Random

I don't know what I am aiming to write about today. I don't have a particular focus but I have a cloud in my head and I want to swat it away but I cannot for the life of me get a clear focus of what the heck I'm even trying to say. I just want to go back. Backwards to a more simple time in my life and have a clear focus on what I'm doing. Have sense of pride in myself and what I'm doing. Have an understanding that I'm okay. Assure myself that life is rough but I cannot allow myself to dwell in the sorrow. I wish my future self could tell my present and past self these things. I am allow life to pass me by. I am allowing me, to prevent myself from being happy. I wish there was a button that could erase everything. I don't know if I will ever be in that place. I want to be but there is so much within me that is tearing me apart, and all it is...is me. I want to be better. Do better. FEEL better...but its like I'm so apprehensive. I am so afraid. I want to do better things within myself. I want to reach higher plateaus but its like I'm stopping myself. I know that I am capable of better things and I know I am able to do better, but its like I cannot get there. This is a random outlet but it makes my brain feel better. Sometimes I feel as if my brain and my mind block me from whatever it is that I'm doing. I want to be a better person. I want to be a better wife. I want to be a better mother. I have to be. I don't want to mess up all that I have in this world.

The Married Life...

When I was single...boy was I single...I had some interesting times. Some would call those times "fun" I can only classify them as "interesting"...because there were sometimes that were just down right awful. I had my favorite girls I loved to go "kick-it" with and I had my favorite places to go. Typically these girls were down with staying till after the club closed and were also not into "c--k blocking" so I always knew I was in for "good times" when I was with my girls. When I was single I loved being single and admired the cast from Sex In The City for being so liberal slutty and yet somehow classy and fashionable at the same time. I wanted my drunken partying to last forever, but then I started losing grasp of reality and control over day and night, which is why its not good to party until closing every night. Because then you need to go to after hours bars and then you stop wanting the party to end, and keep the party going by drinking constantly. I was always in an alternate state of mind, if my day if work was going rough I would go to the liquor store and fill up the largest cup I could and drink all day at the job. I was a mess. I kept trying to attach myself to people and to things to find my place...a place where I was the center of the universe. The place where I was important, wanted, needed and loved. I just wanted to be loved. I remember chasing after affection of men, hoping that someone would find me valuable enough to love. Every night I would go to sleep and wake up uncertain of where to go and what to do. Where would I lay my head next...I just felt like I was always running from life. Like I was killing myself with clubs and alcohol just to fit in somewhere. As a result of my running I ended up running to the Army and through a miracle in and of itself I met my husband. Who was a jerk at first to me by the way. Press the fast forward button and here we are a couple years into this relationship, this marriage, this partnership and where are we? Still in love. We have finally reached the point where we actually fight. Like take the gloves off and hit below the belt fight. Is this a good thing? Of course not,but because of the fighting it does make for a great make up session. When we are fighting we usually say what we mean....as mean as it can be and it serves to keep us honest when we have cooled down. I makes us check ourselves, it reminds us to love each other better and work a little harder on really loving one another. It makes us grow up...it makes us mature. Sometimes we have bad days, we are learning to balance that against frustration and selfishness. We are learning to make each other a priority and not just focus on ourselves our own wants our own needs. We are almost out of this phase of marriage and into the next phase. We are the typical married couple. We have a kid. We watch tv in bed. We have our favorite foods that are different. We are married. Its a simple life. We don't go out, we chill out we rarely drink, your average married squares....but I couldn't be happier because each night when I lay down my head I know who I am waking up with and I know he still loves me. I know when he tells me I'm beautiful he means it. I love this life. I do not grow tired of it. I enjoy every moment of it. I look forward to the next 2 years, 22, and then some.....

The Terrible Two's

The terrible two's is the time at which a toddler reaches the point where they are too small for their voice to be heard, and too big to coddle like a child. The child is at a point where they want independence, but still need to be loved on like the baby they are. This is the point when the child wants to be a "big kid" but this very same kid may pee and poop in a diaper. This big kid wants to sleep in his own bed, but will scream for MOMMY in the middle of the night. This is such a big time for a kiddo and the same time its the point that you as a mom want to step into oncoming traffic. When do you get that "break" its like we were promised that when kids hit 2 they would automatically get "better"...and by better I assumed "easier" that wasn't the case. For me its gotten harder to juggle the schedule that never seems as tight as other mom's make their life out to be. Sometimes my son naps most times he doesn't. I qualify "sleeping through the night" as a 4 hour block. I still always feel like I have a hang over. I should wear a scarlet F for "F---up" because my kid still hasn't graduated from my bed...its like its one big mess upon mess. All the mommy NO-NO's I wasn't supposed to do I have done...and I feel ashamed about them. My son is 21 months and he still breastfeeds and I just don't know how to make him stop. I feel more lost at this point in his life then I did when he was 21 days old. Back in the good old days of him being an infant I would go down the list diaper, gas, milk, sleep. One of those things is always the "answer" to what was wrong. Now its a plethora of possibilities and I can't ever seem to put my finger on the exact thing. Some days my son and I are in perfect harmony. In such sync that its like we are using the same brain to think. Other days I feel like I have adopted a child that I know nothing about. I always thought that life would be easier the older he got. Now its gotten more complex. He has fits, he hits, he kicks, he refuses to eat, he "runs" me. So if this isn't terrible twos I am deathly afraid of what is. Its like I knew what I was getting into and its worse than I ever thought. Mostly I blame myself as is a mother's life...I mean what else is there for me to do? I was told that mothers teach their children how to behave, and I have taught him these patterns, and want so desperately to have a British firm but fair nanny to come in my house and fix all of this in a week. I know I have no such luck. I don't have a happy ending to this blog, this is just me throwing it out there. I expect to be judged. I expect other mothers to give their cocky answers to how they have done and will do a better job and how I'm the worst mother in the world....and I'll take it, I probably am. I love my kiddo. He is my first born. I am 25. He is 2. He is my everything. I can't stand to see him cry, even though I know he "puts on" the water works for me, I still refuse to allow him to "cry it out"....when I am upset I need to be consoled. So does he. One of these days together we will find the perfect schedule but for now we are playing it by ear. It can't be easy to grow up, because everything is always changing. One day it will get better...or at least I hope it can....but for now we are preparing for the "worst"....and that is the early onset of terrible twos...

Domestic Engineer

I have held many jobs, and the job that is the most challenging is that of the Domestic Engineer...as I'm typing I have a 21month old pressing buttons and screaming every time I scold him to stop. The job of the SAHM (Stay At Home Mom) never quite ends. Monday through Sunday I am required to maintain an optimistic outlook on my job, but realistically its really easy to get burned out. I have to ensure that my little on stays happy, healthy and clean. Three things that are a careful juggling act. Keeping him happy differs everyday, sometimes he wants to sit calmly and snuggle with me, (those are glory days), other days he wants to play outside ALL day and then there are some days when he just wants to DESTROY. I never really know what I am doing, I find its easiest to make it up as I go. I am always unsure if I'm doing the "right" thing and hope to God that all the sleepless nights, all the hard work and frustration pays off. But I never can be too sure. I look at the perfect example laid by my mother who had eight children, kept a clean house, and always had a smile on her face, she is like that creepy Stepford robot that most women hate. Thats the standard that I wish I could live up to, and know I never really will live up to for me as long as I keep my son's pulse consistent I feel like I am doing big things. I am uncertain if there is a specific definition of a Domestic Engineer...every woman has a different way in which they keep their house afloat and whatever it is kudos to you. I dont believe in criticizing someones method, because it works. I love the creativity that women have in dealing with children. Whether its making them wear diapers backwards, or inverting their shoes so they put their shoes on the "right" feet or rewarding them for not peeing in their pants, if it work kudos to you! I just wish there was more support, everyone is still figuring this parenting out. However you choose to do it. Good for you. I'm proud of you. Maybe one day our kids will appreciate and be proud of the hard work we've done.

Noah Held Mommy's Hand

Noah. My son. Super Guy. Super Dud. Stinky Guy. Pajama Party Time Jumpin' Around. Little Friend. My Bestin' Friend. Noah. He has many names all of which he answers to. Some of which make him smile that gap toothed smile I love to see. All are different. All are names he knows and responds to.

Autistic. ADD. ADHD. Downs Syndrome.
Noah?
Mr. Sensory Integrative Dysfunction.
Where does Noah fit within this spectrum. Is he disabled? Uniquely-abled? Special needs? Ability Compromised? Lets go with High Needs. Where does Noah fit in this equation with other high needs children. Well, he doesn't. Well, sort of. Okay, maybe not now, but in ten years he will be under this umbrella too. Ten years waiting on someONE to do an empirical study on children and sensory processing. GREAT. I won't hold my breath. Its so new its weird to many. I even thought so at first, but when I pushed aside my comfort zone and embraced truth for what it is and not my preconceptions of what every toddler should be doing developmentally. THAT is when I was able to accept. Noah just isn't where he needs to be.

Hmm...He is not disabled. So what the heck is he? LABEL TIME! OH NO!!! Let's assess this situation. He is different. He does not like crowded rooms full of people in new places where he isn't allowed to move away. He does not like trying new foods or touching anything (besides mud) that is sticky or wet. He does not eat anything that is wet. He has always hated riding in his carseat. He STILL breastfeeds. He cannot sleep through the night. He screams when my husband or myself leave a room. He wasn't able to use words. He could not sit in his highchair for more than a few minutes. He doesn't like change. He doesn't like strangers, being touched or touching things. He doesn't hold hands, hasn't held mine. He does not like hugs giving or receiving. He doesn't like people in his face. He doesn't like when people are unreasonably loud because he wants to be the loudest thing in the room.

Noah loves to move, stack, to climb, to jump, explore, to dance, to play, to laugh, to sing, to look at books, to GO, to just be outside. He could stay outside digging in dirt, smelling flowers-folliage eating rocks-chunks of dirt-crunchy leaves all day and night. Just about anything his baby hands can reach outside he will touch regardless of texture or apprehension. Noah is almost your typical boy. He is wild he loves to run and play with cars, and get dirty outside. He collects things, mostly rocks, he loves rocks, probably as much as he loves Kevin and I.

Noah is unique. He isn't the kind of baby that demands attention in all he does but you will find yourself observing every new thing he learns and does. At 3 months Noah said Mama and Dadda...at eight months Noah could walk. At nine months Noah got bronchitis and ear infections and suddenly lost all his words. I was afraid. I was embarrassed. My brilliant boy that could do so much...was mute for lack of better words. I hid my shame from my friends and family and passed him off as being shy, knowing all the while that things just were not right.

Turns out that my baby has a delay. *GASP* Yes, he has a delay, but guess what we are taking things one step at a time through innovative therapeutic treatments. In a few years we will have forgotten about all the therapy Noah gets to catch him up with everyone else. In a few years I won't remember Ms. Stephanie or any of his other therapists that have changed our lives. Thanks to his Speech Therapist, Feeding Therapist and Occupational Therapist, Noah also known for a while as No-Words, NOW has WORDS. My son has words! He has a voice, an opinion, an is swift to express his feelings by communicating with me.

NO! he says, and my heart melts. Yeah! He says. Tuh-tul he says pushing his turtle in the tub. GO! GO! GO! He says when he runs. His silly little feet going as fast as his tiny legs will carry him. He uses sign language, he picked it up so fast we know more-stop-help-all done-baby-mommy-daddy-cereal-bubble-go-stop-please and MANY more. I am so blessed to see a change. I was ashamed of him not being able to speak. I felt it was my fault and failure as a mother. I couldn't let go of the fact that I had done something wrong. That somehow I messed up. It was my fault he was different. So many times as a mother we allow our guilt and pride stand in the way of the developmental achievements of our little ones. Was it important that Noah beat the other kids speaking, for me, at first, yes. Now, I just want to know my baby can understand and express his feelings to me. That's what is important. Not the game us mothers play, "Oh well, MY baby can jump over the moon" is that really important, if your baby is mute?

Noah is special and I am so proud. In just a month he has changed so much. Today we went outside on an evening walk and for the first time he reached out and held mommy's hand. One whole year of his life I have never had that pleasure and it literally took my breath away. Just recently he has begun giving me kisses, and announces, MWAH! I hold in the tears. He calls my name "MOMMY" asks for HELP and signs THANK YOU...and that means so much. We will slowly work on creative fixes for not touching or being touched. We will improve on not eating, and avoiding sticky things. But my baby is finally back on track. Today he shared with me without retracting his hand before it touched mine. He was able to play a rock in my hand that he had found smile and carry on with his play. To some they are still stuck on the delay *GASP*...but what I am stuck on is that my baby for the first time, reached out and held his Mommy's hand.

My Precious

My precious baby boy.
My heart.
The fruit of my womb.
I kept you safely inside my belly for 40 weeks and it was I that pushed you into this world.
My precious forgive me for all the pain you have endured,
every single fall,
every tear you have shed, any fear or uncertainty of things to come.
Forgive the breif moments when I walk away and the anxiety you face
because you are unsure if I will return
Or the lullabies that rock you to sleep for you to be awakened to see
even if only for a breif moment
I am not there.
Or the times when you need me to comfort you
to hold you close and shut out this big scary world
I pat your head and tell you "You are a big guy, you will be all right".
Forgive me for being busy on the phone,
or fatigued...
I now never want to leave you alone.
If I could take your frustration away,
carry your cross,
this burden I would gladly bear.
It is times like these that I feel weak
fall to my knees and
call out to the Lord in prayer.
If there is a merciful God
whom honors my hard work
and faith,
oh please take this cup from our lips.
I have had my fill of heart ache,
bad news and heart breaks
truly our cup is filled to the brim.
I would surely wither away if worst comes to worst
results confirming my fears.
I just cannot bear to cast this lot on my precious
For he is innocent naive and confused...
My precious I love you so,
I hope to advert such a painful blow...
I cannot bear it.
I love you.
My precious son

Noah Consuelo

Little Old Asian Man

Today I was furious. I cannot remember why I was so furious, but in my anger I decided to be proactive. Do something that was going to make me feel good about myself. I wanted to go to a bar and get a drink alone, but realized I didn't have my debit card which made me even more angry. I was so heated I was sweating then I realized it was because the A/C wasn't on, just the vents blowing hot outside air IN my car which angered me even more. I turned on the radio for some encouragement...Mahalia Jackson...I love gospel but I wasn't in the mood for her slave like crooning at this moment of rage. I found myself pulling across two lanes of traffic into Pikes Peak Community College. I really didn't WANT to go inside I could just as easily have pulled away, because after all the sprinklers were on spraying the sidewalk instead of the grass which was the only way to get in...but I was so furious I figured I was gonna go ahead and go in. What the hell I may as well get even more pissed. I angrily slammed my door, angrily power walked into the building. 94 degrees on top of my fury made it 110 outside. In my anger I dunno how I noticed the little old Asian man, I kept looking at the group of losers outside the front of the buildings huddled up smoking even though the sign posted behind them clearly stated they were closer than the designated 50 feet. I really hate the smell of cigarette smoke and wanted to yell something witty at them but figured since it was a group of men I would be better off keeping my opinion to myself. I am always afraid someone will rape and assault me for saying something so I continued to walk. I noticed my underwear are getting to small due to the uncomfortable riding up my ass, either my undies are too small or my ass is getting too big but I haven't been on a scale so I have no idea. My stomach was growling I realized I had only eaten half a bowl of cereal which my son stuck his hand inside and finished the rest, which is probably why I felt so faint. Then I looked up and noticed a little old Asian man fighting so hard to pick himself up from the sidewalk. He had dropped his backpack and his cane had flown six feet under a vehicle. I noticed several people had briskly walked ahead of him. A police cruiser had driven by without even noticing him as well. I am trained to keep my eyes forward and keep going. He kept muttering something and trying to pull himself up. I get all these chain emails about seniors raping stupid women like myself. In that moment I figured why not, I'd rather get raped by him than the stupid people against the building smoking.
"Are you okay," I asked stopping just short of his reach as he continued to struggle he didn't look up just continued to try to pull himself up on the car he was clenching to.
"Yes. I'm fine," he mumbled still staggering to the pull himself up. He was trembling with all his might. I realized he couldn't rape me. I reached out for his cane, he nodded and reached for it. He gave a relieved smile pulled himself together.
'Do you need any help?' I asked. He mumbled no. I noticed all the smokers were staring I threw them a smug glare. They were even bigger douches. I hurried off seeing as the old man was on his feet and hurried past the spray of the sprinklers. I cannot believe people. I guess that is life. Ignoring the little old Asian man. I wonder how long he sat there struggling before my angry black ass came along? I don't know. I have no idea if that was a life lesson. It happened in all of ten seconds and I went about my day. As I was looking for the correct office to enter...behind me I heard a female open the door for the little old Asian man...what she said bothered me. She said, "I saw you out there on the ground, its a lot cooler in here, huh?"
WTF...she saw him on the ground and let him struggle there but was kind enough to get the door for him. Where was his family? Why was he at that school? I don't know. I guess I was at the right place at the right time today. I am glad to have helped him.