Posts from the ‘Gratitude’ 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)

We have a 1st word!!!!

You read that correctly – Mr. Emmett John has finally said his FIRST WORD at 24 months of age!!!

Doggie! =D

* 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…

Little victories

I’m trying to learn to appreciate the little victories in our lives in the hope that it will help me retain a bit more of my sanity. With that in mind, I present to you

Today’s Little Victory:

A few weeks ago Grandma and Pa-Pa G gave us a pair of really nice, blue goggles to use during Tubby Time. All three of the Boys is “terrified” of water and they completely flip-out if water gets on their faces; forget about the fit they throw if the water gets in their eyes. So we were hoping the goggles would help Tubby Time sound less like we were murdering them and more like, well, bath time. All three have been wearing them around the house to get used to how they feel since Grandma and Pa-Pa G gave them to us.

Today Gavin tried them out in the shower.

Until now his version of “rinsing” his hair was he washed it and then got out of the shower all sudsy; at which point he would use his towel to wipe the soap off of his hair. For a long time Rob and I couldn’t figure out how his hair smelled clean but looked dirtier than when he’d gotten in the shower in the first place. Turns out he was terrified of getting soap and water in his eyes.

For today, our Little Victory is that the goggles worked and Gavin actually rinsed his hair and his head, face and neck.

And that’s all I’m trying to worry about: Today’s Little Victories.

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

~ Lizzeann

A Message to my MOTHER (part 2)

Thank you.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for everything you did for me.
Thank you for everything you gave up for me.
Thank you for not killing me – even though you had every right to do so more times than either one of us can count. lol
Thank you for supporting me.
Thank you for every time you protected me.
Thank you. I never said it enough back then. And now I doubt I say it enough. So thank you Mommy. I love you.

(This is a blog from my old MySpace Blog. Elliott Richard was only a few months old and changes in my daily duties along with the crazy, raging hormones had me seriously thinking about motherhood and how I behaved as a teenager. This is one of a few attempts to express that to my Mommy Dearest. I love you Mom!)