Two days ago was my son’s 12th birthday; the day to commemorate how far he’s come after beginning his life being whisked away via ambulance to another hospital. The same hospital where his dad and I have sat, time after time, wringing our hands in the waiting room during his many surgeries. This child of mine, for whom I have given so much time and even more energy is now nearly a teenager. I never thought we’d make it this far.

And, yesterday was Mother’s Day; a day to remember the first time I held my son. A day for me to cherish my boy and his sister and, honestly, after the 12 years we’ve had with my youngest that’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to savor every moment of motherhood.

The combination of these two important dates were churning up a lot of memories. I was feeling pretty emotional, so when I found out my son was writing some nice things about me at his Scout banquet the other night I thought it was perfect timing. I knew it would be just what I needed to make me feel better and focus on the present.

As I stood with other parents, he approached me with this.

Then he handed it to me and said, “Here, Mom. I’m sorry I drew you so fat.”

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Just over a week ago, we got this.

Obviously, we’ve lost our minds.

This little bundle of trouble is Luna. She has been busy chewing on cords, peeing in the house and terrorizing our other dog. We do not have time for this puppy. We can’t afford this puppy. We definitely don’t have the energy for this puppy.

We also know that if you wait for the right time, it will never come. And, we can barely afford bread but that doesn’t stop us from buying it.

There are a lot of reasons why I can justify getting this dog. Mostly, it’s because our daughter is just a few years away from college and our son is almost a teenager and there isn’t anything better than a puppy to create forced family time with your children.

Plus my kids are getting hard to snuggle and they aren’t as soft. And, they don’t have sweet chicken liver breath. If I could have kept my babies little, I would have. Not too small, though. Not so small you can’t take them to movies or go to restaurants. And, definitely not small enough to have to wear bibs all the time. Two words. Re. Flux.

Of course if I had been able to keep my kids small I probably wouldn’t need a puppy so badly. That is likely the REAL reason I said yes to this fluffy ball of fur. I think part of me will always have the desire to care for something less self-sufficient than I am. Deep down I need to be needed.

Or, I just really like chicken liver breath.

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Well, I gave it a good run.

Okay, it was more of a short walk, but my legs are really tired and I’ve come to the realization that I need to climb back on my horse. My Zoloft horse.

Despite my best effort, the slow, dizzying withdrawal, and the long walks on the beach with my doctor – I can finally admit with certainty that I need anti-anxiety medication. It wasn’t the first time I started crying in the middle of the grocery store that I came to this conclusion, it was the second.

A doctor once told me that it’s okay to need medicine to deal with stress, because our environment evolved faster than our brains. We’re still functioning on serotonin levels from thousands of years ago; before jobs, traffic, and kids’ schedules for which you have to hang three different calendars on the wall. Remember when all you had to worry about was hunting and gathering? Life was so much simpler then.

So, it isn’t that I have one, big overwhelming THING, it’s many, small things that make me feel like my head is going to pop off. It’s shopping, cooking, cleaning, work, kids, WEEDS, traveling, insomnia and a pile of paperwork that won’t go away despite my wishes. It’s not having time to fill the car with gas before I drive my daughter across town, it’s finding a chance to help my son prepare for his talent show, and making sure everyone has clean underwear before we leave the house.

Plus, I’m heading into my busy work season. Oh, and did I mention that we’re getting a new puppy tomorrow?

Just one, not both. I’m crazy, not stupid.

It’s time for a refill, STAT.

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“Mom, can you tell me about the autism arc again?”

“Sure, buddy. Autism is like a rainbow. There are people like you, with PDD-NOS, who are on one side of the rainbow and the more autistic behavior you have, the more you slide across the arc. The kids on the other side of the rainbow have a harder time expressing themselves and their feelings, but they understand things just like you do. In fact, even though some of them can’t talk, they are very, very smart.”

“What type of kids are in the middle of the rainbow?”

“Well, again, they understand things just like you do, but maybe they have more tics; like flapping their hands or spinning around, or maybe they have trouble talking to other people.”

“Mom, I think I’m in the middle of the rainbow.”

“You do? Why?”

“Because of my tics. And I know most people aren’t like me, because I really love your double chin.”

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