Google+ Followers

Thursday, May 28, 2015


I am taking my 17 year old daughter and niece to a Lana del Rey concert on Sunday. I love live music and was so excited about this  six months ago when I bought the tickets.  Now? I have been obsessing over every aspect of going.

The drive is about 2 hrs.
It's outside and we have general admission lawn seating.
Is it going to rain?
Will the hill be muddy?
The concert is sold out.
What should I wear? I don't want to look like a mom trying not to look like a mom.
I don't know where the bathrooms are. 
Am I going to be able to stand for all those hours?
I have to drive home in the dark!
Blah blah blah and so on.......

I'm truly nearing panic critical mass here.  This all goes with my M.S. experience.  I tend to shy away from crowds and unfamiliar places. The concert venue is is not unfamiliar to me.  I have attended concerts there in the past.  It's actually one of my favorite venues.  I have always gone with my husband though.  Never by myself.

What was I thinking?  I was thinking this would be a great graduation present for my daughter.  I have never wanted my kids to see me shying away from things because of my M.S.  I want to be a strong role model.  I think I have.

Parenting with M.S. has been full of challenges for sure! It has affected every aspect of our lives since the day the girls were born.  The thing is kids are resilient, and this has been their "normal" their whole lives.  The have seen me at my lowest, being hospitalized, with tubes in my arms, not being able to walk, and being completely broken down.  But they have also seen me over come all those things and keep going.

So I will suck it up, put on my flower headband, and hope a friendly cloud of smoke wafts my way to calm my nerves.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

My Mom coffession

I have been a bit obbsessed with the fact that my oldest daughter is graduating high school soon.  Too soon.  I am astounded about how quickly these school years have flown by.  I worry that I may not have been involved enough in her schools.  I worry that I haven't told her enough about boys.  I worry that I haven't taught her how to make rice.  Yes rice.  It's cheap and you can do a ton of things to liven it up.  Anyhow I worry.

Here's the biggest thing I worry about though.  My dirty little secret.  My unspoken shame.  I worry that I am losing my best friend. "Whaaattt?!" you exclaim  "She is your daughter she can't be your best friend."  Not true.  She can be my best friend, but I just can't be hers.  And I'm not, I know that.

The reasons I consider her my best friend should be pretty obvious.  We spend loads of time together.  We critique each others outfits.  Share makeup tips.  We even go halfsies on shoes and makeup.  She does wear them more than I do though.  We have similar taste in music and are always like "have you heard the new Yelawolf?" " I can't wait for the Lana Del Rey concert".  I know all the school gossip. We talk about her future. We cry together and laugh together.   I have tons of fun with her.  I love spending time with her. So yeah she's my best friend.

Now I'm not naive enough to think she tells me everything.  I know she has things she shares with her friends that are all her own. I also know I get on her nerves. When I say "no staying all night at the cast party I want you home at 1:00"  or "I need an address of where you're gonna be tonight".  I always get a little attitude about that stuff.  That's fine by me because in the end she is always home at 1:00 and I always have an address.  That attitude also reminds me that while I may think of her as my best friend she will always see me as Mom first.

Friday, May 8, 2015

A special happy birthday

I need to say Happy Birthday to my friend Tracy.

She and I met in 7th grade in health class. We were taking a test and she whispered to me "hey can you move your arm I can't see your paper".  I was like "what?!"  Then she smiled and we got in trouble for laughing during the test.  We were attached at the hip from that point on.

I spent so much time at her house that her dad thought he had a new daughter. We went so much together at a very young age. We smoke, drank, cut school, and were just plain old hooligans with a fist fight or two tossed in the mix.  With arrogance that comes with youth we thought we were invincible. The situations we found ourselves in make me cringe now as a parent, but back then we thrived on the adrenalin that flowed through our veins with each experience.

We defended each other even when we knew we wrong.  We could call each other bitch, or whore, but if anyone else did, well, be prepared for a beat down.  We held each other up after the suicide of a good friend of ours.  We cried for each other when our hearts were broken by some douch-canoe of a stupid boy. We were sisters.

She was very sexually active early on. I was not.  She was the one who always told me to wait.  Her story is not mine to tell, but suffice to say she ended up pregnant at the age of 15.  I was there through it all even during the conversations her father had with her about putting the baby up for adoption.  Her mother left the scene when Tracy was only 2yrs old.  Heavy stuff for a young girl right?

Those early teen years with Tracy and her dad and brother helped shape me in ways that I'm forever grateful for.  I learned so much about friendship, and sisterhood.

As high school went on we started to lose touch since Tracy was staying home taking care of her baby and eventually got pregnant again at 17.  Our lives went separate ways for years until we met up again in the grocery store one day.  By that time I was pregnant with my second daughter and Tracy had just had her fourth.

We kept in touch, went to birhday parties for each others kids and just chatted a lot.

Tracy was diagnosed with Lupus some years back and things started to fall apart for her.  Her health steadily declined.

She would have been 44 today.  She passed away almost two years ago leaving behind one son, three daughters and several grandbabies with another due any day now.

Happy Heavenly birthday Tracy. You were my best friend, and sister during a very special time in my life.  I will always love you.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015


Choices made, Hell to pay.  I'm not gonna apologize for making it.

I covered all my scars with layers of denial and tears a long time ago.  They're still there, but you'll never see them because you can't open your eyes wide enough to see beyond you.  Worked for what I have. I haven't lived the life I dreamt of.  Haven't come close.  But I do what I can.

 I'll never be the hero of a story. My stories are not for you.  Easily forgotten, easily lost.  One time I forgot myself, let someone get in my head. Poked around stirred up hope and dreams then they were gone.  I think it was a dream because it was dark outside.  Mourning came and it was all gone.

Choices made, Hell to pay.

Always afraid to try.  Always hurt.  Never trusting.  Those lyrics are tattooed in my mind,  if you look close enough you can see the echoes in my eyes.  But you'll never get close enough, I won't let you.

Afraid to live. Afraid to die. Afraid to be dismissed and pushed aside.  That's only part of me.
Longing to belong and know my worth is all of me.