, what is different now that I am supposed to be anymore happy about this than the last two times you “were going to be a father.”

My mom and I are literally afraid to get invested.  Afraid to get excited.  Afraid to love.

We have been beat up emotionally a million and a half times by my brother and his wife.  For way more than the two other babies.   G & A are the type of people who if you piss them off they will use this baby as a pawn to get what you want or make you feel bad.  I am so afraid.

I am afraid for the other two babies to ever feel like they came from a family that didn’t want them, but then we wanted this baby.  We wanted those little girls, they were loved before they were ever born.  We would have loved them forever.

I know that my brother can be an amazing father.  I just hope he follows through this time.

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