Posts from the ‘Change’ Category

Movin’ On (Round 2)

The time has come.

The time is now.

For me to be packin’ up and movin’ on.

Yippee!

You may remember that for my 30th birthday, which wasn’t at all scary by the way, Rob and our friend Stuart gave me my domain http://dailymommysurvival.com as a gift. (Thanks again guys!) And that my friends, my readers, followers, and family is where you will find all things good, bad and indifferent in the Land of Lizze. From this point hence, please follow the bouncing ball over to

http://dailymommysurvival.com! 🙂

Yay!

(Oh and please excuse the mess over there as I am still working to get things “just right”. Don’t you just love OCD? lol)

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Power Surge

There’s currently a power surge running through my living room. “Running” isn’t accurate. “Jumping” is better. Plus, I don’t know a whole lot about power and power surges but I would think that energy being live current that it would jump etc. That’s what’s going on here.

Its totally been one of those days with Gavin. Everything was fine until Emmett John and I got home from taking the ‘Big Man on Campus’ (aka Elliott Richard) to Day Camp.

We got home. I parked the car and got out. Then I heard it. A tiny little voice from above, calling my name.

“Hi, Mommy! Look Mommy! Hi!”

I wasn’t lucky enough for the voice to belong an Angel of Mercy. It was Gavin.

Standing.
In.
His.
Window.

Otherwise known as standing on the sill and leaning into/onto the window.

That’s dangerous enough but when he’s jumping on that same window sill…it’s a miracle he hasn’t fallen through the window!

Unfortunately, this set the tone for his entire day.

{This post was found on my phone unpublished. (Oops!) So this happened a few days ago, not Saturday, July 2, 2010.}

* posted on the fly w/o the use of proper editing tools 😉 *

~ Lizzeann

Howdy Howdy Howdy

Welcome to Ewe’s Not FAT, Ewe’s Just Fluffy! =)

My name is Lizze. Some of you may know me from my other blog Daily Mommy Survival. Some of you may not. Either way, thanks for stopping by.

Anywho, where was I? Ah yes, I’m Lizze. I’m about to turn 30 in a few weeks. I’ve been married to my darling husband for almost 7 years but we’ve been together for 9 years. We have 3 wonderful boys ages 10, 4 and 2. A dog and 3 cats.

I have Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue and possibly Narcolepsy (they are still trying to figure that one out). I also have chronic migraine headaches, which require Depakote to attempt to prevent. The best part about the Depakote is the fact that it causes me to gain weight. (That was sarcasm, by the way. I tend to be very sarcastic. lol)

Between the Depakote, left over baggage from 3 pregnancies – 2 of them on complete bed rest – and my complete lack of physical activity…I still look 4-5 months pregnant! This is unacceptable. So I started this blog to track my journey to a healthier, skinny me. =)

Chit-chat with Dr. P

Elliott Richard had his bi-weekly appointment with Dr. P, aka Patty, last night. It was mainly a Question and Answer session for me and catch up night for her and Elliott Richard.

I had the opportunity to ask a few questions about my circumstances with Sue, my therapist/counselor, since Patty is the Psychologist “in charge of/over-seeing” my case. A few weeks ago Sue had said I was “too smart for therapy” then she asked me “what I hoped to gain from therapy”. To me, this sounded and felt like she was thinking that therapy isn’t going to help me or that she’s in over her head and can’t help me. I really like Sue and I feel like she is a really good match for me. But I don’t have enough time, energy or sanity to spend it seeing a therapist/counselor who is questioning her ability to help me, ya know?

So Patty and I discussed my questions and concerns. And I decided to have a frank conversation with Sue reminding her of the things I need for therapy to be effective etc. Then if nothing changes Patty and I will reconvene and go from there and decide what to do.

Then it was time to catch up on Elliott Richard and what’s been going on there. I told her about his Day Camp and how helpful that has been. How the Day Camp has convinced him that school this Fall is going to be a lot of fun.

The last time Elliott Richard and I had seen Patty we discussed why Elliott Richard appeared to be struggling with sleep and being alone. At the time, she felt that Elliott Richard was having such a difficult time sleeping because he was struggling to be alone. Which makes complete sense because he struggles to even play alone or be alone.

Day Camp is helping him by leaps and bounds with that. He’s sleeping better unless he has a nightmare, which is understandable. But he sleeps better. He’s slowly learning to play alone. He’s always been opinionated but he’s learning better ways to voice his opinions. It’s amazing!

This is the kind of thing, I’ve always dreamed of as a mother. Having the opportunity to watch this kind of change in my son. The opportunity to watch him grow as an individual.

It makes my heart feel good.

I hope and pray that I will have many more experiences like this in the future. It almost makes me feel like…maybe I’m not a complete failure as a mother. Maybe I’m just a little bit better at this parenting gig than I realize.

It gives me hope and just a little bit of faith…in myself as a mother and a parent in general.

* posted on the fly w/o the use of proper editing tools 😉 *

~ Lizzeann

Things I’ve learned this week

This week I’ve learned…

…there are actually doctors out there who care about their patients.

…some hospitals are actually better than others.

…4 year olds are very sure of what they want…until they aren’t.

…when you are a 2-3 month old kitten, a fly and the computer cursor appear very similar.

…when you are a 2-3 month old kitten, attacking the computer cursor is unacceptable.

…when you are a 2-3 month old kitten, pouncing on the dog to get to the fly is also unacceptable.

…car accidents change everything and it doesn’t matter how long you haven’t been on speaking terms with your parents and family or why it began in the first place.

…that you can always go home even when home has changed.

…once you are “Daddy’s Little Girl” you are always “Daddy’s Little Girl”.

…there is nothing quite like getting a hug from your parents.

…that Mommy’s and Daddy’s get hurt too. Even mine.

…that sometimes Daddy’s don’t like to take their medicine and need to be “reminded” by their Little Girls.

…there are few things greater than the act of forgiveness.

…time heals some wounds and changes perspective on others.

and the last thing I learned this week…the act of giving birth doesn’t define someone as a mother. It is the act of loving and caring for a child the best you are able.

Well I didnt see that one coming!

After 9 months (give or take) of not having contact with nearly all of my adoptive family, I’m not only speaking to my parents again but I’ve been to their new home. Unfortunately, it took my parents being in a horrible car accident for this to happen.

I’m not gonna lie though, when I hugged my Daddy tonight and burst into tears it was nice to have him comfort me and tell me “I love you”. I’ve waited a very long time for that hug and those words.

But I’ll update with details tomorrow. Afterall, its nearly 4:30am and I just got home and haven’t even been to bed yet.

* posted on the fly w/o the use of proper editing tools 😉 *

~ Lizzeann

Honesty: My Story: Dear Mary,

Dear Mary,

I watched Glee tonight with Rob. I *heart* Glee! It’s one of, if not my absolute favorite non-cop/criminal related shows. Tonight part of the plot was about Rachel and her search for her birth mother who gave her up for adoption to a gay couple. Only it wasn’t so much Rachel’s search as it was Rachel’s Birth Mother’s desire to know her daughter.

I used to daydream about a reunion like that for us. You would look for me. Then we would be reunited. And have a happy reunion. A  happy relationship. Sure, it would be bumpy at first and bumpy at times because all relationships are sometimes. We would be okay though. We would still be family though.

What I don’t understand is; twice now in my life, you’ve pretended you wanted to know me. Twice now you’ve started to get to know me. The second time you went so far as to meet my family. Only to blow me off in the end.

That’s right, twice now you’ve done this to me! What the hell???? What is so wrong with me? Why is it that you said that you would get rid of my other three siblings if that’s what it took to keep me away from you? You blow me off and I don’t bother you. I don’t talk to you. I don’t have anything to do with you once you blow me off. I pretend as if you don’t exist. You are dead to me. I only speak your name to my sister, my husband or my therapist when I’m trying to make sense of your insanity. Something that’s truly pointless to do because really I’m a sane person seeking to make sense of the insane. Although this actually brings me to something I need to speak with you about.

You blew me off. You cut me out of your life over some imagined thing I had done. Not to you, mind you but to Trisha or Charissa – you weren’t sure which. The last thing you said to me on the phone was:

Me: I’m not going to keep defending myself when it doesn’t do any good and all it does is anger you more.

You: I can’t talk to you anymore! I’ll call you back when I’m not so angry!

Then you hung up on me. That was 2 or 3 days before Easter and you still haven’t called me back. Despite the fact that I had called you a few times and you ignored my calls. I had texted you a few times as well – all ignored. The only text you didn’t ignore was the “Happy Easter” text I sent mostly out of some sick sense of guilt because technically you are my “mother” and “I should”. I didn’t expect a response. Imagine my surprise when I received “Same to you”. I guess technically that was the last thing you ever said to me – “Same to you”.

I hate you for that. For getting my hopes up the second time. I fought against it. Especially because I had Rob and Trisha this time. I didn’t have that kind of protection the first time around. But this time, I had the benefit of Rob to back me up and pick me up when I fell – and I did. I also had the benefit of Trisha’s lifetime of experiences with you. Even with all that, I still got my hopes up. Between text messages, your willingness to help with Gavin, the few times you took me to breakfast…Can I just talk about those few times we had breakfast or lunch together?

I was like a star-struck kid. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. I was sure that if I made one wrong move you would write me off again because I had embarrassed you or because of some other unknown slight. I even opened up to you about this when we were sitting in the Cafeteria at the Children’s Hospital while Emmett John had his ABR. Do you remember what you said? You said that I couldn’t say the wrong thing or make the wrong move. That I was worrying about nothing and I should stop. Yeah, that worked out well for me, didn’t it? You wrote me off in the end anyway.

I’m going out of order here but it’s my letter and I’ll do what I want to. Besides, let’s be honest for a moment. You read Rob’s blog. You don’t read mine. If you did, you wouldn’t be pumping my sister for information about Emmett John after he fell down the stairs because both Rob and I posted updates. But I digress.

The first time around, I admit my hopes were up from Go! There was no way they wouldn’t be. You were my birth mother. I had been searching for you for 4 years! Posting my information on every free Adoption Registry I could find. Doing anything that looked like it might be the slightest bit helpful to an adoptee searching for her birth family. If another adoptee had told me to dance by the light of a silvery moon and you would appear, full of love and thrilled to see me…I’d have done it.

I didn’t have any protection the first time. I had an ex-mother-in-law who didn’t understand why you mattered. And I had an adoptive family who either hated me for hurting my Adopto-Mom or simply hated me because they viewed what I was doing as an attack on the family. Like they weren’t good enough. A few of them were bold enough to vocalize their opinions – painfully so. Most kept their opinions to themselves and just gave me “looks”. Again, like most things in my life, the only one who even tried to understand me, my motivations, my emotions, or anything else was my Auntie Paula.

Read more…