For Uncle David, Pug, Jonny, and millions more

The first memory I have of a Veteran is that of my Uncle David. I didn't understand what the word meant but I knew he was one. David had a smile that matched the size of his enormous heart. And his hugs...he would crush you if you let him, they were so very tight. He had a very beautiful family, 3 beautiful children. Anyone who was in David's presence felt immediately that the world was a better place for having known him. David was a Veteran of the Vietnam War. While he was one of the lucky ones to come home. History shows us that he did not come home to the welcome he deserved. I remember in my political youth, I once said that while I certainly apposed the Vietnam War. I would never feel nothing but tremendous pride in my brave Uncle David. As a kid I used to wish that I could travel back in time so that perhaps I could have given him the welcome home he so deserved. In High School when I visited the Vietnam Memorial I was overcome. Inconsolable I could only sob "there are so many names". The memory tears me up to this day. I also remember seeing fellow classmates etching names of relatives and I was so grateful that my Uncle David came home. Unfortunately David still left this world far too soon, but there is not a Memorial or Veterans day that goes by that I don't think of him. David instilled in me the awareness that while you can disagree with WAR you must always be grateful to the people who love their country so much, that they are willing to sacrifice themselves.

Pug, our former landlord (funny how that just sounds like such an inappropriate way to describe him to me) and dear friend. Has eyes that light up when you see him. He is always so kind and always has all the time in the world for you. He has this hearty laugh and is just a very very wonderful soul. I'm honored to know this Korean War Vet. My life has been so enriched by our many discussions about life and war. I think of him today.

And my sweet cousin Jonny, I can fill volumes with my pride for him. By far the most loving and tenderhearted boy I have ever met. He deserves nothing but the best in this life. He is so talented, and brave, and smart, patient and kind. And he is the first person I've known that has really brought about a new level of understanding when it comes to war. Jonny is an Iraq War Veteran. And I look at Jonny as a mother looks to a child. I see the invisible scars, the private war that wages in him. I learned from him that the sacrifice of our armed forces does not end on the battlefield. It continues on long after the tour is over. And they all continue to face it with a bravery that floors me with it's magnitude.

I think of them and all the other sons and daughters, that have and continue to make a sacrifice I will never be capable of.

Including:
Ernest James Brownley Sr.
Ernest James Brownley Jr.
Phillip Brownley
Evan Campbell
Roscoe Liverman
George Liverman
Edward Plympton Brown I.
Thomas O'Hara


Regardless of whether you feel a war is just or not, The love and devotion they show to this country through their sacrifice is a gift that none of us should ever take for granted. On the battlefield and off.

I offer my simple and humble... Thank You.

I'm borrowing this one

I've recently started lurking this fantastic blog called Praise the Mother. I have yet to obtain the courage to post a comment but I'm incredibly impressed with it and more importantly her taste in music. I've only recently had the chance to catch up on my favorite blogs. Due to some family issues (totally blog worthy but I don't think I have the strength the write about it just yet) I've missed blogging, I'm not sure if anyone missed me. But I will and must return to this very soon. In any case she posted this song from Pearl Jam (a beloved band from my youth that I seem to be falling in love with all over again recently) This song perfectly sums up my life of late.



In Hiding - Pearl Jam
I shut and lock the front door.
No way in or out.
I turned and walked the hallway, and pulled the curtains down.
I knelt and emptied the mouth of every plug around.
But nothing's sound.
Oh, oh. Nothing's sound.

I stayed where my last step left me.
Ignored all my rounds
Soon I was seeing visions and cracks along the walls.
Oh. They were upside down. Oh. Oh.
I swallow my truth to keep from lying.
I swallow my face just to keep from biting. I, I...
I swallowed my breath and went deep, I was diving. Diving.
I surfaced and all of my being was enlightened.
Now I'm...

I'm in hiding. (x4)

It's been about three days now since I've been aground.
No longer overwhelmed.
And it seems so simple now.
It's funny when things change so much, it's all state of mind.

I swallowed my truth to keep from lying.
I swallowed my face just to keep from biting. I, I...
I swallowed my breath and went deep, I was diving. I was diving.
I surfaced and all of my being was enlightened.
Now I'm...

I'm in hiding. I'm in hiding, I'm...
I'm in hiding, I am, oh. I'm in hiding
I'm in hiding yeah. I'm in hiding, I am...
I'm in hiding. (x2)

Auditory Journeys

This past Friday, I went for my first audiogram in a few years. Oddly enough I was incredibly nervous. It's not a painful test. Not if you don't count the incredibly intense bout of tinnitus the test sets off. Still I was incredibly anxious. I realized though that this is the test that will point out just how bad my hearing is. It will lay it out in a neat little graph. There is that part of me that wants it to look like it did years ago, in the mild-moderate range. But I know better, I know that sideways S has dropped lower down the graph. And it has.

As you can tell I've begun the descent into the moderately severe zone. If you're lucky (and I hope very much that you are) you've never laid eyes on one of these graphs. Most are filled with little less than or more than symbols, x's and o's. The way the test works is they relay words or beeps at certain Hertz levels, if you can't hear them or understand them they raise the decibel level until you can. Human Hertz levels range from 200-3000. 200 being the lowest bassiest human sound. 3000 being the highest Mariah Carey kind of highs. But everyday human conversation usually falls into the 300-1000 range. Now if your hearing is "normal" you begin to hear what could be described an understandable whisper at the 0 -20 level. Yours truly as you can see doesn't BEGIN to hear those whispers them until they get to 50-60 decibels which is the volume at which most people carry on conversations. So your normal conversation is about as understandable as if you were whispering to me.

I walked away still feeling the enormity of my challenges, but I was also a little relieved because I had a better understanding of my disability and what to expect.

And you know it's easy for me to talk about the obstacles I face, but It's also hit home to me that my loved ones must have difficulties as well, when it comes to being a part of my life. I can't imagine how difficult it can be at times for my family and friends. Having to repeat themselves over and over again. And they've never really complained about it. They are learning that they can't turn their backs towards me or try to tell me something from another room. Ned when we first started dated would get hoarse from speaking at a higher volume and repeating himself so much.

That's why for the first time in my life finding the right hearing aid is so important to me, I have to show them that I'm doing all I can to take charge of my situation. And I have to thank them more often when they do the little things they know will make it easier on me to understand them. Like tapping me on the shoulder when they want to get my attention. Repeating themselves when they realize I really didn't understand what they said. Even interpreting for me when in social situations. I know that the extra effort it takes for them to be in my life can't be the easiest of tasks at times. But I'm truly blessed that they take it all in stride.

Papa Can You Hear Me?

I believe my hearing problem began when I was in my Teens, although it was probably progressive long before then. Part of it was due to my insatiable love for live shows but most of it was due to genetics. My teens were filled with “she only hears what she wants to hear” or “she has selective hearing” My mom thought that it was teenage rebellion when in fact my hearing was deteriorating. I have what is referred to as “reverse slope” hearing loss. In a nutshell I can hear high frequency sounds such as birds chirping, sirens, insects but I cannot hear low frequency sounds, such as appliances, and most importantly baseline levels of human speech. What’s so odd about it is that I might completely understand someone who is 8 ft away and for the life of me not understand a word your saying when your standing in front of me. Hence why it comes off as “selective”. Imagine this… there are people with reverse slope hearing loss that can’t hear thunder but yet they can hear a bird chirp a block away. That will be me in a few years my friends. Crazy isn’t it?

I used to say that my hearing loss is the one dependable thing that my biological dad (Russell) gave me. Thanks Genetics! After becoming a parent, I’ve realized that Russell isn’t really a BAD guy, He never beat me or my mom. And he was never verbally mean to me.He just made bad choices, he didn’t know how to be a dad, he didn’t know how to be present, he didn’t know how to live in the real world.

I saw Russell very rarely a few days in the summer and on the holidays. He never called me when I was a kid, when we would make plans something would always come up, work or car trouble. When I would visit we would watch movies or I would watch him work on his car. Talking was always awkward. One thing that was always certain was that he could not hear well at all. Even now he has aids in both ears and he has on a good day maybe 25% of his hearing.

Recently I picked up this book on hearing loss, ‘Hearing Loss & Hearing Aids A Bridge To Healing’. It’s made me realize that a lot of what’s been funky with me lately is due to me not being realistic and proactive about my increasingly severe hearing loss. This book points out that social phobias and emotional problems commonly develop as a result of untreated hearing loss.Things like increased anger (check), frustration(check), paranoia(check), insecurity(check), instability, nervousness(check), tension(check), anxiety(check), irritability(check), discontentment(check), depression(check), fearful(check), and lack of focus(check). You get the idea.

But Then I read the following:
“It’s been said that uncorrected hearing loss is more noticeable than hearing aids because the act of concealing a hearing loss is doomed to fail.It can make a person appear foolish, inattentive, disinterested, confused, senile, or mentally challenged.”

I felt my world all at once come undone then back together again.

See, a few years ago after Russell’s dad passed away,I found myself connecting with my uncle Steve, he is a great man that reminds me so much of my grandmother, who I was incredibly close with. He told me that when he was a kid my grandparents had quite the time with Russell.That it got so bad that they sent him to a mental institution for a year (for what exactly only Russell knows).“He was lost in his own world, and had no interest in being with us, he never paid attention.”His inability to socialize his anxiety problems led me to believe that perhaps it was that Russell was a functioning autistic. But this passage made me see it all so clearly.

Imagine growing up in the 60’s, a time when most deaf and hearing-impaired kids were sent to institutions and considered mentally retarded because they couldn’t speak properly. I’m sure that my grandparents never considered the fact that Russell had a severe hearing impairment, as he spoke perfectly normal. (The tricky thing with reverse slope hearing loss is that it can go untreated in children because they have perfectly normal speech thanks to the fact that they can hear high-frequency consonants such as “s,” “f,” “sh,” “ch,” “t,” and “th.”) This meant that children like Russell were diagnosed with other problems as apposed to having a hearing impairment. Of course Russell had emotional problems but they were due to his severe hearing loss. For years he was told he was stupid or retarded when really the root of his problem was his hearing. I don’t think that Russell wore hearing aids until he was in his 40’s. Imagine how messed up a person can become with 30 years of the incredible isolation unchecked deafness can bring. Most of my anger and frustration came from never understanding Russell and why he did the things he did. Why he made the choices he did. This revelation has made me look at him in a whole new light.


But perhaps now for the first time in my life I’ve found some kind of footing of understanding. Does it mean that I can erase the past and we can be father and daughter again? No. Does it mean that I can quite possibly have a healthy relationship with him? Maybe. Can I trust him enough to make him a constant part of my life? That I don’t think can ever happen. But I do know for the first time since I was a kid.I want to talk to him. And for the first time since I was a kid,I’m not angry or apprehensive about it.

There is so much just spinning in my head about this.So much just going click, click, click. I’ve gained a new understanding of my current situation and myself. And for the first time ever I finally have an insight into my father. It’s taken me years to get here and the speed to which everything is happening is making my head spin. I’m as close to peace, with regards to this aspect of my life, than I have ever been. I only hope that I can get it all out before it explodes.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes...

To say that the last three years living in the middle of nowhere, in the heart of redneck USA, has been difficult would be a serious understatement. We settled in this small town with a population under 1,000 because of it's affordable housing and easy commute. While we always knew the move here would be temporary, and despite our endless efforts to make the best of it, each week became a little more difficult to stomach. Dealing with religious zealotry, bigotry, racism, classism, and gossip did quite the number on us. The one beacon of hope was the little house we found our refuge in. This place we truly made a warm and loving home. This was the place we welcomed our daughter home to. The place she took her first steps in, the place we set up our first Christmas tree as a family. This house is filled to the rafters with memories of laughter, love, and tears. And we will miss it always, but it's time to go.

Recently the stars aligned and fate has opened a new door for us. Or perhaps I should say that we have truly begun to brick our own path in life. All three of us are at long last able to jump into the real world again. Our next location was going to be Ned's choice (he twice moved to towns of my choosing, thanks to my radio career) We had a few places in mind, Charlottesville-Virginia, Asheville-NC, and Orono-Maine. All quite a distance from my family particularly my mom. Some who have been in similar motherly situations would say "that's not far enough for me" But when my mother had her nervous breakdown and her counselor asked what it was that brought her happiness. She said she could think of only one thing, and that was Stella. (not her own two children by the way). It's been awhile since then but I know that sentiment rings true today. After much consideration, much soul searching we realized that a few more years near them could be tolerable if we just found a town we liked.

Enter Greenville. We had begun choosing Greenville as our "big city" destination when we needed more than just what our local grocery store could provide. One day while driving home Ned tells me "why don't we move to Greenville?" After much research it seemed like a great choice. Home to a respectable university(good public schools), Mass Transit system, Museums, Parks, Recreation, a respected Hospital, and Pizza Delivery! (yes we live in a town with no food delivery service - OH THE HORROR) Obviously we became as educated as possible on the pros and cons of moving to Greenville. No way in hell we were going to make the same mistake again.

And since making this decision EVERYTHING has fallen right into place. The fates are giving us constant high fives on our choice. After getting back from my best friend's wedding in Florida. We dove into finding a place. I make a few house viewing appointments and send Ned to Greenville to check out a few places on Wednesday. I get a call from him after he looked at the first house. "I'm not feeling this house, but let me tell you the landlord is awesome, she's driving me to see two other houses. I'll call you later" about twenty minutes later "call and cancel those other appointments, I think I found the one...or maybe two, and have I told you how awesome Melissa is?"

He comes home full of excitement. With a grin that I thought was stifled by our small town long ago. He tells me all about Melissa and her husband Randy. Tells me how they too are cancer survivors. That she loves real beer (Ned's a bit of a beer snob) That he has a sneaking suspicion that they are dead heads (serious points in Ned's book) He loves them and he loves the two houses he wants to show me on Friday before we enjoy a few beers with Melissa at the bar thats just a few blocks away (what this isn't a dry county?? seriously we're in heaven!).

Friday can't come soon enough, He and I take the trip down and I meet Melissa, I'm instantly at ease as it feels like we are meeting an old friend. She shows us this great little place (the first one Ned saw) and while standing in the kitchen Melissa starts to talk politics and I seriously want to kiss her but I figured it's our first date I don't want to scare her off.

We see the last two, the ones that Ned likes. They both have all the personality I love in an old house. And best part about it they are in Melissa's neighborhood. Out of the two there was one that just seemed so right for us.

With this great little front room with a mantle and old fireplace.

A large inviting dining room (perfect for our many upcoming dinners amongst our new friends)

with a beautiful french door leading to the kitchen that's so sweetly vintage.

And the perfect room for my studio - the only room in the house with carpeting.


After choosing a house, Melissa takes us to Ham's where much to our delight most of our neighbors are hanging out. Ned and I must have looked like total dorks as we were smiling like a bunch of jackasses. Meeting these great people just made us more certain that our moving choice was the right one, all across the board. Here were some particular highlights of the evening.

*Ned discovered his new favorite game "Cornhole". (seriously he can't wait to play it again) It's kind of like horseshoes for drunks.

* I made a new BFF in the wonderment that is Jamie, any woman who says things like "acrobatic nipples" is my kind of people. Seriously folks I see lot's of crazy stories involving Ms Jamie and I in the future.

*Our new friends Melissa & Randy are some amazingly cool people. We very much look forward to getting to know them.

*After living next to a 93 year old lady for the past three years I forgot what it was like to live next to kindred spirits, to be around like minded people, to be able to laugh and speak our minds and not worry about a damn thing. This is perhaps THE thing that excites us the most about this move.

So the past few days has been a whirlwind of bubble wrap and liquor store boxes. I'm scared, excited, nervous, and relieved. Most of all I feel happy. Hello old friend it's been awhile.

For cryin' out loud!!

I wish you could hear the messages dear old mom leaves me.
It's important that you read the following as if you are laying on the floor completely wiped from exhaustion.


Beep:
Hhhhhhello is anyone there? HELLLLLOO. Fine I guess no one wants to talk to me. That's okay I just wanted to talk to MY BABY (not her actual baby but her granddaughter) I would tell you to call me back but I know you won't. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive. Don't worry about me HELLLLO?

For the love of god I talked to her TWO DAYS AGO!! and nine times out of ten I'm either running after stella because she has something she's not supposed to and she thinks it's hilarious when I tell her NOO! or PUT THAT DOWN RIGHT NOW! or I'm cleaning her stinky ass. So yeah I'm going to have to miss that call.

Halloween Scenes

In our household Halloween is taken VERY seriously. Often Ned and I can be heard contemplating costumes year round. Next to Christmas Halloween is our favorite holiday. Much to our incredible satisfaction Stella seems to enjoy it as well. Pointing out pumpkins and monsters. And It didn't take her long before she had the whole "Trick or Treat" thing down. Of course she upon receiving said candy she would immediately dig into her bucket in the hopes that she might be able to sneak a piece. But mommy and daddy ever the party poopers had to "take out the unsafe candy" wink wink first. Here are some highlights.

Arrgh! give me yur CANDY you filthy bilge rat!


Give Me My Vote Bitches!

It was disturbing for me to discover how many people (especially young girls) who had no Idea what I was.


Mr. Ned was Ned Kelly and had so much fun with this costume he very well may be Ned Kelly For the next couple of years.

The Most Fantastic Words EVER

"After carefully reviewing all the information on your claim, we have made a disability decision. We find that your disability did not end. Therefore, your benefits will continue."

After a year long battle on all fronts, emotionally, physically, financially we finally won one! Today for the first time in a LONG time we feel like we can breathe again.

You Know The Thing That Does The Thing...

This evening was a lovely one. We had some family members to stop by that we haven't seen in awhile and Mom & Dad came down to take the opportunity to visit as well. We talked about lots of things. And once more I come away asking myself. Why the hell am I not all up in their day to day lives because they kick some serious ass in the awesome department. (what the hell am I 12???)

At one point my mom starts telling this story about how my aunt received this fax on her cellphone from a friend. Telling us all about how it computed the fax and that my aunt asked my mom if she ever faxed my Baby Brother. Suddenly I laughed and went "you mean texted?" to which she replies "Yeah you know faxed" The best part about it is that when my aunt walked my mom through "faxing" my baby brother (aka Baby Boi). He replies "FRAN????" Because there is no way in hell our mom just texted him. Of course she didn't she was faxing. My cousins and I immediately start asking "did you tell him you were BFF's? Or that you'd TTYL? Or what about how dad had you ROTFLMAO. I bet you Baby Boi was like WTF?!"

The look on my mom's face was priceless. Pure comedic gold that one is. Rest assured that's one she won't live down anytime soon.

B-day Recap

So while yesterday morning didn't start out so well. There was still plenty to be very happy about as the day went on.

~I recconnected with some old friends

~I voted!! (how perfect that one of the best things in the world could be done on my birthday)

~I changed my hair color and that's always fun (I haven't been a brunette in like EVER but I dig it)

~I got to spend time with my family over some fantastic mexican food.

~I got to drink one of these (I'm such a lightweight now it RIDICULOUS!)

~Obama won the NC primary! YAY

~And more importantly yesterday I realized that my Mirena IUD has been the cause of my severe depression, mood swings, and overall mental fog for the past 8 months. Which sucks because I really like everything else about this birth control. But I'm glad to finally know that I'm not going insane. And that it can be resolved. More to come on that one later.

I find it best to quote Mr. Ice Cube in these moments and simply say "that today was a good day"

Thanks for all the well wishes!

Birthday Morning...EWWWW!! in the AM

So far my 31st birthday morning has been spent cleaning poop. Stella somewhere in the dead of night woke up with a poopy diaper, decided it wasn't important to wake me up but that maybe she could handle this "clean the booty" thing ..I'm assuming upon realizing that it's GROSS!! she then decided to smear it on her crib railing in an attempt to get it off her hands. Pardon me whilst I dry heave. Now I'm going to spend the next week paranoid that she may or may not get hand, foot, & mouth disease. And thanks to this CNN report I am currently FREAKIN OUT! I've just been repeating to myself. "Self, every toddler has done this at one point or another it's just a curiosity...You're Not Alone...You're Not Alone"

Fake it till you make it...

And then puppy Zoe pooptime. It's oh so much fun trying to pick up after a puppy that's so happy to see you (even though you've been out of the room for 2 minutes) that she's got to lick your face every time you bend down...to pick up her poop.

And as I kissed my dear hubby goodbye this morning after snapping at him, after discovering that the poor guy has no clean underwear because yours truly hasn't washed a stitch of clothing in what is it 3 or 4 days now*. (how he puts up with my BS I'll never know) He still said "I love you and have a good birth day" What a man. What a birthday... I'm hoping by lunchtime things will have improved. In the meantime I'm hoping that the birthday gods will step up and give me an Obama NC win in today's primary. That would be one awesome birthday present!


*footnote: Just for the record the Hubby has NO problem washing clothes or dishes or cleaning the house, it's just that I agreed to start taking over those tasks now that he's working more than I am and well... I suck at them.

Happy Re-Birthday

I met Ned about 4 years ago. I remember our first date like it was yesterday. I went into it saying hey maybe I'll have some good conversation and get a a little action and then be on my way. (I was in this "I have no time for relationships" phase in my life)

We sat down at this little pizza joint to chat it up before our movie (which was "Saved" BTW) It was the easiest, smartest, funniest, conversation I ever remember having. It felt like we were two old friends catching up after years of not seeing each other. I walked away the next morning (after getting some mind blowing action) going "holy hell am I in trouble". He wasn't like any man I had ever known much less dated. Everything about him...about the relationship, was completely unexpected. Here I was, this dirty story writing, art & music loving, give me an indie movie and coffeehouse conversation any day of the week, tightly wound feminista. And here he was this tie-dye wearing, Jerry Garcia lovin', no heavy conversation please, give me a hiking trip on the Appalachian Trail and campfire nights, tree hugger. And from day one we fit together perfectly.

He told me even before our first date about his Cancer. He was about a year out from his surgery and radiation therapy. Being the research nerd that I am. I schooled myself on all things. Adult Medulloblastoma. Discovered that it is a brain tumor created from leftover embryonic cells and typically rears its beastly head in children before the age of 5. The instances of it occurring in someone over the ages of 19 are roughly 2%. Ned was 25. The tumor was located in his cerebellum which as you know controls balance and cognitive abilities. On the morning of March 22, 2003 the great life he once knew came to an end during a 5 hour surgery to remove the tumor. The odds were not in his favor most adults who undergo the same operation don't make it off the table. The majority that actually survive the surgery are left paralyzed or with little to no cognitive ability some even suffer blindness. He had to learn all over again how to feed himself, how to walk, Once a Master Carpenter at the top of his game he had to re-learn how to write his name with his left hand since he would never again be able to rely on the use of his right. Never a man to walk the straight and narrow, now physically walking a straight line was impossible.

Ned had to close the door on certain aspects of his life. I think for a long time he felt as though he'd never again live the kind of life he once loved so much. He had to say goodbye to his craft, which brought him so much happiness. He had to say goodbye to trips to his favorite hiking places. To this day I don't know how he survived that. Us mere mortals would have broken to pieces if we were forced to let go of even half of what he did.

I met him about a year after his surgery and treatment. We often joke that had we met one another before his cancer neither one of us would have had anything to do with the other. I've heard many a story from his friends that prove that to be true. Not a day goes by however that I don't believe with my mind, body, & soul that we were meant to be together.

I'd be lying if I told you that there haven't been dark times. There's been recurrence scares, radiation-induced necrosis scares. And when March 22nd would roll around I would find him mourning so deeply all that he had lost. Being the "sunshine up the ass blower" that I am. I would try to remind him of just how far he had come. Just how he had beaten the odds. Enter the Re-Birthday. The Re-Birthday, starting on the day of his life changing event (March 22nd, 2003) his life began anew. And each year on March 22nd we would celebrate how far he had come the previous year, celebrate being one year closer to that coveted 5 year mark. It was an intimate celebration, filled with cheesy "Your 2!" and "3 is neat!" birthday cards. I would like to think that it helped to ease the heaviness of his bad memories. I forced him to focus on the things that he had accomplished. The odds that he had overcome.

This Saturday my beloved man turned 5 years old. I was singing it from the rooftops, telling anyone and everyone who would listen. And oh what a year it had been. A few weeks ago, Ned found a new place in the world. After years of drifting, knowing that he could never be the carpenter he once was, and feeling as though he would never find something he could be that good at again. He stumbled upon something that would make him happier than carpentry ever would. Working on a vineyard. When I picked him up from his first weekend working a grape farm. It was the 2nd happiest I had ever seen him, the first being the birth of our daughter. He spends his days working the farm. Learning about wine-making. And he loves every second of it. Even on the tough days he walks in the door, covered in dirt and grinning ear to ear. He'll never know how happy I am for him. My love has found happiness again.

My daughter and I receive gifts from him that so few in this world are lucky to receive...The daily reminder to appreciate every second, never waste a minute of your life, because it can and often will be taken from you in flash. And more importantly, when the day to day struggles begin to weigh you down. When the mountains seem so hard to climb. This man did it. He swam to shore surrounded by an endless dark sea.

Happy 5th Re-Birthday Baby, here's to the first day of the rest of your life.

You can pick your friends...

You can pick your nose... but you can't pick your family.

I find great comfort in knowing I'm not the only one in the world with one crazy ass family. Just chock full of drama and issues, cooks and crazys. When the family seas are calm oh it's such a wonderful ride. But when the storms blow in (usually without warning) holey moley am I gripping the sides of the boat. For the longest time Mrs Drama (my moms) instilled nay burrowed into me that you never turn your back on family no matter what. Sure you may talk smack behind their back but your ALWAYS there for them when the chips are down no matter how much you may dislike them as people. And this has worked for most of my adult life... until I became a mother.

I stopped apologizing for my balls to the wall point of view. The more I embraced motherhood, the more I realized when the chips are down it's about HER not them. She's my family and I refuse to apologize if I choose to protect her from toxic people (be they blood or not)

Mrs Drama likes to say that blood is thicker than water. But I learned a long time ago that just because your blood doesn't make you a good person to be around. That a father can be found in someone who had nothing to do with your conception & birth. That a sisterhood can be born in a hospital room holding the hand of a childhood friend in her darkest hour.

My Dear husband has taught me in our short time together that life is so fleeting. It's so fragile and it can be taken away in an instant. I've been so incredibly blessed that I've really been able to learn this lesson from him. One of the countless things I've learned by watching him make his way through the world, Is that life can be so wonderful if you cut out all the bullshit. The days are brighter, the air sweeter, the moments that you share with those you really love become priceless. I'm lucky that I haven't had to face the darkness that he has to learn this lesson.

I don't have to suffer the bullshit just because someone is "family" NO ONE should. Why should I (even if it is once a year) make nice with a relative who would rather give the maid a day off and scrub her bathroom floor with her own toothbrush instead of have a 10 minute conversation with me? Why should I let bygones be bygones with my cracked out, white trash, two-bit, scheming, "woe is me-all the bad in my life is EVERYONE elses fault but my own" step brother? Why should I have anything to do with a cousin who thinks he's doing ME a favor by giving me a fourth of my fulltime paycheck owed to me one month after his actions contributed to serious financial rammifications for my immediate family?

Don't get me wrong I'm not asking for perfection. We all make mistakes god knows I do. But there's a difference between taking a wrong turn or saying the wrong thing and being a genuinely toxic person. I'm well aware that deep down inside some of the cooks and crazies that are my family there are good people. But if the nastiness they create daily for themselves has the potential to spill into my life to put my life, my daughter in jeopardy. You bet your sweet ass I'm going to cut the line and head for calmer seas.