My theme song sucks.

I feel like I've gone from this to this.

And that's why I haven't been writing.

You ever feel like that?

I mean, I love that people read what I write. Really, I do.

But some things I can't talk about, or choose not to talk about, and then there are times like now when things kinda suck all the way around and I'm all, "No one wants to read about how you went to the ER. Again."

For me, y'know, it doesn't even feel like complaining so much as it just feels like life. I have a lot on my shoulders right now. Pressure. Weight.

I don't feel like I'm allowed to be sad or even emotional in general. I'm scared that if I let more than one tear fall while I'm in the shower that I will end up in a padded cell somewhere.

And sometimes even that sounds like it would be a nice, relaxing break.

The funny thing is though? What I'm typing now sounds familiar. I've read it elsewhere. And I've told those people, "It'll be ok."

That's one of the great things about blogging.

People show and tell you that you're not alone.

And maybe you are crazy, but there's someone else that's just as crazy and can relate and even fool everyone they know into believing that they're totally functional which then gives you the power to think that you, too, can get through it.

Ok, so writing that really did make me feel better.

Because I know you're out there.

Today...

- Playette woke up way too early. I somehow convinced her to sleep in with me.

- I ignored the fact that I hadn't been to Kickboxing in two weeks and continued to sleep.

- I had tortellini and pesto for breakfast.

- My mother showed up.

- I had a run/walk/vent session with FNPT.

- I looked for handkerchiefs online.

- I learned that the ideal handkerchiefs are hard to find and/or quite expensive to purchase in bulk.

- I realized that I had no idea what proper attire is for a toddler at a Memorial Service.

- I got upset and cried over all the things that seem to be happening all at once that I don't know how to "fix." Things that include, but are unfortunately not limited to, whether or not to change Playette's daycare room, a more frequently unreliable respite worker, new job anxiety, conflicts with our landlord, etc.

- I wanted to get out of the house so off to the outlets we went.

- I enjoyed some In-N-Out for lunch, topped off with a milkshake. Felt a little better.

- I finished the first chapter of The Memory Keeper's Daughter in the car.

- I picked out some shoes.

- I laughed because Playette refused to walk in one pair. It was like she was stuck in one place.

- We watched her walk in two other pairs and subsequently bought those. I'm still confused over whether or not Playette is "ready" to wear these yet though. Ugh.


- I found a dress. And a shrug. Very cute. Appropriate?


- I bought boring, yet necessary, socks.


- I read Silly Sally at least 5 times. At least. And I love when I get to "tickle Neddy Buttercup" every single time.

- I finally convinced Playette that going to bed is not the enemy.

- I'm writing my first obituary.

- I may eventually get to eat dinner.

The Actual Flashback

Ok, so this sounded like an easy project at first. I would ease my way back into blogging by posting a few photos of Playette.

Simple, right?

Except:

1. The scanner at home was broken (translation: I didn't know why it wasn't working.)

2. The color scanner at work was unplugged and stashed in a corner. I still don't know what that was about.

3. As I mentioned before, my husband wasn't trying to let me get on the computer at 10pm to blog last night after he "fixed" the scanner.

4. And then after I begged him and he finally scanned in this year's photos, I realized that, well, I didn't exactly have one from last year in my possession. I know I used to have one.

So, being the resourceful lady that I am, I went into my sleeping child's shrine room and took what I needed off of the wall.

I don't know how she feels about having her photos all over her bedroom walls, but that's where they are. I guess I never gave it a lot of thought before now. It seemed cute when I did it.

Hm.

Ok, I'm going to stop myself right now because I really don't need to get ideas about redecorating because I know myself and that would only turn into a bigger mess and no one would win. Seriously. No one.

Anyway.

I took the big ole 10x13, framed, three pose, "New Mom Sucka Special" off the wall.

I took it to the scanner attempted to ignore my husband while he blah blah blahed about how it was too big to fit on the scanner and I needed to give it up already and got about 43% of the picture loaded so that I can share it with you all.

I am so proud of myself I can't even tell you.

And I think my child just now signed "read" and "together" for the first time.

Awesomeness.

Playette, Spring 2008

'member me?

Hi.

I'm back.

I've been on the west coast since Tuesday night, but I think I'm still recovering from the trip. I'm overwhelmingly tired.

And then there's work. Today's my last day at this job and Monday is my first day at the next.

My grandmother remains in a state of decline, but my aunt informed me today that when she told her last night that it was ok to let go, my grandmother's reply was, "Uh uh." In a sad situation, that kinda made me smile though I wish I knew what to do. I'm kinda at a loss. Is there something we're not doing for her that she needs? Perhaps she's waiting on my (deceased) mother to "come and get" her?

My mother's always late.

I wanted to do a Flashback Friday today, but my dear, sweet BD wouldn't let me have my way with the computer last night. He was acting as if I would stay on the computer all night instead of coming to bed. I mean, seriously. Who does that?

Me.

So instead, I will break it up into two posts so that I can finish doing what I need to do when I get home this evening.

First, we have Playette's 2009 daycare pics:
The one that cracked me up and reminded me of a pageant pose.

My favorite. Tongue, drool, and all.

I can't get over how grown up she looks! Just wait 'til you see the comparison...

Thank you

I've never attempted to post from my Blackberry before, but I figured it was worth a try so that I could let you all know how much I appreciate your very kind words.

I arrived in Philadelphia at about 6am local time after traveling through the night. I was fortunate to have been looked kindly upon by a gate agent at LAX and been given a first class upgrade, just for asking nicely. I was especially grateful to have additional comforts since I've been sick (again) all week.

I got here in time to see my grandmother. It's such a hard thing to go through right now. She hasn't seen me since October 2005 and the reasons for that are still not something I can even begin to explain. And I'm trying not to focus on that right now because that's not why I'm here, but it's easier said than done. I'm trying to focus on the positives.

My grandmother knows I'm here and if that makes it any easier for her to let go, then I am grateful.

Rough Day

Unfortunately, I just received news that my grandmother is not doing well at all. I'll be heading to DE this evening. I hope I arrive in time to say goodbye.

She's never met my baby and that makes me so, so sad.

Anyone who knows my grandmother, loves her. She's always accepted my friends as part of the family, opening her heart and home to everyone. This is a pretty crappy effin' day.

I'm not sure when I'll be back. My flight is set for Tuesday, but it's really hard to say.

I need a hug.

Nah, but that's what lt I was thinking.

There was a comedian from back in the day who used that line in his act all the time. I was reminded of that the other day.

Let me set the scene:

It's school photo pickup day at daycare and I take a break from work and to run over to make my selections. BD was picking Playette up at around the same time so that he could take her to ST, but he politely declined from taking on the task of picking pictures. He's a smart man.

Anyway, so there's this long table in the room. The photo hustlers ask you your child's name and then bring a packet over to you filled with $8,794 worth of photos for you to choose from, along with a price sheet that is more confusing than it needs to be so that they can get you appropriately loopy and stick you for your papers.

I remembered when these photos were taken a few weeks ago and I was prepared to be unimpressed at at least and get a good laugh out of it at best. I had done Playette's hair up that morning and dressed her nicely, full well knowing that her outfit would be ruined by breakfast and her hair wouldn't be far behind. I packed a second nice outfit, but told her provider that I had low expectations and not to go out of her way to try and make my child look "perfect."

I remember being a kid and getting yelled at for my barrette not being turned the right way in my second grade picture, being forced to wear a horribly uncomfortable party dress in my third grade portrait that was taken at the end of the day (after recess) and getting in trouble for messing that one up, and then failing miserably at trying to recreate my seventh grade picture without my mother knowing because I knew she wouldn't like the way the original one turned out.

So, yeah, I was trying to be very relaxed about the whole thing because I know I'm prone to Picture Day Psychosis.

Gosh, I have a hard time telling a quick story, don't I?

Anyway...

I'm looking at the pictures that they displayed for me.

Aww, they're kinda cute! And I did laugh. In one, she's super posey and reminds me of something I've seen before.

As I'm going back and forth, trying to make a decision, keeping in mind that I really don't want to spend a fortune on this, another mother walks up. I know her face, but I can't remember from where. When her photos are brought over, I realize that she's the mom of the little boy that loves Playette. I mean loves.

He gets excited to see her every morning and gives her lots of hugs. I don't know what it is. He's bigger than Playette too, and I don't think he realizes that he's a lot stronger and more stable on his feet than she is. Regardless, I know he means no harm and it's cute so I let them have their moments even though...hm.

Well, so this nosey mom glances over at Playette's photos and goes:

"She's all tongue, isn't she?"

WHA?!

Who says that?

So, I'm all:

"Well, at least she doesn't have scabies."

...
...
...


Ok, so I didn't.

But that's what I was thinking.

What I really said was:

"Yup, tongue and drool."

And I was ok. Which is great. For me.

Sure I thought she was rude and classless, but I didn't take it to heart. I honestly have shed no tears over this incident. Yay, me!

So my daughter has a small mouth and therefore her tongue protrudes. We're working on it and one day it won't. Do I wish that people would shut up about it already? Sure, I do. But I can't control their lack of home training. Seriously? This comment comes up all the time. I think people think it's cute? Or something?

I give most folks the benefit of the doubt. They can't possibly know how much it bugs me.

Of course, when it came to this lady, I still had the option of breaking it down to her about Ds (I'm guessing, hoping, that she had no idea of Playette's dx when she said what she did) and making her feel really, really small. I would have been totally within my rights to do so, I think. I just didn't feel like it at that particular time.

One day, I hope to be one of those people that can educate and not just react in an emotional manner, whether it's actual or just in my head. But I never really know what I'm going to do until it happens these days. I'm a little stressed by life in general right now and taking the time to educate the masses in situations such as this is so not on my to-do list.

Sure I have my soapbox issues. But that's my choice, which is what I think is the difference. I can write a post or a letter on my time and I'm typically not being blindsided by ignorance in the midst of it.

...
...
...

And, yes, someone in that room did have scabies a few weeks ago. All I know for sure is it wasn't my kid. And I was disgusted.

I've narrowed the carrier down though, so let's just hope that mom doesn't mess with me again.