Dear Ali,

You didn’t come into the world serenely.

As I was being monitored in a hospital room, 10 weeks before your due date, a team of doctors, nurses and I-don’t-know-what-else came running in. They shoved meds and catheters in, strapped my arms down, and in a matter of minutes my belly had been cut open, You were pulled out and whisked to the NICU where they put a tube down your throat to help you breathe.

Two days later, I was allowed to hold you. The nurses said I should “kangaroo” you and hold you skin to skin, so I came to the hospital every day and I’d pull the curtain around your isolette and hold your tiny body firmly against mine.

I told you so many stories about the things that awaited you at home. Hours and hours and days and days about our crazy dog, Blue, my Grandma’s rocking chair and your very own room. I sang, “You Are My Sunshine.” Despite my horrible singing voice and your beeping monitors, it was very peaceful.

But, all I wanted was for you to come home.

Of course, in the last couple of years, your definition of home has changed a lot. I’m sorry for that. I hope that by what you have lost, you have also gained understanding, compassion and forgiveness. I’m still working on that last one. Looking for the bright side will serve you well, and when you can’t find the bright side, keep working on it. At least you can say that you tried.

Through your many different homes, and all the chaos into which you’ve been thrust, I hope you have always known how very much you are loved. I can’t really express it by holding you in my lap and singing to you anymore, but if it wouldn’t be odd for me to hold an adult in my lap and belt out tunes, you’re the adult I would pick.

And, let that be your constant. In the future, when life starts an uphill portion of its roller coaster ride, remember that you are, and will always be, my sunshine.

Love,

Mom

Follow

Email

Your birthday crept up on me this year because things have been a little crazy around here. Not that we don’t know crazy, because you and I have been doing crazy for 13 years and 364 days. Give or take a few leap years.

You, alone, have been through a lifetime of trials, but lately your trials have outweighed your triumphs. Having health problems is hard. Wearing hearing aids is hard. Being on the spectrum is hard. Having surgeries, getting blood drawn, switching schools, starting new medications, your mom starting a new job, and your parents getting divorced? All hard. And, that’s just the last nine months.

When you put it all together, it’s clear that you are the same kid you’ve always been. You roll with the punches and always come back. Slowly, but I like to think that’s because you want it to be perfect.

And, even with all the chaos you made such strides in your 13th year. You learned how to swim without vomiting! (The other people in the pool appreciate that very much.)

You learned to smell vinegar without vomiting, too! And, you even LIKE pickles now. That was a big one. Of all the advances you’ve made, I think I like not vomiting the most.

You did other amazing things too, like hiking nine miles through the mountains in California, going for a dirtbike ride, riding waves in North Carolina and seeing your first concert. It was a joy to see you experience new things. Like when you pulled the fire alarm in the hotel at midnight. Good times. Good times.

I am so proud of how resilient you are. I’m so happy you were born. Happy 14th birthday, buddy. And, just so you know, you are totally not driving anytime soon.

Follow

Email

Every single day I think about writing, but there are a lot of things I can’t share right now; things that are too painful, too wonderful, too much of one extreme or another which affect not only me, but people I love. It’s been almost a year since my life was turned upside down, but there are still a lot of things left undone.

A few days ago I went out and bought an old-fashioned, spiral notebook and some pens so I can write again. That way, I can get rid of anything I don’t want to be seen. Even though it’s easy to delete my entries on the computer, there is something cathartic about tearing the papers from a book, crumpling them up and tossing them into a dirty trash can. Of course, the good stuff can stay and when the time is right I can share those nuggets here. They are worth the wait.

I will say that the good in my life most definitely outweighs the bad, but I will also say that it’s possible to love one thing and hate another with equal intensity. It’s possible to be deliriously happy and heartbroken at the same time. It’s possible to live every day with such extreme highs and lows that you feel there will never be middle ground again. Thankfully, I have good friends to help me get centered.

There has been an almost complete lack of sunshine this summer, but it made things like a recent trip to Cedar Point even more sweet. One day the sun was out and we went to the beautifully renovated Breakers Hotel and enjoyed the lakeside pool IMMENSELY. It was my favorite day of the summer thus far. It was warm, relaxing, fun, gorgeous and my favorite way to spend a day. Period.

That evening, after frolicking in the indoor pool and hot tub (I have lost the ability to do underwater hand-stands and swim the length of a pool under water…thanks a lot 40s!) we enjoyed a nice dinner and a trip to the arcade. After the kids went to bed it was great to have some adult time, a relaxing a walk along the beach and some quiet moments watching lightning flash in the distance over the lake.

The next day was partly sunny and cool, which is the perfect weather for an amusement park. Cedar Point keeps adding more and more great coasters (this year’s new one – The Rougarou – did not disappoint). We thought my son was too short to ride Maverick, but after getting an official measurement (and wristband) at the park office, he JUST made it. Maverick is now tied with Raptor as my favorite ride at the park, with Top Thrill Dragster a close third).

Here’s my daughter and I, giving a thumbs-up at the end of the ride while my son apparently thanks heaven he was tall enough.

He doesn’t seem happy at all, does he? Red lips, courtesy of Dippin’ Dots.

I still love you, Raptor.

So, from one extreme to the other…that’s how my life has been lately and if it turns out half as good as that weekend was, then it’s just fine if it stays that way!

Cedar Point tickets and overnight stay at Breakers Hotel provided by Cedar Point.

Follow

Email

It’s not like me to brag (oh, who am I kidding), but over the past eight months I’ve learned a lot about myself and I’ve learned a lot of things that may benefit you too.

I’m here to share the knowledge I’ve gleaned from this broken life of mine in case you suddenly find yourself in a crumpled heap in the middle of a grocery store aisle. Hypothetically. Don’t ever say I never gave you anything.

1. Get some exercise. One of the first things I did after my husband said he wanted a divorce was register for a half marathon. It gave me a goal and a purpose when everything else was falling apart and it kept me busy and active at times I would’ve otherwise been alone. Plus, my hamstrings are totally happening right now.

2. Surround yourself with the kinds of friends you can call any time and say, “Can I just come over and sit at your kitchen table for awhile?” And, then when you do, they’ll teach your kid how to create massive slingshots out of rubber-bands.

3. Surround yourself with old friends who knew you when your bangs were as big as the 80s. You’ll not only laugh about those times, but you will create new memories easily and comfortably. Anything that makes you feel safe and happy is good right now. Embrace it. Thank you, Facebook for making sure we all don’t lose touch. Now, fix your Newsfeed.

4. Let your kids decorate their rooms in their new space however they want. Though, I did draw the line at a keg. Bonus if the wall of photos includes an image of Justin Timberlake upon which you can gaze while you’re running the sweeper.

5. Buy yourself things that make you smile. No, you don’t have the money right now, but you also don’t have a lot of sanity so it only makes sense. Right? Wait.

6. Do fun things with your kids as often as possible. Because, duh.

Indoor rock climbing. Who needs fingernails, anyway?

This picture sums up so much about our personalities. SO. MUCH.

7. Don’t buy cheap trash bags. Sure you’re trying to save money, but when you end up using two bags because the first one ALWAYS breaks, it doesn’t save you as much as you’d think. Also, let’s look at this picture and see how it relates to #5; beer, watermelon, Ramen noodles, chocolate and Target. Enough said.

8. Park in the carport even if NO ONE ELSE does. When all your neighbors are driving piles of rust, you’ll thank me. Also, you might have to park in the carport because everyone takes your spot in front of your apartment because NO ONE parks in the carport.

9. Get dressed up. Fix your hair. Put on makeup. OR, put on jeans and Converse and throw your hair in a pony tail. Whatever makes YOU feel good. But, get out of your yoga pants unless you’re going to yoga.

10. Read. A lot. Read books, newspapers, magazines, or even old emails from friends. I’ve read books on psychology, law, co-parenting, relationships and a good old-fashioned novel or two. Daily, I read a lot of blog posts and messages from a support group to which I belong full of women in all different stages of this process. Educate yourself. It’s powerful.

11. Don’t name-call. I wish I could say I’ve stuck to this, but I haven’t. There is nothing harder than trying to control your emotions when they are filled with hurt and sometimes anger just flows out. I mean, like a river. Probably the Amazon. Anger is so EASY, but try not to take the easy way out. It just makes everybody feel bad.

12. Hang in there. Life on the other side is different, but you can be happy again. I promise.

13. Try not to smack people who promise you’ll be happy again. They mean well. And, they’re actually right.

Follow

Email