House of A Writer

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

One Lovely Blog Award Bestowal 

Awhile back I was nominated by the lovely One Mother To Another for this award. I was so touched that she thought so much about my little corner of the blog world. I truly love and adore this Mom and her message of love, acceptance, and solidarity in the blogging community. If we geographically lived any closer I would be hugging her right now, and being entertained by our kids. 

  
 
The Rules

The nominees must share 7 interesting facts about themselves, and display the award on my blog page. 

1. I love to sing as much as reading and writing. I’ve belonged to church choirs, school plays, and choral club when I was in elementary and high school. For a wedding gift for my husband I wrote and recorded a song for him. It was played at our wedding and he was so surprised it was me singing. There were a lot of smiles, hugs, tears, and most of all love shared that day.

  
  2. I’ve known my husband for 30 years we met through my sister after a hockey game he was playing in. It was love at first sight for me but I was only 12 and trying to look and act 16! Fast forward in time, he moved back to my hometown after seeing the world and we started dating and have been together ever since. And now we have built a beautful life with our amazing son’s. Happily ever after really does happen when it’s blessed by love. ❤️ 

  
 3. I have struggled with anxiety and depression all my life. My parents were separated when I was four years old. I internalized a lot of those feelings and that gave birth to my anxiety. My track record for surviving and living with depression has been a long one. I’m grateful for the lessons I’ve learned on my journey. I challenge my anxiety everyday and I try to make friends with “her.” I’m starting to allow myself not to be controlled by “her” and think she can be helpful in my life sometimes and detrimental at others. By saving my life in certain situations, and not allowing me to take risks and challenge myself. 

4. I use my anxiety as a her and she pronoun because I named it. It helps me see things clearly and realize when I’m giving “her” more control over my life and thoughts. I see how “she” and I  have affected my children and I’m feeling the fear in life, and doing it anyways. It feels good to know that I’m conquering my life’s challenges instead of letting them control me. It’s really scary and exhilarating to know there’s more to discover in the world, than how I’m going to control it. 

 
5. I’m writing a book of my life experiences in a memoir. I’ve been shopping around with publishing companies to see where I get the most to offer in terms of marketing and distribution. It is a long term goal, but one I’m confident about bringing it to fruition. 

6. I’m a proud Canadian (if you didn’t know that by now you haven’t been reading my blog). I’ve lived in 3 different provinces in my life and I’ve found beauty and diversity in each one. I’ve taken lots of photographs and I hope to showcase them in a book as well to show others the changing and fascinating landscapes of my beautiful country. 

  

7. I’m as comfortable on stage as being home watching Netflix on family movie night. I feel a real joy in performing and I look forward to auditioning for the next play with my local theatre group. In one of the plays I was in about pioneers and the Gold Rush, written by very talented friend. She heard me sing Danny Boy and cast me immediately. I came to adore that beloved character Nellie Cashman. During my research I found out Nellie and my Great Grandmother were born in the same part of Ireland.They were six years in age difference and could’ve possibly known each other!  I found this so exciting since genelology and history are another love of mine. 

  

Now I’m supposed to nominate fifteen blogs to bestow this honour upon. I read a lot of blogs but I’m going to pick the ones that have been the most supportive to me.  I’m being a rebel and picking five because that’s how many are really close to my heart. After the nominations have been made I’m to let them know they’ve been nominated, and then sit back and enjoy reading their responses. 

1.  Is It Really That Easy  The lovely Laura has offered me such encouragement, and I’m so grateful for her and her support when life gets challenging. I love getting wrapped up in her storytelling, and her kind heart make me smile. ❤️

2. Happy Lifeaholic I had the pleasure of connecting with Adi through her words on her blog. I was captured by her youth, enthusiasm, and love of life and I was eager to follow along on her journey. I also had the pleasure of guest blogging and being featured on her site. She’s an extraordinary woman and the more I read her stories, the more I feel connected to her. 

3. Champa Tree I love her lovely blog and appreciation for the simpler, divine things in life like love, kindness, and appreciation. So many things we as a society can take for granted, and she writes about them so beautifully.  

4. A Momma’s View I love her blog and her kindness to me along my blogging journey. She recently told me about the Courage Challenge and how I should submit a post I had just written about conquering my fear and anxiety. You can read it here Here

5. Silver lining Mama I met this amazing lady in a WordPress Blogging 101 group. And even though we’ve never met in person our hearts have. I found out about her Courage Challenge in February and she was kind enough to feature me on it back then, and most recently. 

All of these wonderful women are very special to me including the fabulous One Mother to Another. I read, comment, and share their blogs. I love their honesty, talent, kindness and the ability to uplift me when I don’t feel very strong and capable. They haven’t known how I’ve prayed for them and thanked God for their online presence in my life, but they do now! Please show their blogs the love that they deserve. ❤️

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Dear Mom, the day I cried when my kettle died

It’s been a rough day with my youngest son who has the SPD (Sensory Processing Disoder) and impending evaluation for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). Transitions are very difficult for him so I made the mistake this morning by saying “let’s get dressed and go do something fun!” I didn’t use his PECS (Picture Example Communication), a visual tool I use so he can see that’s what we’re going to do. Life has been manageable so I just tried talking about it. Big mistake made there, let’s just add that to my ever growing list shall we?

He wouldn’t get dressed so I helped him. Then I got dressed while he undressed. So I sighed audibly and made breakfast. He refused to eat so I turned on the cartoons and went about my online to do list, running my Facebook page and co-admin four others. I carried on with my updates, checking messages, replying to comments, and I looked up to see my son eating. Well that’s one battle avoided. I decided I would get my breakfast and put on the kettle for tea.    

  
I ate, tidied up the kitchen, and went to make my tea. Then I realized my kettle died. All the stress of the morning came to a head and I cried. I burst into tears, and cried till my throat was raw and snot and tears were pouring down my face. I call that the ugly cry of no return. I lost track of how long I cried, my son found me on the floor huddled up into a ball in the fetal position. My Mom bought me that kettle, and it was last gift she ever gave me. It was a painful moment for me the day my kettle died. For a tea lover like me this is a very sad thing! It’s the last gift my Mom gave to me. And now she flies with the angels so I feel the insatiable desire to write about my pain….

  
 I felt so silly crying over a kettle but it’s the memories I have of her and that kettle. Drinking tea, laughing, loving, and sharing our hearts. I miss her so much, and microwave tea water sucks. I just want to sit with my Mom again and babble, banter, and sing like we used to. It doesn’t matter how old we get we just don’t stop needing our parents! Well I’m speaking for myself, but I’ll never forget the day my brother phoned me. He called my cell phone and asked me why I had answered it. I replied “it’s my phone, it rang, so I answered it.” Bitchtastic morning to you too! 

I may need to mention I’m not a morning person. He was trying to get ahold of my husband who he thought would have the phone. I knew my Mom was gone so I voiced it, and he said yes and assured me my husband was on his way home. What my brother didn’t know was that our Mom came to me in a dream. She reached for my hand and called me by the pet name she had for me, I reached back and woke up. Just in time to see her disappearing into the ethers as my phone rang. There I sat on the edge of my bed rubbing my very pregnant belly. I was eight months along, alone, and devastated. 

  
My husband arrived home and gathered me up in a hug while our oldest child slept through it all. I collapsed into my loves chest and soaked his shirt with my tears. I close my eyes now and see it all replaying like a movie in my head. How did I survive that trauma to my heart, psyche, and soul? I gave birth to my baby a month premature and had to keep living, loving, and raising my children. I don’t know if I survived it so to speak, I just didn’t have a choice. My family needed me to recover, to be me even if I was just a mere grieving shell of myself. As I get closer to Mother’s Day I try to remember that it’s important to put myself on my list of priorities. Taking back the me I once was is a gift to myself, and to my family. 

The only thing I would ask for this Mother’s Day would be the gift of time. Wrapped up in beautiful embossed paper I would find a journal and a beautiful pen to write my thoughts in. Recording those days that are so long with sensory meltdowns, those little conversations my son has with his toys about going to the zoo. Remembering how my oldest son used his problem solving skills, instead of screaming out his pain. A gift certificate to my favourite  restaurant where my husband and I could enjoy a date night with each other’s company. A note from a certified special needs caregiver who will stay and look after my children for a few hours of our lives.  

 

*Image found on Pinterest.*

 

 I would love a brand new kettle to make new memories with while sipping my tea and thinking of my Mom. Followed by a gift card to a gardening center to pick up a beautiful plant, soil, and Miracle Grow to plant in my old kettle. A wonderful idea shared by my heart sister friend The Brain. And lastly a box of Kleenex to dry my tears, blow my nose, and a bottle of wine to allow it all to sink in how very blessed I am. 

Happy Mother’s Day to you. ❤️

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To the woman who judged me #mommitment 

To the Mother who judged me, I lay awake thinking of what you said. How you blurted out your casual comment not knowing it was like a serrated knife to my heart. Or maybe you did know that and didn’t care. It felt like you had an agenda the first time you laid eyes on me. We were on a busy commuter bus, going to the same destination; and I thought I’ll never see you again. But I asked you to back off and you didn’t. This is me wearing my heart on my sleeve and pouring out my pain in that moment. 

The Judgement Bus

How can you sit there and judge me? 

While people just stop and stare. 
I’m shocked by what you said to me. 
I didn’t ask you to share. 
You don’t know me or my child, or what’s his story. 
You just spouted off your ignorance and didn’t even say sorry. 
I was staring at the smugness on your face. 
I said he has autism and his meltdown I wanted to erase. 
I didn’t know what to say as my hot tears stung my eyes. 
I could see you watching my child with disgust, which was no surprise. 
I’ve seen people like you where I have to hold my anger inside. 
Buckle up son, it’s the judgment bus coming through. 
And it’s going to be a bumpy ride. 
I won’t let them see that one shining tear. 
As I could fill an ocean of denial.  Sadness lives here. 

As I look back and read this poem, tears are streaming down my face. I recently became a proud member of The Mommitment Movement, dedicated to putting an end to “Mom Wars.” Its mission is to promote love, acceptance, and kindness instead of judgment. 

I’m adopting the motto, ‘I won’t judge you as a Mom, so please don’t judge me.’ We all came into this world the same way, with a beautiful newborn baby – without an instruction manual. The experience I had on the bus made me realize how much I have to reinforce this positive message in my life. I immediately wanted to hurt her like she hurt me and my pride. My son wasn’t even bothered; just happy to have a seat, and to watch life out the window.  I won’t change my thinking, my thin skin, or the fact that I wear my heart on my sleeve. I will abide by this code in my backyard, while I tend to the flowers I’m growing. I’ll respect your right to tend to your flowers however you see fit. 

After the bus incident, I’m more committed to Mommitment than ever. I can’t change the world around me. I can’t make people accept my son and his special needs. But this is Autism Awareness month, and I can help change his world by spreading more awareness, education, and understanding. Having the force of the proud and powerful Mommitment movement along with a parenting support network behind me, I finally don’t feel so alone on this journey. 

To learn more about this game changing campaign, please read the post that started it all.   

And here you can sign the pledge and be part of Mommittment. ❤️

Next Life, NO Kids
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Fridays Feats and Fails

It’s Friday one day closer to the weekend and wow what a week it’s been!!! I’m excited to share it with you. So let’s get to it shall we? I’m so happy and honoured to be co-hosting Friday’s Feats and Fails with the awesome Ash from www.morethancheeseandbeer. This is a new adventure for me so I feel giddy with excitement. ???

FEAT-Amazing Grace

My beautiful cousin brought her baby into the world and I haven’t stopped crying since! Amazing Grace was diagnosed in utero as having mosaic triploidy. According to Wikipedia.org research Triploid syndrome is an extremely rare chromosomal disorder. Individuals with triploid syndrome have three of every chromosome, i.e. a total of sixty-nine rather than the normal forty-six chromosomes. There are only sixty recorded cases across the world. Thanks to the research I found on www.mommiesofmiracles.com I’m understanding a lot more. These children are blessings, and although there genetically different abled, they are beautiful gifts to the world. 

A Mother’s Love ?

Amazing Grace was brought into the world on Tues, March. 10 th at 6:04 am she had a healthy delivery and Mom and baby have been doing well. Grace had a defect with her heart diagnosed in utero and no one has known how long she would be earth side. After receiving a heart scan yesterday my cousin was happy to report this morning, that there are NO signs of the defect!!! God is creating miracles for my family daily as Amazing Grace has been defeating the odds against her since her conception. Just yesterday she opened up her eyes for the first time her Uncle held her. Oh and what a beautiful moment that was!  There has been an amazing photographer that has been capturing Grace’s journey with her Mom and Dad. All images are by Love by Krista Evans Photography and she and my cousin have allowed me to share them with you today. ?

A Father’s Love ❤️

I read all the updates eagerly each moment that my cousin posts them. Today Grace will have a brain scan as she was also diagnosed with agenisus of corpus callosum. According to research from Wikipedia.org (ACC) is a rare birth defect (congenital disorder) in which there is a complete or partial absence of the corpus callosum. It occurs when the corpus callosum, the band of white matter connecting the two hemispheres in the brain, fails to develop normally, typically during pregnancy. 

Amazing Grace is being tested and evaluated in preparation to going home! She’s  classified as a strong baby, despite the disorders and her early arrival of eight days before her due date. The amount of love and prayers that are surrounding Grace and her parents is incredible! Thanks to Krista at Love by Krista Evans Photography 12,000 people have seen my family’s pictures. To me that means that 12,000 people are joining in prayer power! You can view Krista’s amazing body of work here:

https://www.facebook.com/lovebykristaevansphotography


The love, pride, and powerful energy emanating from this family fills my heart to the brim. ?

FAIL

I’ve been keeping as positive as I can considering how precious life really is. And my own son has to undergo genetic testing for Fragile X and ASD. According to Wikipedia.org Fragile X  is a genetic syndrome. Nearly half of all children with fragile X syndrome meet the criteria for a diagnosis of autism.[1] It is an inherited cause of intellectual disability especially among boys. It results in a spectrum of intellectual disabilities ranging from mild to severe as well as physical characteristics. I’ve had my moments when I’ve dissolved into tears, yelled, cursed, and locked myself away in my pity party of one.

My incredible family has shown me I can have those moments but I just can’t unpack and live there. So other than not cleaning since last weekend, not keeping up with folding my laundry as that relentless bitch is owning me. I’ve been enjoying the sunshine, adventuring with my kids, and counting my blessings. And really appreciating the miracles in life like Amazing Grace’s journey with her phenomenal parents. The strength they’ve shown has been remarkable. In my cousins words to prepare for a life half way through pregnancy, then a possible death, back to preparing for her baby’s life is an extraordinary blessing. I know God will continue to watch over and bless them as they are all miracles of the heart.  ?

Amazing Grace.?

FEAT

My Captain’s hockey play off round ended for him last Saturday. It was a disappointing loss with some questionable referee calls that ended in a 2-1 loss. It was an exciting game, but I’ll be honest and say this part of being a hockey Mom really sucks. It was so hard to see those disappointed expressions on those sweet children’s faces. They played a great game though and they still have their practices, parents against the kids game, and windup party to look forward too. It was Father son time the next day as my husband took our Captain to work. They both looked so handsome as they dressed up in a shirt and tie. I haven’t seen my son dressed up since his first communion last year. It struck me how fast he’s growing up! I’m so proud of his accomplishments on and off the ice. ❤️

I have so much pride for my Captain and his team. ?

We also had a major accomplishment as my little Mad dog and I attended the play group specifically for children with special needs. He loved it there as it was fun and manageable with a small group of kids. The most touching moment was when my son thanked me for his happy. I was in awe of him and his gift of understanding in the moment. After the group we attended the indoor playground and he did very well being around more children and some noise. We were both happy to nap when we got home. ?

“Thank you for my happy Mommy.”

So here we are back to Friday and since our Netflix is M.I.A. due to Mad dog resetting all the information we’ll be watching movies. My wonderful husband picked up Night at the Museum for family movie night and Mocking Jay Part 1 for after they go to bed. Thank you for being here today and please check out everyone else’s post who links up today. ?

That’s my Friday’s Feats and Fails how’s your week been?

This is going to be an amazing weekend of watching the currents and the classics. ??


It’s link up time! Don’t mind the HTML code I couldn’t convert it back to text just click on the link below that say inlinkz. ?

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Writer’s Quote Wednesday’s 



Amazing Grace came into the world so precious and sweet. 

Loved already with great devotion and adoration. 

With these beautiful curls and teeny, tiny, little, feet. 

I witnessed a Mother’s love, a Father’s pride as they held her skin to skin. 

And family was to be wrapped up in joy with this little gift. 

Not knowing how long she’d be earth side, each day is a win. 

I look at these beautiful images, and they give my heart a lift.  

I play them over and over again feeling the tenderness in my heart and mind.

Amazing Grace you’re the greatest blessing the world could ever find. ?

I wrote this for my beautiful cousin who gave birth to her amazing Grace just this week. She was born with a genetic condition called mosaic triploidy. It’s not certain how long this little blessing will have on the earth. One thing I know it will be filled with so much love, that her little heart can hold. This is my submission to http://silverthreading.com for Writer’s Quote Wednesday. Please check out all the talent who link up. Thank you. ?

*Image used with permission from my cousin and Love By Krista Evans Photography. Special thanks to them both for allowing me to share this journey.*

You can check out her amazing body of work at https://www.facebook.com/lovebykristaevansphotography

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Aware

I don’t know when the day was or how the feeling came to be, but I’ve always been aware that I was different. I wasn’t a shy child, I had an insatiable curiosity about life. I wanted to know about people, what made them tick, their likes and dislikes. Before I was born my Gram told my Mom I would be special. So on the day I made my arrival my Mom, Dad, and Gram were tossing around names for me. My Mom suggested Lisa, my Dad liked it but my Gram said no I will name her after a movie star I just seen in a magazine. So my fate was decided then and there. I always wanted to be an actress I knew enough about old Hollywood and the silver screen then any other five year old did. 

My friends at school didn’t know who any of my favourites were and thought I was weird since their minds were on Star Wars, Mork and Mindy, and Disney. I enjoyed these movies and tv shows too but there was a whole other wonderful world that awaited me in the movie pictures. My Mom encouraged my love of the classics in cinema and literature and  relished  each with joy. Not to many eight year olds could quote Shakespeare and discuss Charles Dickens and know what they were prattling on about.  I could though, and my Mom and Gram called me their old soul. It was a wonderful way to grow up, it was like I had a secret life that I could share with the adults I loved. 

I also seen auras around people, and at a young age I called them rainbows. I thought everyone could see them. I also had visitations from some people I knew and many I didn’t. I still remember the day I saw my friend crying over her dog that had died. I said it’s ok he’s not really gone, he’s sitting on your lap. My Mom got a phone call about that exchange and I had to pretend that my imagination got the best of me. Some friends just accepted that’s how I was without questions. My Mom protected me the best she could in my reality but in my dreams no one could. I seen things I never wanted to see, visions of things that scared me and some things that gave me happiness. 

When did I become aware of the fact I am empathic you may ask? I think it was when I was seven years old. I realized not everyone could see the “rainbows” around them or others. And a lot of people got uncomfortable around me when I discussed them. So I just learned to be quiet and not tell anyone I had a gift. It was something special I shared with my Mom, Gram, and her family. I still remember the stories my sweet Gram would tell me of her Mother’s visions. 

There was a time when my Gram was quite young and working as a housekeeper at a hotel. Her bosses loved her and doted on her. Then one night she went out of town for a dance. She had gone out on a group date as was the style back then, and her sister accompanied her. They had a fabulous time and were coming back into town since both of them had to work the next day. There was a car accident and down went the car over the side of the cliff. My Gram told me all she remembered seeing was a white light and floating. She woke up in a bed in the hotel she worked at being cared for by her bosses wife. 

My Gram came from a family of nine and all the children lived at home and worked to support the family. So her boss and his family decided they would look after her, and wouldn’t let my Great Grandma know what had happened to her. They had to avoid this because she had a very bad heart, and they were afraid that the shock would kill her. After several weeks while my Gram was being nursed back to health from a broken neck, my Great Grandma was tired of the excuses of not seeing her daughter. So she marched up to the hotel and demanded to see her. Luckily my Gram was on the mend but little did she know that her Mom knew something was wrong as she dreamt about the accident happening! 

I’ve always had the sight, the Irish eye is what my Gram called it. It was passed down from my ancestors to my Gram, to my Mom, and to me. I have relatives that have a strong psychic nature. It’s something I’ve passed down to my own children as well. And the older I get the stronger it becomes. The same thing happened to my Mom as she went from being clairvoyant to clairaudient and clairsensient. A transition that gradually happened as she had spent her whole life being connected to the spirit world. I’ve paid attention to this sixth sense, this inner knowing all my life. It’s much a part of me as my blonde hair and blue eyes. 

I’m aware that not everyone will understand it and fear me or my gift. It is human nature to fear the things we don’t know, or understand. The spirit of God always guides me to like minded people who share the gift or want to learn more about it. I always know when there’s good people and not so good people. I can feel vibrations in speech, energy patterns, and in conversation. I don’t hang out my shingle and set up shop for readings like some people do. I know when I’m guided to help someone as the energy vibration will lead me to them. 

I’m very grateful that God blessed me and my family with a psychic sense. My Mom always told me to never fear it, but not to abuse it either. She said a great responsibility comes from using the sense properly. And that’s what I teach my children as well. A gift from God is to be used to help, heal, and never to harm or hinder. So I keep my thoughts to myself even when I see or I’m aware of the outcome. It’s like a present that gets unwrapped when I need it. But I’m always watchful, careful, and aware of my surroundings as to who’s watching me. 

This has been my submission to Sunday confessions of www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Please check out her confession, the anonymous ones on her Facebook, and all the other talent who link up. Thank you for stopping by. ?

 

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Pink shirt day

This has been my submission to https://lindaghill.com One liner Wednesday. Today I support anti bullying awareness and advocate for my children always. ?

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Ode to my Mom

Elizabeth Louise was her name.
Loved by everyone who knew her.
Intrinsically gifted with humour and the gift of gab.
Zealous with her love, honesty, and faith.
Amazing with her glowing light of virtue and trust.
Beautiful beyond measure inside and out.
Eloquently soft spoken with a sharp wit.
Talented, gifted, devoted to the ones she loved.
Heart of gold, my best friend, and heroine of my dreams.

This is a poem for my beloved Mama. She was my gift, to my siblings, and the world. Today I wrote this poem for her as part of my Day 3 Blogging 201 assignment. The word trust was the prompt and in the acrostic form of poetry.

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A Mother’s guilt

I’m at my wits end with my oldest son. He said he had a sore throat so I let him stay home from school. The rules are rest, rehydrate, and relax. He had helped clean up the basement so I allowed him a movie with his little brother. I’m upstairs cleaning, laundry, dishes and I go to check on him and he’s downstairs playing video games. I walk into the room and he’s pretending to be sleeping!!!! I told him get up and go to bed. He starts to argue that he was having quiet time because his little brother didn’t want to watch a movie.

So I sent him to bed and I continued folding laundry. Then I can hear him out of his room. I’m ready to lose it I’ve sent him to bed twice and he’s come back out. First he was playing hockey with the Mad dog so I said get to bed! He says I’m hungry; then get your food and get to bed!!!! So he says forget it I’ll just starve you don’t care! So then he’s there for 10 minutes and he comes back out again to ask his brother to go downstairs to watch a movie. Get the $@@% to bed now I bellow!!!!

What is wrong with my kid? He won’t listen, he doesn’t respect me, then he tells me he’s getting yelled at school by five people. And one is supposedly his teacher. Well I’ll be addressing this and I will be sending him to school tomorrow because if I don’t I might just duct tape his mouth shut!!!!!
I don’t know where I went wrong we used to be so close. Then I was so sick and sad when I was pregnant with his brother. I carry a lot guilt because my Mom died then I had my baby five weeks later.

Due to the premature birth he had to stay in the hospitals NICU. When I was finally realized after five days, I still went back and forth to the hospital to care for my baby. This is when I feel the disconnect happened. My son was grieving the loss of my Mom, me not being there, and then a little brother who was sick. What had happened in his little world was too much so he turned to his Dad as his saviour and protector. That’s when it all changed between us.

His attitude changed towards me and jealously set in because I was always with my baby. Even though he adored his baby brother. It didn’t matter how much that new love was blossoming and growing, he had lost a part of his Mom. I had to be strong, stoic, and a rock for my children. Meanwhile I was dying and falling apart into little broken, jagged pieces. My heart was shattered I lost my one and only one and I felt like a part of me had died too! Not something a four year boy could understand with his precious heart. So I put my grief on hold to deal with his.

I thought I was doing the right thing as I struggled with intense grief of my own, sleep deprivation, and adjusting to an anti depressant. I didn’t want to be that parent that checked out when my kids needed me the most. It was bound to happen, as I just felt like I was a medicated brain and a body barely able to function. I honestly don’t know how I got through that difficult time. Grief recovery, family, friends, my husband and the love of my sons all played a role.

Life within that little bubble of calm helped me exist. As my body and my brain began to connect as I adjusted to my medication. But my little boy changed as his brother grew up. He got more abrasive with me, his angry tantrums became longer, and I went into research mode. If I don’t understand something I will read until I do. I read books, listened to lectures, attending parenting workshops. In order to understand what had happened to my son. I wish I had looked more into neurology than maybe I could see the early signs of his brain changing.

The ADHD behaviours, dyspraxia, and Sensory Integration disorder were there. He was just so much like me sensitive with an explosive temper that I just saw pain, grief, and jealously. This is when the switch happened, and when I had to fill out recent questionnaires about these behaviours it was hard to hold back the tears. I cried for that little boy who lost his Grandma, Mom, and gained a baby brother. I cried for my lack of understanding, the turmoil, and stress that cyclones around me.

And most of all I cried for that broken relationship between a Mother and her first born. I pray I can repair it before it’s too late and I lose his love and kindness forever. That’s a Mother’s guilt always wearing my heart on the outside of my body. So here I am today parenting through the pain and loving myself and my family with everything I have. Praying for that change to patch my oldest son’s heart back together. That’s Motherhood both beautiful with the moments of cherished gazes and spoken words of I love you. And crushing defeat and frustrating when those words turn to you don’t care, you don’t love me. I put my eyes on the prize and slowly, but carefully walk that tightrope of love and hate for myself.

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Through my Mamas eyes

I look in the mirror and I see my Mom’s face looking back at me. I have her kind, blue, shining eyes, her strong prominent nose, and her lovely lips that spoke the kindest words and covered my boos boos with her kisses. I look at her and want to dive into that mirror and live a thousand lifetimes with her again. Say all the words that were never spoken, ask all the questions I was afraid to ask, and hold her and never let her go. I talk to my Mom always, she knows my daily life, my passions, my cursing jags, and the tears I cry when I’m giving into my pain. She sees my smile and laughter when I’m playing with my precious sons. My acrobatic acts while playing Wii, my screams and giggles when wrestling with them on the floor, and the loving prayers we say at night. She knows their habits, their idiosyncrasies that make them so special and unique. And I know she’s there watching always and cheering them on in their victories. By giving them ethereal hugs and high fives, and always her love and pride. I know she holds me through my sadness, picks me up when I’ve fallen down, and chastises me for how much I drink. ? It’s the things that make me thing that she’s not really gone. And when I’m feeling pure abundant joy she’s there dancing with me, singing silly songs with my kids, and feeling my heart grow with love for them everyday. I see her, I hear her, and I feel her nearby. She’s never far from my thoughts, my heart, or my soul. She bathes me in her kindness, compassion, and strength. My Mom lets me know she’s there with angel messages, birds, butterflies, and music. I hear an Elvis song when I’m deep in thought and grief over her. I feel that love she has for me as I listen to the sweet, soft, melody of Love Me Tender sung so beautifully by her favourite idol. I feel comfort at these times knowing she’s always here with me. And she shares the love with my other siblings and their families. My Mom had the greatest capacity to love, she also could swear a blue streak when she wasn’t feeling in love with something or someone. She could reduce me to laughter in minutes when she’d get into one of her cursing tirades. She would look at me with fury in her eyes but a smile creeping into her lips. It was easy to love and laugh so easily with her. And difficult to stay angry for very long as we were so much alike. To Mom a bad day could be cured with a nice cup of tea, a pastry, laughter, and the gift of song. She was an enigma once you spent time with her you were changed forever. She had a gift of the gab, a flair for the dramatic, and a beautiful voice whether she was singing or speaking. I’d love to sing with her again like those carefree days and feel that power of music uplifting my soul. Instead I have to settle for looking in the mirror and have her smiling back at me. Love you Mama always and forever. ?

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Image found on Facebook and shated here because I agree!

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