circus baby

Originally posted on my personal blog.

One of those extremely rare mornings where I luxuriously sleep in past 7:30 and wake up to two different people trying to get hold of me for help with something. I’ve got years of private blog posts full of how I feel about constantly being needed and yanked around by a convergence of other people’s drama probs from several directions like I’m a cosmic target. I haven’t indulged in retrospection on irony in awhile, but I’m having trubba getting the bwain to engage, so I’ll just use that as an exercise while I stumble all over typos like a broken robot. This paragraph has taken nearly ten minutes to complete. I am finally satisfied with it. On good days it’s a breeze and flows right out. On bad days it can take several minutes to construct an intelligent sentence without any mistakes in it, and up to a couple of hours to construct a paragraph.

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Burritonado. That’s a word in our house now. Over the last week- shots, more teeth, stuff, MOAR TEETH, fever. I’m so tired. Scott is so tired. The irony is that after July my calendar was suddenly all cleared out. Appointment follow ups are over, physical therapy is over again for awhile, birthdays are over for awhile, everything is just over. All I asked for my 21st anniversary was an entire Saturday off because we completely missed doing any special anything for our 20th anniversary last year because we were so distracted and exhausted with new baby. I got my ONE day off, felt invigorated, full of new work Plan for August, and *boom*, no that isn’t gonna happen. It’s still not about me. In the 21 years I’ve been married, I am lucky to get Scott to myself even one weekend a year, and it sure didn’t happen this year. I’ve been using this new work thing (I’m totally disabled, physically and mentally, and the plan is to do everything in my power to get. off. disability.) to distract myself from the severe depression part of aspie spoonie married into a severely ADHD self destructive alcoholic family (I really do love Scott, he broke free of that crap and is a great guy, and then built a house next door to his mother because he’s a good son… NOW he understands why you just don’t do that), and it’s totally working- I am actually cleared by FOUR doctors (three of them specialists) to stay off head meds now (that’s a huge thing, people) as long as I continue to SLEEP. I finally started sleeping after 20 years of severe insomnia. Yeah, that *ahem* coincides with getting remarried. *cough*stepdaughter*cough*neversleeping*cough* etc.

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So I’m on track. I’m getting healthy. It’s very slow. I feel like a turtle pulling a stalled out tractor trailer rig, but I’m doing it. And I’m glorifying in this wonderful month that opened up… No. Just, no. My body feels like a crash test dummy that hit the wall a few times. I can barely think. (I’m really proud of the complicated sentence structuring in the last paragraph, but I blanked on the word complicated and sat here staring like an idiot. This is taking an hour so far already.) Five years ago a doctor ordered restrictions, and the pain was so bad I wasn’t allowed to lift even a gallon of milk. Guess what- I’m carting a 20 pound baby around like I’m Schwarzenegger. And she’s one of the wiggliest strongest babies I’ve ever met. She’s a circus baby. Here is proof. This is what it’s like being married into a super hyper family. Notice the complete trust and strength of balance this baby has. And her mom has never dropped her. Burrito mama is the same way, she was one of the strongest little kids I ever met in my life. I think they lack a fatigue/pain awareness or something telling them to slow down. Scott is the same way, too, it’s very genetic. It’s not surprising that they can trace their family history directly back to Nathan Boone. Yep, I’m married into the Daniel Boone family, lol. I have this hypothesis that hyper people are the ones who can’t stop moving so they are constantly going to find and see new things. They simply have no clue what a lazy day is. I think it’s funny that Scott’s history comes from Quakers and mine from Mennonites, but I’m going way off track now, here is circus baby.

In this second vid you can see she looks over to see if grampa is watching.

All I’m saying is that this slow determined brain crawling is my motivation for keeping up in real time with the people I love. I need a day here or there to write MY stuff and make it real if they wanna see me continue to get stronger.

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I meant this, because I live it. I have family who lives it. I know other people who live it. Not ‘quitting’ is a DAILY preoccupation for ALL of us. Always. Even on good days. What Dreams May Come

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I want my readers and followers to understand I know it’s hard. I want the people thinking I’m self promoting too much to understand THIS is what keeps me here. I’m not hanging on view counts, I’m hanging on the discipline of getting up every single morning and committing myself to print in a very public world. When I say it’s taking everything I’ve got, I really do mean it. I’m still here because I love my family. I’ve seen what death does ripping holes in lives, how extensive and far reaching the holes are through time, how it cripples those who are left behind. I feel very left behind. I don’t want to do that to the people I love. But it’s a daily commitment. I don’t apologize for not joining in the delusion that drug and alcohol abuse is a fun and funny way to problem solve. Y’all haven’t seen the ditch I’ve scraped myself out of doing that. We are all one step away from being face down in a ditch, so if you are using to deal, you need to take a step back and look at what you are doing to your families. Burrito mama survived a really big mess, a preemie that went through DTs and an absent parent (she’s my step), and I’m so proud of her that she has her life together and has a wonderful healthy baby now herself.

It’s important that you keep tweeting, keep blogging, keep sharing, keep talking. Please keep talking. If you feel you don’t have someone to talk to and you need help NOW- Crisis Call Center, International Suicide Hotlines, International Sexual Assault Resources.

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