I need to write about my amazing little boy.

He had surgery yesterday, to remove an extra digit on his hand. He did so well, and was so brave.

It ran 2 hours late, he hadn’t eaten since the night before. Did he whine or cry? Nope. He played with toys, sat on my lap, made his own fun.

When it was time to hand him off to the surgeon, I gave him a squeeze, told him I’d see him in a little while. He smiled at me, and didn’t fuss at all when they took him away.

I bit my nails and freaked out inside my head during. Lucky for me, and him, it was an easy surgery, much easier than anticipated, and only took half an hour. There was another half hour of waiting while he woke up til we could see him.

I walked as fast as I possibly could down the hallway, and what do I find? My beautiful boy sitting in a hospital bed, smiling, and trying to devise a way to escape the bed. I picked him up, gave him 2 cups of juice, he was so thirsty. Once the anesthesia wore off completely, he started crying, latched onto me, and barely let go so I could get him dressed. But, once we were outside the hospital, he was fine.

We took him for a cheeseburger, and he was his normal self. He napped a bit on the long drive home, had a pizza dinner, and went to bed. I’m leaving out where he woke up at 1am and didn’t go back to bed til 330am. Just normal anesthesia stuff. We are both tired today.

I’m so proud of him. My fearless wonderful boy.


Can’t Help It.

You know that feeling where you can’t wait to get out of bed and greet every day with a Disney song? Yeah, me neither.

I have not wanted to move for over a week. I lay on the floor and play with Rogue all day. He loves it, and I don’t have to do a thing. He’s trying to nap right now, but is singing me the song of his people over the baby monitor instead. He has surgery on Monday. Nothing major, but I am stressed and eating my feelings. As usual.

I’m in a mood today. If it were socially acceptable, I’d never shower, get out of my pj’s, or eat anything healthy. Ah, dreams.

Sorry for the attitude.

Slow Down, You Crazy Child.

I’ve been bagging up R’s clothes that he’s outgrown. 2 full bags. I buy too much clothes.

He’s growing so fast. He’s so brave, so fearless. I feel like I’m missing it. I just blinked and he was scooting. Now he runs.

He’s my only child and he’s growing too fast. He’s so funny, so mischievous. I try to remember when he was first born, so little. Barely any hair. He now needs another haircut.

Oh, my baby. You’re a little boy already.


September the 10th.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day.

According to the WHO, 3,000 people commit suicide every year on average. For every person that ends their own life, 20 attempt to.

I don’t know many people who have not been affected by suicide. A few years ago, a family member of mine took his own life. He was several years younger than me and left behind a fiancee. I often wonder what was going on in his life that was so terrible that he felt he had no other choice. I wish I had reached out to him. I wish he had gotten help.

For those who suffer from depression in its many forms, suicide is no stranger to us. Many of us have those thoughts.

I have things that keep me going every day. My son. Courageous people who aren’t afraid to share their experiences. Like Jenny aka The Bloggess, Kim from Mommy Go Something Something, Nicole from Healing Mutti.

It gets better. It does. That darkness that seems to swallow you won’t be there forever. ASK for help. Call 1-800-273-TALK, or go here: http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Your life is too precious.