I'm scared... I know it's been a long, long, long time since I've written. I'm sorry about that. Mostly sorry to myself because apparently I need it more than I thought. So here we go. I don't like when Josh takes double shifts because then I don't get to have that talk at night. That connection, that wind down time after the kids go to bed and when the house is quiet, that few moments people need to rehash their day and let the small stuff go, focus on the bigger picture before bed. Just have someone who cares to listen and say 'hey, I appreciate how hard you're working and I know everything is in the air and in your face, but you're handling it and I've got your back'. I'm not saying Josh doesn't do that when we talk on the phone but let's be honest here, 10 minutes of FaceTime or a phone conversation isn't always the same thing. This blog is called "Life As A Firefighter Wife" so I'm not sugar-coating it. I'm a fire wife and I'm here to say it's hard. Double shifts are hard. I don't know if you know this, but firefighters don't just sit at the station waiting for calls to come out. They are ALWAYS moving. Training, classes, drills, fueling/fixing/servicing the truck, cleaning the station...You get it. 48 hours without touching your significant other is hard enough, but barely speaking to them puts a bigger strain on the vast space that is a firefighter/fire wife relationship. Being the one to stay home with the kids, (and for those with a child and especially more than one, knows that means you don't sit down ALL day) you get into this grove of being a single parent. Because you are. For that 24 or 48 hour shift, you're alone to handle it all, whatever all entails that day/s. And it is exhausting to do no matter how rewarding it is. It's worth it, yes; it's a million reasons to smile and wonderful lifetime memories, and seeing them learn and relate to the world and relate to you, but it's a 24 hour responsibility. And it's lonely sometimes. I need that wind down "it's all going to be ok" time with my spouse. I need that connect. And Josh is on his second double this week, so tonight, I'm talking to you...
I'm scared. I don't say it out loud often and even now it's hard to type. My mom is sick. She's pretty open about having breast cancer and what's happening with her surgeries and medications, but there's one thing we haven't said. THE THING. The one thing no kid ever wants to think about when it comes to their parent's health... My mom has always been the sweet, kind of shy, quiet, caring, family-loving type of person. She's also extremely sarcastic, quick-minded and funny. She's too hard on herself but she has a smile that lights up a whole room. When she meets someone who is having a rough day, she will just hug them and listen. And more, she'll remember if she sees them again, ask how they are and do that look that moms know where they kind of see into you and whether or not you're lying. She has always thought of others first, most importantly, her children. Growing up, everything I can remember she has done for me. Playing with my and my siblings, helping me with homework, teaching me to cook/to drive/to balance a check book, yelling at me about boys, helping me move into my dorm room, helping me plan my wedding... She taught me how to love others and be a good person inside and out. How to put family first. My mom taught me how to BE a mom. A great mom like she is.
And now she's sick and even though she says she's fine most days, I know her better. She's my best friend and I can tell when she's hurting physically or emotionally. She is the strong silent type like Josh is and she would rather hear about someone else's bad day than admit she's had one, but I can tell. Because I know her. And her cancer has made us even closer than we were. There is no shame in her receiving help from me. I can look at her scars and see her silent pain and unasked questions and not ask my own questions of her. If she wants to answer "I'm fine" because she wants to believe it's true, I'm not going to shove my doubt on her...But I worry. It's a trait you pick up and hone well as a firefighter's wife. I worry that she feels useless because she is a do-er unable to do. I worry that she thinks the new scars on her body will define her more than her heart does. I worry about that thing we haven't talked about. That thing we can't talk, or even think, about. I worry about the future. I worry she doesn't truly know how much I love her and appreciate her and everything she's ever done for me. Because I do. I really do.
I can keep going forever but I have to stop. I had to just have this moment and acknowledge it and now I can pack it away again. I know God has a plan and I know she's going to be ok. That doesn't mean I'm not entitled to a moment of fear. My mom will be a breast cancer survivor. We will rock the pink ribbon together. Pink has always been her favorite color anyway. I'm scared, but she's strong. I'm scared, but she's not done teaching me yet.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Saturday, October 11, 2014
TMI - Sometimes Parenting, You Have Shitty Days
Let me stop you right here and say if you can't read about poop, yes poop, put down your phone or walk away from your computer. This is NOT the post for you. If you're a seasoned parent like we thought we were, then by all means carry on...
We had a blast seeing everyone we knew and checking out the museum (if you ever visit Charleston, it should be on your "Must See List" at the very least because it's informative and has a kid play area.
The day started much like any other day. It's Josh's first day off shift, meaning that he was coming home this morning around 830. Loralei woke up at 630 and Addison woke up at 700. We generally take our time getting up but today I wanted to make pancakes and bacon before our big day out at the North Charleston Fire Safety Expo and shopping at Tanger.
I had already changed and nursed Loralei by the time Addison got up but before starting breakfast I checked them again. Addison had pooped. I set her on the changing table and reached into the wipe warmer to find it empty. Crap. I grabbed Addi and ran to their room to get another bag from the closet. But it was empty. It's completely full of clothes and blankets and toys but no wipes in sight. Oh double crap. I ran back to our room and called Josh after grabbing the wipes container from the diaper bag in the hall. He said hello and I said "Please please please tell me we are not completely OUT OF WIPES! How could this HAPPEN?!" (I should note here that we have never ever EVER run out of wipes before. Diapers, we have had a close call exactly twice, but wipes? Never.) Josh informed me that there were some in the diaper bag but he thought there was another bag in the girl's closet. We always buy at least 2 ahead so we could never be out. Agreeing that a trip to Sam's Club was in order, I proceeded to count the wipes remaining from the diaper bag. 15.
With Addison cleaned up, and Loralei too since I discovered she was also dirty, we went out into the living room and I got out the bacon. Exactly 2 minutes later I heard splashing. Splashing?? I turned around to find Loralei naked from the waist down and playing in a HUGE puddle on the wooden floor. 😳 I tossed the bacon back in the fridge and picked up Loralei to run down the hall to the girl's bathroom. I dumped her in the dry tub and told Addison to watch her as I went to grab a towel and quickly wipe up the mess.
Once I had tossed the towel in the laundry room I gave Loralei a speedy bath and re-dressed her. Back to the bacon. Luckily the girls were behaving and playing together in the living room so I could cook now.
Josh arrived home and we had breakfast. Then we all showered and got dressed and packed for an all-day outing. Off in the minivan I swore I'd never drive to the Fire Safety Expo!
The Safety Expo had tons of fire trucks, vendors, a car-cutting demonstration (that Josh's old station buddies did), food, bounce houses, free admission to the Fire Museum, and tons of small plastic fire helmets for the kids to wear!
As we headed back to the van, Josh noticed that Addison was dirty again. We changed her and Loralei and loaded up to go across the street to Sam's Club. Well, we hit the Walmart parking lot, a few lanes away from Sam's and Josh yelled out: "Is that POOP on her FACE?!" Surprisingly enough my reply was, "Who??" "LORALEI! Pull over! It's on her HANDS! It's EVERYWHERE! Oh my gosh! Pull over!" he yelled. "Ok ok, hold on a second."
(The Walmart and Sam's Club parking lot is probably the busiest parking lot in North Charleston. Seriously. All of Tanger is always always bonkers. They should probably have their own evacuation plan just in case.) I pulled into the first lane I could and of course had to drive down to the end. We both jumped out, opened van the door and gasped.
Luckily for you readers I didn't take an actual picture, I don't think EVERY moment of my kid's lives should be documented, but let me paint you a word picture... Poop. Everywhere. EVERYWHERE! I am still, hours later, pondering how such a tiny body could possibly hold so much poop. How many intestines do kids have? Maybe that's why she popped?? I mean it's actually referred to by parents as a "blow out" for a reason right? Oh my gosh. Poop on her face. Poop on her arms and legs. Poop all over her car seat. So. Much. Poop.
We considered for a fast minute just going home. Just leaving her buckled, closing the door, and making the 15 minute trip home with her as is. But only for a minute. I mean even though it was already drying all over her body (yuck), we couldn't go home and clean her up because... we were out of wipes! What horrible timing! Josh and I then weighed the option of one of us running into Sam's Club or Walmart alone and leaving the other to clean up. That was a no go. This was definitely a 2 person job. Maybe a SWAT team should be called in too??
"Divide and conquer. I'll take Loralei and you take the seat," I declared. With his face so contorted his mom wouldn't recongize him, Josh unclicked Loralei's seat and pulled her out. We both paused to assess the damage and blink several times. Poop. Poop everywhere. "This is disgusting," Josh said. Yeap. "This is so disgusting," he repeated. Der. "Gross!" "Oh jeez, it's JUST POOP," I said exasperated. Not like we could just walk away. The seat and the daughter had to be cleaned. I tend to always think of what could be worse. At least it was the poop of someone we know. Someone we love.
I ran to the back and grabbed a towel. (I aspire to be Mary Poppins so I have pretty much everything I think we might possibly need at some point maybe, in the diaper bag/back of the van. Including a big Tupperware container of 2 spare outfits per kid, 5 extra diapers per kid, an extra container of wipes, a blanket, a towel, a bag of toys, and a baby carrier. It sits next to the stroller. Like I said, Mary Poppins.) I spread the towel across the driver seat and took Loralei. "Jeez Louise girl!" I worked on getting her poop covered outfit off while Josh began deconstructing the car seat as much as possible while I secretly laughed at his many twisted faces. We used every single one of our 15 wipes and the spare container too. We started filling doggie-bags with the dirty items as we worked. (Yes, I have those too. And a collapsible water bowl and a treat. You just never know.)
Addison sat, innocently watching Mickey Mouse, so we could handle Loralei and her mess without Addi also screaming at us. Speaking of which, Loralei was very upset. Not until we took her out of course but when we did she was downright pissed. It doesn't help that she's developed this new pterodactyl-like scream that only dogs can hear. The cars windshields around us were cracking as I worked to clean poop out from between her toes and from under her fingernails. Finally cleaned up and out of baby wipes and hand sanitizer, we all got into the van to head instead to Target at Josh's suggestion. At least then we'd be closer to home.
We hit Target and made it home no problems. Off I go to wash a car seat and several poop-covered items...
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Oh Captain, My Captain
Oh Daddy, My Baby Daddy. As Addison's second birthday is only days away, it's time to celebrate. Captain Joshua Graham, that is. My amazing husband and the father of my darling girls. Some firefighters used to call him Beaker. Yeah, Beaker like on The Muppets. I have NO CLUE how that started up. He was Beaker before I knew him. He was a firefighter before we met you know. Through our relationship, he has gone from being a great friend, the best boyfriend, a sweet husband, to the best father I know. Joshua is 100% for his girls, our girls. He has been there with me as a parent since I tackled him mid-way on the stairs with the pregnancy test in my hand, giant grin on his face (for Addison). We took a walk 3 days later to Target and they happened to be having a big sale in the baby section so Josh ran home for the car and later that day set up the crib.
He went to every single doctor appointment with me. He held my hair as I puked, even when I swung at him and yelled because I hate when people watch me puke. He made me eat healthy and not bounce in the waves at the beach. He stayed over in the hospital with me 3 nights before Addison was even born because I went into early labor. He forced me to stay on bed rest when it was ordered and walked the block all night long when I wanted to once I was cleared. He was the first person to hold Addison and then supported us both while I held her. (My arm was tingling and numb from meds and the odd angle but I didn't want to let her go.)
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Addison Jo Ann Graham ~ born Sept. 20, 2012 @ 1:41pm
5lbs 11oz, 18in
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While we were still in the hospital he controlled the visitors for us, changed diapers since I couldn't get out of bed for 24 hours and when we discovered Addison was too little to nurse easily, he syringe fed her while I pumped and cried. For 3 days.
Once we were home he continued to help in anyway he could and took over middle of the night changes so I could get up to pee, get a drink and get situated to nurse. Because of the hormones, I wanted to kill him in his sleep but at least he was making himself valuable right? ;)
Once again he dove into the appointments, now with baby care, with gusto. Joshua, Addison and I went to them all together to hear Loralei's beautiful heartbeat and measure her growth. We found out Loralei was a girl the day before Addison's 1st birthday then celebrated our first baby girl turning 1! It was a great weekend!
A few months after that in November we moved and while I packed the whole house and Joshua literally only packed ONE BOX, when moving day rolled around he was a rock star. We enjoyed the holidays in our new home and awaited our new little girl to grace the world with her presence. Josh tolerated 3 more overnights in the hospital and another round of bed rest when I had early labor again. I was cleared and we took maternity photos only a few days before Loralei arrived.
Labor contractions started the morning of January 19th but we went grocery shopping anyway. By lunch I knew it was real but I was going no where until I made real progress. Josh was super worried about this. It was all he could do not to push me into the car. Once I finally conceded at dinnertime, he raced to the hospital and we waited. He held my hand as the doctor talked to us explaining the risks of VBAC and then again hours later when she delivered the sad news that Loralei wasn't coming down and I was still only 1cm. He was very supportive as we walked across the hall and couldn't wait to get back to his hand over mine as our second baby girl came into our lives. I got to hold her first this time but Joshua dove right back into the diaper changes all night and was more supportive than a pair of Spanx. We had 2 girls.
Loralei Ruth Graham ~ born Jan. 20, 2014 @ 1:21am
7lbs 11oz, 21in
When we were able to come home with Loralei after 2 additional nights in the hospital, Josh jumped right in caring for both the girls as much as he could. I was healing from my second c-section.
We have survived because he is our support system. Literally and figuratively. I am normally the upbeat and positive one but when I falter, and I do, he has always said, "It'll be ok." Sometimes it's made me want to smother him in his sleep, but it's true. It will be ok, because I can lean on him when I need to and so can our girls. He is the best man I know. Joshua, I love you and I know our girls love you.
Did I mention he just got promoted and is in college right now too?? No? Well he did and he is... Like I said, he's awesome. 😉
Monday, August 18, 2014
Dear Addict
Dear Addict,
You used to be my baby brother. I don't really know you any more. You were such a Mama's boy and you loved trains. You wanted to grow up and drive trains. You should have grown up to drive trains. I don't know where you are right now but I can't stop thinking of you. I keep thinking of the last few years and the fight I've had to bring you back to us. Each morning when I wake up you are my first thought as I reach for my phone to check the time. I pray that there is no missed call from a number I don't recognize. Or worse, a text from Mom. Like when you had your car accident and were ejected. Or like on July 9th, saying she's in the SICU (surgical intensive care unit) at a hospital downtown because you overdosed on heroin. HEROIN. Oh, how did it come to this??
I was so shocked to learn it went that far. I knew you had started smoking weed in high school. You were busted by the cops for it the day after your 18th birthday. I guess we were all just stupid not to see it was more. I feel stupid. And crazy. When I ask you questions about things and you are so good at convincing me, lying to me, that I believe you 100%. Surely I must be the one in the wrong. Though, am I?? No. I know that I am not. I'm just your big sister, doing everything I can to help you. Still.
I was a newlywed when I moved you in with me for the first time. 8 months you lived with me. I was continuing my education at College of Charleston, a junior. I woke up each morning and drove you to work 30 minutes away before coming back, going to classes downtown, driving back out to get you when you called, then making dinner and cleaning my house, doing schoolwork at night. I thought I was helping you. I thought by getting you out of Bluffton and away from your "friends" who were bad influences that you could start fresh. Then I found a joint in my houseplant one day...
You moved back in with Mom once she moved to Charleston and she helped you too. Bought you an old car so you could get yourself to work. You and Josh worked on it together. Tried to fix it up so it was running great. You just wanted to work and take care of yourself. We tried to help you find your way.
Then one weekend while in Bluffton visiting "friends", you and a boy broke into a detached garage and car and took a GPS. You were drunk. Someone called the cops and you were arrested. For 81 days you were in jail. Over the holidays of 2011. I visited you more times than I could count, taking my '97 Toyota 4Runner to the Beaufort County Detention Center. I went with my Mom the first time. I tried to be strong like her looking at you through the glass in that tiny concrete room. I cried and cried leaving you. After that I went by myself too. Traveling after classes or on the weekends, getting back after dark. I wrote you 17 letters. When you got out in January, you straightened up. You started working, you got your GED. You became an uncle when Addison was born. You seemed ok in life. We pushed you to go back to school but you were content.
Then you never had any money again. You would stay out on the weekends and hang with "friends". We knew you were drinking and smoking. We took you to a rehab center and talked to a councilor with you, tried to convince you to stay. But you were 18. We couldn't commit you. You promised you would stop, get it together. And for a while again it seemed like you did.
Then the old car kept breaking down. So Mom bought you a newer one. You crashed it about a week later. You said you fell asleep while driving from your "friends" house to see your new girlfriend. It was late and she lived in the next town over. Mom got a phone call from an odd number early one morning and she missed it. When you did get ahold of her to tell her you were in the hospital and broke your neck, she didn't believe you. "No. No, no, no, no", she kept saying. Then she was off. Running to the hospital. Running to you.
You were ejected from the sunroof or the driver's window. You weren't buckled up and ironically, it saved your life. You went out somewhere in the middle of the car flipping several times. Someone called the fire dept:
31/May/2013 – MVC with Ejection & Air Evac
She called me to let me know and I took Addison over to her house to clean your room and make dinner. Be ready to help Mom help you inside. Luckily, you were physically ok except for a fractured neck and some cracked ribs. Later I learned you had alcohol and cocaine in your system... But worse, the accident gave you your first taste of Oxycodone…
But you're fine right? No. You're just so blind to how controlled you are by this disease. I never believed that addiction was a mental illness until you. Until now, when I have had to encounter it myself. I feel like I'm fighting 2 people trapped in the same body. You, the real you: the one who loves me, the one who comes home and swings Addison through the air, fascinated by Loralei's tininess and curiosity with the world. The real you who smiles in family pictures and is shy meeting people. And the Addict: the one who lies to my face, calls only when he needs things like food or a ride, the one who turns the sweet boy who likes trains into this mean, cussing, careless monster…
On July 8th, you OVERDOSED on HEROIN. You STOPPED BREATHING. Something felt off when I looked at my phone that morning. There was a text from Mom at 1:48am. It was 5:32am. I ended up nursing Loralei and running out the door to be with Mom, to see that you were ok for myself. By the afternoon when you were discharged, I was on my knees in your room, crying, begging you to go to rehab. To try it. Do you remember that?? You said you were the black sheep of the family. You said what was the point? Well, I can't have the Addict live with my babies. I can't watch you keep spinning out of control. You packed your bag and left.
It took a month for you to change your mind. A month during which you were sleeping in your car until it broke down, sleeping in an abandoned dump truck, crashing on "friends" couches, being let go from your job, and having no where else to turn. So you called me and said you'd try it. I was so proud of you. I could see your whole new future spreading before you. I had been looking at places for weeks, since you had left, to find the best one for you. I called them immediately and told them you were ready. I was already on a first name basis with the directors, having been talking to them for a month about you. They came and got you and when Mom and I closed the front door on the verge of tears, we high-fived. We were ELATED. You could do this!
For the first time in a long time I slept soundly and woke up and looked at my phone without fear. Until today. Yesterday, you were kicked out of rehab. Yesterday was supposed to be our first time visiting with you. The day before you had a "friend" come by before you were allowed visitors. You took drugs at his car before you were asked back inside and searched. You had slipped out while others were receiving their weekend visitors. I got a call that night that we wouldn't be visiting you the next day because it was your "Day 1" all over again. You had admitted to taking Oxy from your "friend" and were starting over. Then they discovered you had snuck in your phone and also drugs. You were considered a danger to the others….
This morning I woke up scared to look at my phone for the first time in a while. Last night I was back to saying my prayer I had started on July 9th when you left. "Please God, don't let the phone ring tonight. Please God, don't let the cops knock on my door. Please keep Ryan safe." Your drivers license has my address, so if something happens we will be notified. I can't bring myself to stop thinking each hour that it will happen soon. I can't bring myself from thinking that I will be planning your funeral soon, unless you can stop and get help.
I've learned in the midst of all this that drugs are in a ladder formation. Weed, alcohol, pills/pain relievers, cocaine, heroin…it's all mixed in together. Once you try one, you're open to others. Once you try opiates, you're hooked. I've learned that heroin is cheaper than pills and apparently easier to come by. No prescriptions to mess with. It's fluctuating through the party scenes right now.
The rehab center said to give you 3 days to change your mind. They said you could come back if you come back honest and willing to work the program. Addict, I'm begging you, please give me back my baby brother. I miss him. Addison misses her cool Uncle Ryan who flings her through the air. Josh wants to teach him how to work on cars and shave. Holly and Mom just can't handle any more sadness in their lives. I beg you, please, go back to rehab Addict and let Ryan come back to us. We NEED him.
Can't you see that your "friends" aren't truly friends? Can't you see that your family are the only true friends you'll ever need? Who brings a recovering person drugs at their rehab center? What kind of "friend" does that? Can't you see that you are his meal-ticket? That he's using you and keeping you hooked?
Can't you see that you are putting me in more pain? Please go back and try to get better. You are the only brother I have. My big little brother. And I miss you, the real you, so much...
You used to be my baby brother. I don't really know you any more. You were such a Mama's boy and you loved trains. You wanted to grow up and drive trains. You should have grown up to drive trains. I don't know where you are right now but I can't stop thinking of you. I keep thinking of the last few years and the fight I've had to bring you back to us. Each morning when I wake up you are my first thought as I reach for my phone to check the time. I pray that there is no missed call from a number I don't recognize. Or worse, a text from Mom. Like when you had your car accident and were ejected. Or like on July 9th, saying she's in the SICU (surgical intensive care unit) at a hospital downtown because you overdosed on heroin. HEROIN. Oh, how did it come to this??
I was so shocked to learn it went that far. I knew you had started smoking weed in high school. You were busted by the cops for it the day after your 18th birthday. I guess we were all just stupid not to see it was more. I feel stupid. And crazy. When I ask you questions about things and you are so good at convincing me, lying to me, that I believe you 100%. Surely I must be the one in the wrong. Though, am I?? No. I know that I am not. I'm just your big sister, doing everything I can to help you. Still.
I was a newlywed when I moved you in with me for the first time. 8 months you lived with me. I was continuing my education at College of Charleston, a junior. I woke up each morning and drove you to work 30 minutes away before coming back, going to classes downtown, driving back out to get you when you called, then making dinner and cleaning my house, doing schoolwork at night. I thought I was helping you. I thought by getting you out of Bluffton and away from your "friends" who were bad influences that you could start fresh. Then I found a joint in my houseplant one day...
You moved back in with Mom once she moved to Charleston and she helped you too. Bought you an old car so you could get yourself to work. You and Josh worked on it together. Tried to fix it up so it was running great. You just wanted to work and take care of yourself. We tried to help you find your way.
Then one weekend while in Bluffton visiting "friends", you and a boy broke into a detached garage and car and took a GPS. You were drunk. Someone called the cops and you were arrested. For 81 days you were in jail. Over the holidays of 2011. I visited you more times than I could count, taking my '97 Toyota 4Runner to the Beaufort County Detention Center. I went with my Mom the first time. I tried to be strong like her looking at you through the glass in that tiny concrete room. I cried and cried leaving you. After that I went by myself too. Traveling after classes or on the weekends, getting back after dark. I wrote you 17 letters. When you got out in January, you straightened up. You started working, you got your GED. You became an uncle when Addison was born. You seemed ok in life. We pushed you to go back to school but you were content.
Then you never had any money again. You would stay out on the weekends and hang with "friends". We knew you were drinking and smoking. We took you to a rehab center and talked to a councilor with you, tried to convince you to stay. But you were 18. We couldn't commit you. You promised you would stop, get it together. And for a while again it seemed like you did.
Then the old car kept breaking down. So Mom bought you a newer one. You crashed it about a week later. You said you fell asleep while driving from your "friends" house to see your new girlfriend. It was late and she lived in the next town over. Mom got a phone call from an odd number early one morning and she missed it. When you did get ahold of her to tell her you were in the hospital and broke your neck, she didn't believe you. "No. No, no, no, no", she kept saying. Then she was off. Running to the hospital. Running to you.
You were ejected from the sunroof or the driver's window. You weren't buckled up and ironically, it saved your life. You went out somewhere in the middle of the car flipping several times. Someone called the fire dept:
31/May/2013 – MVC with Ejection & Air Evac
Incident # 13-02901 – A high speed single car MVC in the 12000 block of Cottageville Highway (US Hwy 17-A) has sent one man to a Trauma Center. The southbound Honda left the roadway and struck a driveway culvert causing the small car to become airborne. The vehicle landed approximately thirty feet in the front yard of a business and flipped over several times before coming to rest on its wheels. An adult male was ejected from the vehicle. He suffered multiple traumatic injuries, including a suspected head injury. A medical helicopter was requested and landed at the Cottageville Elementary School. The patient was treated and transported from the scene by Medic 9. LifeNet 7 flew the patient to the Trauma Center at MUSC in Charleston. The SC Highway Patrol is investigating the crash.
She called me to let me know and I took Addison over to her house to clean your room and make dinner. Be ready to help Mom help you inside. Luckily, you were physically ok except for a fractured neck and some cracked ribs. Later I learned you had alcohol and cocaine in your system... But worse, the accident gave you your first taste of Oxycodone…
But you're fine right? No. You're just so blind to how controlled you are by this disease. I never believed that addiction was a mental illness until you. Until now, when I have had to encounter it myself. I feel like I'm fighting 2 people trapped in the same body. You, the real you: the one who loves me, the one who comes home and swings Addison through the air, fascinated by Loralei's tininess and curiosity with the world. The real you who smiles in family pictures and is shy meeting people. And the Addict: the one who lies to my face, calls only when he needs things like food or a ride, the one who turns the sweet boy who likes trains into this mean, cussing, careless monster…
On July 8th, you OVERDOSED on HEROIN. You STOPPED BREATHING. Something felt off when I looked at my phone that morning. There was a text from Mom at 1:48am. It was 5:32am. I ended up nursing Loralei and running out the door to be with Mom, to see that you were ok for myself. By the afternoon when you were discharged, I was on my knees in your room, crying, begging you to go to rehab. To try it. Do you remember that?? You said you were the black sheep of the family. You said what was the point? Well, I can't have the Addict live with my babies. I can't watch you keep spinning out of control. You packed your bag and left.
It took a month for you to change your mind. A month during which you were sleeping in your car until it broke down, sleeping in an abandoned dump truck, crashing on "friends" couches, being let go from your job, and having no where else to turn. So you called me and said you'd try it. I was so proud of you. I could see your whole new future spreading before you. I had been looking at places for weeks, since you had left, to find the best one for you. I called them immediately and told them you were ready. I was already on a first name basis with the directors, having been talking to them for a month about you. They came and got you and when Mom and I closed the front door on the verge of tears, we high-fived. We were ELATED. You could do this!
For the first time in a long time I slept soundly and woke up and looked at my phone without fear. Until today. Yesterday, you were kicked out of rehab. Yesterday was supposed to be our first time visiting with you. The day before you had a "friend" come by before you were allowed visitors. You took drugs at his car before you were asked back inside and searched. You had slipped out while others were receiving their weekend visitors. I got a call that night that we wouldn't be visiting you the next day because it was your "Day 1" all over again. You had admitted to taking Oxy from your "friend" and were starting over. Then they discovered you had snuck in your phone and also drugs. You were considered a danger to the others….
This morning I woke up scared to look at my phone for the first time in a while. Last night I was back to saying my prayer I had started on July 9th when you left. "Please God, don't let the phone ring tonight. Please God, don't let the cops knock on my door. Please keep Ryan safe." Your drivers license has my address, so if something happens we will be notified. I can't bring myself to stop thinking each hour that it will happen soon. I can't bring myself from thinking that I will be planning your funeral soon, unless you can stop and get help.
I've learned in the midst of all this that drugs are in a ladder formation. Weed, alcohol, pills/pain relievers, cocaine, heroin…it's all mixed in together. Once you try one, you're open to others. Once you try opiates, you're hooked. I've learned that heroin is cheaper than pills and apparently easier to come by. No prescriptions to mess with. It's fluctuating through the party scenes right now.
The rehab center said to give you 3 days to change your mind. They said you could come back if you come back honest and willing to work the program. Addict, I'm begging you, please give me back my baby brother. I miss him. Addison misses her cool Uncle Ryan who flings her through the air. Josh wants to teach him how to work on cars and shave. Holly and Mom just can't handle any more sadness in their lives. I beg you, please, go back to rehab Addict and let Ryan come back to us. We NEED him.
Can't you see that your "friends" aren't truly friends? Can't you see that your family are the only true friends you'll ever need? Who brings a recovering person drugs at their rehab center? What kind of "friend" does that? Can't you see that you are his meal-ticket? That he's using you and keeping you hooked?
Can't you see that you are putting me in more pain? Please go back and try to get better. You are the only brother I have. My big little brother. And I miss you, the real you, so much...
Friday, August 15, 2014
I TRY To Be A Good Mom!
Like you've already read, I feel like I'm putting up a 110% as a Mom. Ok, ok, it's 97%. But hey, even moms have to pee. And 9 times out of 10, I've got an audience for that just so you know. I absolutely love being a mom. I feel like I was born to play this role and I adore my darling little girls and every minute I spend with them. That being said, they are now 22 months and 6 months old and both are officially mobile. On your marks, get set, GO! Loralei can crawl, scoot, roll, sit up, and she's already trying to pull up too. If I'm not nursing her, I'm pulling her from under the couch, the ottoman, the entertainment center, the bookshelf… or putting toys in her radius, reading a story, or chasing Addison and trying to clean. Being a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) means that I am with my girls 24/7/365. Literally. Occasionally Daddy will take Addison to the store with him, or we will have a date night, but most times I'm watching the girls. Again, I love it. Every laugh, smile, hug, kiss… Being there for them rocks.
However, Addison is now considered a toddler. I thought I understood what all that entailed. I worked at 2 daycares during high school and college after all. Toddlers are not foreign beings to me. But I didn't factor in who Addison's daddy is. Quiet, sweet (though smart-mouthed) Joshua apparently wasn't always that way. I've heard stories. His mom told me that he was kicked out of a few day care centers. Yes, KICKED OUT. I knew he was diagnosed with A.D.D. when he was little. I am also fully aware that my husband can't sit still for more than 15 minutes to save his life and even during those still minutes he pops and twitches and adjusts. But, I did not think that my sweet girls, my angels, would be his "spawn" (for lack of a better word) through and through.
Addison is like a tiny tornado. Everything she touches is disintegrated immediately into millions of pieces and scattered as she whirls all around the house, never being still. She is so curious about the world and I encourage her curiosity, but dang, I am constantly running behind her playing survivor. Seeing if I can piece things back together, calm down whatever animal she just terrified, trying to think ahead to see where she might strike next. She also is refusing to nap nowadays so I have to just let her go. A month ago Josh and I both took turns trying to calm her down but after 2 hours of screaming, everyday for a week straight, we threw in the towel. She thinks she doesn't need a nap anymore. Some days she crashes and some days she just doesn't nap.
Anyway, tornado Addison has really made landfall this week. In the 15 minutes it takes me to nurse her sister, or while I'm busy cleaning/playing/moving Loralei, Addison lets her curiosity roam. I always know I'm in for it when the house gets too quiet. That eery horror movie quiet like right before that guy reeves up the chain-saw or a clown pops out ya know? Here's a rough list of her toddler shenanigans over the last 4 days: used Mommy's make-up brushes to clean the toilet (again), poured out majority of the salt shaker onto the table and proceeded to lick it up,choking carrying the cat around, ramming dogs with her Baby's stroller/bike, climbing everywhere and sometimes getting stuck/falling, playing in the cat water bowl, playing in the cat food, "cleaning up" the cat litter from the floor and putting it back in the box, spreading about 50 dinner napkins around the dining room, emptying the changing table of it's contents, pulling down all of the books within her reach from Mommy's giant bookshelves, shredding a roll of toilet paper with a cat, coloring where coloring shouldn't happen, throwing toys all over the room, streaking…
You see what I'm getting at here? Girl is making me look bad as a parent. Seriously. If someone stops by (and people always do) my house is a wreck, my kids are everywhere, we're always eating and someone is generally in some degree of undress. Probably doesn't even look like I do anything all day. Just sit back and let them run this place. Some part of me feels like I should have seen this coming and yet… As much as I should blame him, Josh did help make them pretty stinking cute. That's probably the only reason I don't duct tape them to chairs occasionally. All of them. Forgive me, I'm trying over here people!
However, Addison is now considered a toddler. I thought I understood what all that entailed. I worked at 2 daycares during high school and college after all. Toddlers are not foreign beings to me. But I didn't factor in who Addison's daddy is. Quiet, sweet (though smart-mouthed) Joshua apparently wasn't always that way. I've heard stories. His mom told me that he was kicked out of a few day care centers. Yes, KICKED OUT. I knew he was diagnosed with A.D.D. when he was little. I am also fully aware that my husband can't sit still for more than 15 minutes to save his life and even during those still minutes he pops and twitches and adjusts. But, I did not think that my sweet girls, my angels, would be his "spawn" (for lack of a better word) through and through.
Addison is like a tiny tornado. Everything she touches is disintegrated immediately into millions of pieces and scattered as she whirls all around the house, never being still. She is so curious about the world and I encourage her curiosity, but dang, I am constantly running behind her playing survivor. Seeing if I can piece things back together, calm down whatever animal she just terrified, trying to think ahead to see where she might strike next. She also is refusing to nap nowadays so I have to just let her go. A month ago Josh and I both took turns trying to calm her down but after 2 hours of screaming, everyday for a week straight, we threw in the towel. She thinks she doesn't need a nap anymore. Some days she crashes and some days she just doesn't nap.
Anyway, tornado Addison has really made landfall this week. In the 15 minutes it takes me to nurse her sister, or while I'm busy cleaning/playing/moving Loralei, Addison lets her curiosity roam. I always know I'm in for it when the house gets too quiet. That eery horror movie quiet like right before that guy reeves up the chain-saw or a clown pops out ya know? Here's a rough list of her toddler shenanigans over the last 4 days: used Mommy's make-up brushes to clean the toilet (again), poured out majority of the salt shaker onto the table and proceeded to lick it up,
You see what I'm getting at here? Girl is making me look bad as a parent. Seriously. If someone stops by (and people always do) my house is a wreck, my kids are everywhere, we're always eating and someone is generally in some degree of undress. Probably doesn't even look like I do anything all day. Just sit back and let them run this place. Some part of me feels like I should have seen this coming and yet… As much as I should blame him, Josh did help make them pretty stinking cute. That's probably the only reason I don't duct tape them to chairs occasionally. All of them. Forgive me, I'm trying over here people!
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Doing The Mom / Fire Wife Thing (A Photo Story)
"What do you do all day?" I get asked this all the time so I decided to take my camera and snap pictures throughout my day as I could. Of course you won't see any toddler mischief or baby meltdowns or me cleaning but I assure you this all happens in between the picture-perfect moments. Today happens to be a station day so Josh leaves at 7am and won't return til 8:30-9am tomorrow. Nothing big happening today either so we had a pretty mellow at home day and saw Daddy for a bit at dinner.
Loralei wakes up at 4:34am to play and practice life skills such as rolling over, crawling and sitting up then takes a short hour nap before carrying on with the day when Addison wakes up at 6:30am (sleeping in!).
Good morning Gorgeous!
Addison takes Loralei on a tour of the house as I start some laundry.
Once the girls are dressed they play in the living room together while I tidy up breakfast.
Can you vacuum with no hands?? Don't put the babies down! ;)
Loralei chilling while I make lunch
Lunch time
Nap time! Addison took nap today! Yay!
Cake batter testing for the cupcakes for the firemen
Follow the leader with Mad Max
Cooper is a great baby sitter. See how involved he is??
Mad Max (2 years old)
Charlie
Laundry laundry laundry…when is a stay at home mom, or any mom for that matter, not doing laundry??
Whiskers
Hunter
We are also always doing dishes. There are constantly clean dishes to be put away and a full sink waiting to be washed. I love doing dishes but just never seem to find the time...
Off to see Daddy at the fire station!
Loralei fell asleep in the van and got some Daddy snuggles while Addison and I made him tacos for dinner before he left for a fire and we came home.
Addison, my blue-eyed breech baby
Loralei, my sweet brown-eyed lovebug
I love my angels. They make my world go round.
Crazy girl is trying to pull up at 6 months!
Addison and Nana
Before bed playtime
Addison hugging Mad Max (Don't worry he's just meowing. He loves his Addi.)
…And now my babies are in bed and I'm off to Dreamland too. Sometimes I feel like I'm running in circles continuously cleaning the same mess or doing the same thing day to day but I'm not. Every day might be somewhat similar but my girls love me and hug me and kiss me and I'm so blessed to be able to experience every second of it. I wouldn't have any of it without Joshua either. He's my rock and I love him to pieces. Night all! Another day in Paradise tomorrow!
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