Sunday, October 25, 2015

I Have a Special Needs Child

There are times I feel like I am failing as a mother. Sometimes think I am an awesome mom. At times I feel overwhelmed with four kids. Other times I bask in the beautiful chaos. 

Sometimes I don't care my son has a developmental disability....

Sometimes I say "he is who he is". I cheer every small triumph. I remember that the baby they prepared me to never walk or talk, walks and talks. I don't care that not everyone understands him or that his movements are stiff. I am blinded by his big smile, gorgeous eyes, that big kind heart and he can do no wrong (well almost). 

Sometimes I care a lot. I cry because he isn't able to do things the way my other kids do. That he has less options and has to work three times as hard as other kids. I get angry when the speech lady tells me "he physically is unable to make the k sound so we are moving on from it". I feel physical pain when my own family says he won't get married and have children, because he talks about when he has babies and he wants to marry the beautiful little girl in his class. 

Sometimes I am overflowing with gratitude for the village I have helping me raise my kids. The grandparents, aunts, uncles and close friends who always have my back and never let us fail. 
Sometimes I am jealous of other moms...

Moms who don't have to deal with what we have, I don't even mean moms of "typically" developing kids. I am jealous of other moms of kids with special needs. (Not sure jealous is the right word but I will leave it there until I find the right word to express my feeling, if there is one) The moms of kids with a true diagnosis. Who know why their child is different and have support groups and communities to back them up. They have other moms who have been there.
My son doesn't have a true diagnosis. The geneticists, neurologists, pediatricians, the physical, occupational and speech therapists, the mounds of other medical staff we have met with all agree he has a genetic disorder. He has very specific structural abnormalities. He is consistently two and half years behind intellectually and emotionally. There is something definitely "wrong". Yet they found no mental retardation on their scans and every single type of test some of the best geneticist in our state threw at him all came back negative. Finally they sat me down and said he has something that probably only one a million people have, that there is "nothing left to test for". Nothing left. No answers. Nothing to research. Nothing to prepare us for what to expect as he grows and changes. Just nothing. 

He is who he is. One in a million. That's ok...sometimes. 


Thursday, September 19, 2013

I Have to be Beautiful

It's no secret I struggle with confidence. When people tell me I am beautiful I feel embarrassed like they are saying it out of pity or something. I have to find it in my myself, but not just for myself. I gave birth to four of the best looking kids in the world. Two boys and two girls. 
My oldest daughter made me realize I had to stop talking about body image with words like fat and skinny and use the word healthy instead. Still that didn't change my own self image. My second daughter is making me do that. Every single day she looks more like me. From her scrunchy medium sized nose, big cheeks that make her eyes squint when she smiles, to her slightly pushed back jawline, to her squishy arms and sturdy legs to her perfect little oddly shaped toes. She is my mini-me and she is so beautiful. She is one of the prettiest girls in the whole world. She lights up a room and makes my heart swell when she smiles. The way she looks at me a grins when people tell her she looks like her mama. How proud she is to look like me. Like me, the woman who picks herself apart until there is nothing worthwhile left. Who until recently had to fight back tears when some took her picture. Who makes noises of disgust when she looks in the mirror. If I am saying how unattractive I am, how I don't like how I look and think I am not worthwhile what am I telling her? What will she start to hear when people tell her she looks like me? She needs to hear that her mom is beautiful and she is beautiful. So that's it, I just have to be beautiful. Wish me luck figuring that one out!!

Monday, September 2, 2013

I Have Broken Buttons

I find it so fascinating the steps that happen in a bad break up. Usually the worst break ups were once intense, passionate relationships. When things went bad, they went very bad, and you find yourself hating the other person with as much passion as you once loved them. Then one day, it all stops. The feelings end. You just don't even care anymore. That person could stand in front of you pushing all the buttons they have worn out over the years. It won't work though, those buttons are finally broken. For moment, you are sad that it doesn't hurt because at least you felt something for them, as odd as it sounds. This is your starting point. Now you realize you get to choose how you feel, how you react to life is no longer side tracked by a button pusher. Every once in awhile, if your button pusher is very dedicated they will find one that if pushed hard enough will still work. Acknowledge it hurts, move on and realize that button pusher is just an ass. At least in my experience.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

I Am Obsessed

This blog has totally turned away from my crafting adventures. Honestly I have not set foot into my craft room in I don't how long. Maybe one day I can get back to that outlet but with school, kids, and work it will probably be a little while. In the mean time this has turned into my venting space.

I realized today I am obsessed with a lot of things randomly. I am currently burning myself out on Marley's Mellow Mood Green Tea with Honey.

I will never be tired of Justin Timberlake and Jimmy Fallon together it is just a cure for all that worries me somehow. It is just an unexplainable obsession. Seriously though is there anyone who doesn't find them amazing together? Is it just me?
Finally, I have to admit as much as I love country music and the tones of all Gary Allan's songs and the way Tyler Farr says "I'm about to get my pissed of on" in Redneck Crazy, I have a new music obsession. As much as I am terribly ashamed to say it especially after his...whatever the fresh hell that was...with Miley Cyrus, it is Robin Thicke's album, I like it, most of it, I skip a couple tracks. The way I feel about track 8 though, Go Stupid 4 U is the same way Chloe feels about David Guetta's Titanium. TMI? Whoops.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

I Make Changes

I just went through and deleted quite a few blog drafts I have started over the past few months. There were posts about kids making fun of my child with a developmental delay at the gym and how my other children stand up for him and finding out they have lost friends at school because they stood their ground against kids teasing not only their brother but other kids in his special needs class. It made me both proud and sad at the same time. There was an angry post over stretch marks and some stupid Facebook and Instagram posts about how if this woman's body can look like this after kids you have no excuse. No, no mine can't, I have stretch marks all over from 4 kids in 6 years, no matter how hard I try that will not change. Also, I am not necessarily proud of them they are just part of how I got the amazing little people that I am proud of. My stretch marks are ugly to me (I don't care about anyone elses I just don't like mine). I am all for working out and eating right. I don't care about fat, skinny, muscular whatever. Are you healthy? I am working on it. I want to be fit for my health first, but I also feel like my frame looks better with out sooooo much weight on it as well. Which brings me to the next deleted post. I want to feel beautiful. I know my sweet, sweet girlfriends will tell me I don't see what they see, but they see me different because they love me. I want to be beautiful to everyone ME. Maybe if I felt beautiful I would feel better in general. Which leads right into the last deleted post, my divorce. That's right Mr. Clean and I called it quits after almost 12 years of marriage. There is so much I could rant on about there, confidence, jealousy, possessiveness, anger, depression...but really what is the point anymore.
Why didn't I post them? I don't know. Maybe they hurt too much. Maybe it was too personal, although anyone who talks to me for more than five minutes gets an earful from me. While I am not exactly an open book I am an open Cliff Note. I still have my secret thoughts though. Things only one or two people know, some thing's no one in the world knows. I have to have something left to say when I run out of all that other stuff. As much as I don't like how much I share sometimes I know why I do it. I want to be known. I want someone to know me. That I love shoes but hate wearing them, I like inexpensive flowers seeing a $50 bunch of roses die stresses me out but a grocery store bunch of wildflowers would make my day, I would rather be cold than hot, I can't watch embarrassing things on TV, I can't say dirty words, I am 31 but cannot bring myself to say the other words for kitty or rooster to save my life, while I am known as a prude in public I have four kids and a collection of 6 inch heels, you do the math, as much as I love musicals my all time favorite movie is actually Big Fish, I found myself decorating my whole house in the black, white, and red combo like my bedroom and had to rethink everything, I love organizing things but have the hardest time staying organized. Well that is enough about me, what about you?

Sunday, January 27, 2013

I Organize Hair Accessories

 My girls can never ever find anything. They have my issue of putting something away somewhere "safe" and then not remembering where that place is. I am also pretty convinced there is a troll that leaves things in my way when I don't need them then makes them disappear the second I do need them.
One of my goals this week is to get my princesses organized well enough that they may avoid these issues as they grow up. I only hope it is not too late. So today I made them a place to keep all their hair accessories.

 There are a million and one tutorials for headband storage on Pinterest, you can find them here. I am adding mine to the mix. If you follow my blog you know I have a crazy amount of fabric on my hands. You may also know I really only make instant oatmeal, however there was a Nesquick can awaiting recycling. I gathered my fabric (choose something that won't show the can through cause that is ugly), my spray mount that I use to make double sided paper for my custom pinwheels, scissors and can. Cut your fabric big enough to cover the can and edges of can.

 I am not exactly a fan of ironing but it is really worth it to press your edges and make sure the surface it free of wrinkles.


 I used the hot glue gun to attach the fabric at the edge so I didn't have to worry about spraying and positioning at the same time. Then I took it outside and used to piece of old cardboard to prevent any over spray (this stuff is STINKY and STICKY). Little by little I sprayed, pulled tight and smoothed. It is adjustable for roughly the first 20 seconds. I recommend giving the can a pre spray. I over sprayed on the first line and it bled through the fabric. Luckily it dried fairly well and was along the seam which will be placed against the wall anyway. The fabric I chose by chance is incredibly forgiving for this project.
Ugly over spray mark right after it happened.

By the time I finished the rest of the can and brought it in the spot was almost all gone. Then I hot glued the other seam, overlapping the fabric.

Same with the edges along the top and bottom. Going little by little around the bottom, glue and press, glue and press. Keep in mind this is the bottom and you want to sit flat.

The Nesquick can has a little lip around the top which I actually like because I could glue under the lip and press the fabric along the under side so you couldn't see the edge when you look down into it.

Here it is finished and on their dresser. Inside are their hairbrushes and a few clips, and their headbands fit perfect with out stretching!

Friday, January 18, 2013

I Think About it, But I Don't

My Crafty Grandpa (his leather and wood work would shame people, shame them) brought over three Sterile Lite bins of fabric from my late Crafty Grandma. This is in addition to the Home Depot large moving box, the Dell Computer box and the dresser full of fabric I already have. Sigh. I am grateful to have them, I really am. I go through the boxes and examine the fabric and wonder what she was thinking of making when she picked each piece. Then I think, what am I going to do with all this? I don't sew! I begin to wonder if I should get the sewing machine out and give it another try. Maybe enough time has gone by all my bad sewing luck has disappeared. I stare at the sewing machine sitting nicely in its box on the shelf longer than a normal person should. I start thinking:
My girls love the skirts that Queenie makes them cause they are cute and not everyone has one. Whenever their birthdays role around they are excited their Aunt Minnie is probably going to make them a dress or a jumper. Maybe they could be that excited about things I make them. Sure they love all the little bracelets and hair clips I make them, but a piece of clothing would be awesome. I would really be crafty mommy then. They would twirl around in line at school and the other parents would say "That's so cute!" and my girls would say "Thank you, my mommy made it for me" and then they would want me to make dresses for their kids and I would tell them about The House of Random and we would be flooded with orders and I would be sitting at the sewing machine and it would start jamming up and spewing thread at me and ruining beautiful pieces of my grandmothers vintage fabrics and my sleeve would get caught in the machine and the needle would puncture my wrist and I would bleed out and die!!!!!!
After that last thought threw me back into reality, I decided the sewing machine would stay on the shelf a little longer. However, I did talk to Minnie and we decided that we would go in as a team on the fabric. I would pin and cut the patterns and she will sew them together with her fancy-schmancy sewing machine and surger. Not only will I kinda make stuff for my girls, but our little shop will get some new stock, cause it needs it! Then maybe I can earn some more money to buy more tools for my new love, metal stamping. Nothing says stress relieve more then hitting things with a hammer.