Phobias – They SUCK!

I recently broke a tooth, a molar to be exact. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Unfortunately it was all the sooner than I would have liked.  I hate my teeth, I hate everything about them.  Their shape, color, positioning. You name it, I hate it.  But it wasn’t always like that.  Thanks to the dumb ass dentist that scarred me for life……

I had to call the dentist to make an appointment, I couldn’t put if off.  It was the comfort factor that made me do it. I wasn’t experiencing pain, but it felt odd as it was on the side of my tooth that rubs along the inner cheek.

For anyone else in the world, that would have been a piece of cake.  Oh no, not for me.  For me it meant taking ten or more long, slow, deep breaths. And that was just to work up the nerve to actually make the phone call to make the appointment.  Then it was the trying to talk through my shaky tear-laden voice.

Husband tried to be helpful.  (Although I think he thinks I am crazy, as do lots of other people.) He gave me the dentist’s website link so I could fill out my new patient forms BEFORE the appointment so I don’t have to sit in the waiting room too long.  Just filing out the forms my palms were sweating and my feet turned to ice.  He assured me that the dentist is a good guy and is all about painless and gentle dentistry. Ugh!

I can only IMAGINE how much a wreck I am going to be on the drive there and even worse, the time spent in the waiting room.  I’m already getting a stress headache from thinking about it.  Did I say Ugh?

I’m really hoping this dentist will be kind and gentle and that absolutely NO pain will be involved.  I’m hoping that before he even touches me he will take a few moments to actually talk with me and allay my fears.  (Can you say Valium?) I’m hoping that I don’t see the needle or feel the sting of the numbing agent. I’m hoping I don’t break out in hives or worse, start crying like a blubbering idiot.  I’ve already told his scheduling secretary, so hopefully she’s marked my chart with the words “MASSIVE WIMP” all over it!

This visit to the dentist shouldn’t be a big deal you say? Well, thanks to a crappy dentist back in Philly, who I will kindly leave nameless, I have been extremely dental phobic for the last 15 years.  That’s right people 15 YEARS!  Completely let my dental health go because of one of the worst experiences in my life.  It’s right up there on the list of sucky life happenings… probably a notch or two below the death of my daughter.

It’s AWFUL how one person’s actions that caused SO much pain and so much sickenss after treatment has held me captive and ruined part of my life and my health.

I’m hoping today all that will change.  Fingers crossed, prayers being chanted incessantly.  Because if I have any pain like I experienced that caused this horrendous fear, I’m kicking the dentist where the sun don’t shine!

Like the heading says…. PHOBIAS SUCK!

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Let the Writing Begin

What can I say that hasn’t already been said?  What stories do I have to share? What life struggle have I experienced and lived to tell about?  How can something I lived through help someone else?  These are the thoughts that run rampant through my brain these past few days.

As some of you know, I’ve got two young boys that are the true reason for my being.  With the honor of being their Mom comes major undertakings.  The biggest of undertakings would be cleaning out the monster-sized mess that is known as my home.

While mixing up a meatloaf this afternoon, I decided that each day I will write one post as a reward for accomplishing a predetermined task.  To help me along, I will be going through Mama Kat’s Pretty Much World Famous Writing Prompts and seeing what topics would come up.  I’m hoping that with this practice, the words I want to write will flow fluidly from my fingers to the computer keyboard.

Both the cleaning and the  writing will not be easy tasks, but I am going to get through BOTH of them successfully. And I hope a few of you out there will hold me to it!

In the coming days I will be picking a prompt and posting it here in my little corner of the blogosphere that I call home.  All the while  doing these two things, I will be taking an online class over at Blogelina’s place.  Hopefully what I learn there will help me become a better writer.

Who knows where this thing called the Internet can take me. Only time will tell.  One thing I do know is that I’m glad I’ve got my good friends to join me along the way.

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Those Housewives Would Never Let Me In

This week Mama Kat challenged us to come up with 10 Reasons Why You Could Not be a Real Housewife from Any County.  I thought about this one (while attempting to get my vlog about my blog done – unsuccessfully I might add).

I love my real housewives. I live for Thursday nights’ latest round of drama.  I’m a true Philly girl.  I love the east coast house wives in the mid-Atlantic.  (Sorry  Atlanta and Miami, you just don’t do it for me. I tried, honestly I tried.)

I am particualrly fond of the fine gals from New York and New Jersey.  They are close to my heart.  It’s what I grew up around.  My mom’s side of the family is from Brooklyn.  I’ve got relatives from all five boroughs. They are loud, opinionated and crazy ladies with great accents who always work hard for their families. The took meager means and turned them into the best riches ever.  No money could ever buy the happiness they gave us.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world!

While having my own successful line of business is SO incredibly appealing, the things we see on TV that go along with it aren’t much appealing.  Deep down inside, I wanna be successful like Ramona Singer or Bethenny Frankel Hoppy (who I personally think both rock the business world). But I don’t want to have to be “on” every waking moment of my day.

So I really had to think about why I could NOT be a real housewife…. and here is my short list.

  1. I’m not a fan of the public eye.  I don’t wanna live in a fish bowl having my every moment filmed.  I’d HATE to scare the world with how I look in my down time.
  2. I don’t have a husband who seems to never be around and not that much involved with my son’s lives.  (Ok, so I KNOW Simon doesn’t fit that bill but the others? But Juicy Joe, what do YOU do to spend time with your girls?)
  3. I’m what those women would call poor.  I can’t afford to book girls’ weekends for my fellow mom friends to a private island nor can I afford Communion parties the magnitude of Teresa’s taste. I am lucky I can afford my little bitty 1,100 square foot house, let alone a mansion.  I live within my means.  It’s called a budget Teresa….. Get one!
  4. I know my etiquette, but don’t freak out if I, or someone in my circle, break those sometimes uppity rules. Darling, we all can’t be Miss Manners 100 percent of the time.  Sometimes a girl’s gotta scratch and itch, know what I mean? 😉
  5. I think before I speak. (Yes, Ramona, that one is for you!) Which means that I don’t insult my hostess at a party nor do I call someone insane or crazy without knowing all that much about them.
  6. I would never inject collagen or, even worse, Botox into ANY part of my body.  EVER!  Botox is a form of botulism people!!!!!!   ‘Nuff said about that one!
  7. I like an occasional cocktail, but would never go all “turtle time” or have a stranger lick a shot off of my stomach. Really ladies?? What WERE you thinking?  Oh wait, apparently you weren’t, the alcohol was.
  8. I’m not a big fan of boats.  I get seasick easily and I can’t swim to save my life.
  9. I love living WITH my kids FULL TIME and could never ship them off to private schools or live in the city during the week and only see them on weekends (even if they are teenagers) — Do you hear that Countess?
  10. And the MOST IMPORTANT reason I could NEVER be one of “those” housewives….. MY BOOBS, BUTT and LIPS ARE REAL! I’ve never had a tummy tuck, lipo or a face lift.  No one has “done my eyes”. No matter how saggy they all might be, they’re the original ones God gave me!  I may not be movie star gorgeous, but I like me and I am happy with what I’ve got!

So there you have it, my reasons that Bravo TV  or any other reality TV station will never come knocking on my door.  And I’m pretty darn happy about that!  I want to remain Just A Philly Girl living life to the fullest in southeastern Michigan!  ❤

Mama’s Losin’ It

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An Open Letter to Mother Nature

Dearest darling Mother Nature,

What gives doll?  We know you’ve been overworked and underpaid for years now, but honey, please!  Wake up, smell the coffee – hell, knock back a few gallons of java if that’s what it takes!  We’ll even provide you with the best espresso beans money can buy!

Why? Why, oh why, must you allow us to be held hostage by Old Man Winter?  Why won’t you ask him to release his grip on us? Did we really tick you off that badly last year? Are we the misbehaving children who needed to be taught a lesson? Why must you tease us with an 80 plus degree day and a few in the mid-sixties only to be greeted a few days later with mind numbing temps in the thirties? Is it menopause my dear, they have pills for that.  Lack of vitamins, we’ll send you some. Or is it something else? Just let us know and we’ll do our best to fix it.

We, the children of the fine State of Michigan, are respectfully requesting that you arise from your slumber and send Spring our way.  We promise to take good care of her, nourish her, supply fresh vegetation and flora. We will love her tremendously until her sister, Summer, arrives and we will love her just as much.

All we need is for you to do your part.  It’s not too much to ask.  Really it isn’t! Just sweep your loving arms over our little mitten and scarf shaped state and wipe away the clouds and send the sunshine beaming down onto us.

Thanks so much for your time.  Now girl, go get yourself together and get to work!


The People of Michigan

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If You Really Knew Me…

As part of Mama Kat’s Writing Prompts last week,she challenged us to finish this sentence “If you really knew me, you would know…”

So here is my list, the good, the bad and the sometimes very ugly:

If you really knew me, you would know that:

  • I have three children, not just two. And I still grieve over the loss of my daughter as if it happened yesterday;
  • I love anything that has a turtle on it and I have a growing collection of turtle statues and trinkets;
  • One of my most prized pieces of jewelry was a gift from my sister-in-law, a turtle charm, that I am NEVER without;
  • I love to read although I have absolutely no time;
  • I want to return to college but am afraid of having to start all over or failing to be the perfect student;
  • I am an only child with parents who live more than 600 mile away. I get worried sick when either of them gets the simplest cold;
  • I hate the size of my body but I have no desire to do something about it because I don’t feel worthy enough to spend time taking care of me;
  • I have been battling depression since my daughter died on her father’s birthday, November 11, 2001. It’s a daily struggle and one that I am learning to live with;
  • I feel that I am a disappointment to my husband and my kids because I can’t keep the house in perfect order;
  • I have no desire to return to a structured workplace and I prefer to be at home full time, raising my children and starting my own home-based business;
  • I have no clue where to begin my venture into the entrepreneurial world;
  • I am afraid to look like a failure if my business, whatever it ends up being, is not a smashing success;
  • I have many acquaintances but only thee or four true friends that would be there for me in my most desperate hours. Luckily, they know who they are;
  • I try to hard to please everyone at the expense of my own happiness and health;
  • I have a very unhealthy fear of the dentist although I know I need dental work done;
  • That writing this list was probably one of the hardest self-inspections I’ve done in a long, long time;
  • I am homesick for my east coast family each and every day of my life;
  • I have a child with Asperger’s Syndrome and Sensory Processing Disorder that most people think is just a spoiled brat;
  • My proudest moments in life are when my children achieve their own personal goals;
  • I am not proud of myself for some very stupid reasons;
  • I have a very poor memory when it comes to dates, times and events. I always ask my 7 year old to remind me of the who, what, when, where, who of an event. And then I feel stupid;
  • I am ashamed of my ruddy Rosacea-laden face;
  • I hate wearing make up but do so only when I look “too red” to not be embarrassed by it or to not make others feel uncomfortable around me;
  • I love all kinds of music except rap and opera;
  • I love a good sappy love story, but only in movie form;
  • I love mystery and suspense books, but nothing gory or romance  filled;
  • I hate going to the movie theater, I’d rather stay home in the comfort of my own home and not be annoyed by other ignorant theater go-ers;
  • I am surprised how quickly these points are flying onto this screen and how I am actually willing to share my deep (and sometimes dark) thoughts.

Most importantly, if you really new me, you would know that I am a good person, a devoted daughter, a faithful friend, a loving mom and a devoted wife. And those are the things that make me happy in this life.
Mama’s Losin’ It

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Amazing Things Can Happen, If You Just Let Them

Well, sometimes things just don’t go as they are planned. This week is no exception to the rule.

Tinklemeister & Buddy - Best Friends Forever

This week our children are on Spring Break (if you could really call it Spring. Spring just hasn’t shown it’s pretty face just yet here in southeastern Michigan.) The original plan was a road trip to Illinois, Chicago and Peoria to be more precise. Had the dog sitter all lined up, the days planned, and the two boys, Buddy & Tinklemeister, excited to go on a new and unknown adventure. As fate would have it, that is when the monkey wrench was thrown into the mix.

Buddy, our oldest son at age 7 who has Asperger’s Syndrome (AS) and Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), came down with yet another sore throat. Most sore throats for our son end up with a positive case of strep. Time to call the ENT and get an appointment. As (bad) luck would have it, our ENT is not in the office on Mondays, so we set our appointment for Tuesday at 10 AM. Once we get a diagnosis, we can hit the road and get our vacation underway.

Well, what to do in the meantime? We certainly didn’t want to waste a vacation day, especially since for once it was warmer than it has been here for a while, even if it was windy.  Looking over a list of local Detroit area museums, we became quite discouraged by the costs. Some fees were so steep! How can average folk such as ourselves afford to go to these places of culture? The answer is simple, we can’t. So now to find a low to no cost venue.

Then I remembered it, the postcard that came in the mail late last week. The butterflies were back at Oakland Mall.  Finally, a fun day out that won’t break the bank.

2011 Butterflies at Oakland Mall

We headed out to the mall and took the boys to see the free Butterfly Exhibit. The same exhibit we attempted last year at this time. The same exhibit that Buddy melted down over because the “tour guides” told him that the butterflies would fly all around him and could possibly land on him. The same exhibit that had me leaving the mall with my head hung down in shame because I had the “bratty kid”. Little did we know at the time that he wasn’t just being “bratty”. His AS and SPD were being sent into over-drive.

This year we went well prepared. We let Buddy know what would happen. We explained how the butterflies could fly in his face, they could land on him. We told him if he was uncomfortable, he could leave the exhibit. He was cool with everything we talked about. But I have to say, I had my doubts he’d survive the experience without melting.

Butterfly Hunting

Well, imagine my surprise when he walked right into the butterfly house and got down on his knees to see the butterflies resting on the potted plants.  Then, without any hesitation, he hopped up and said “Mom, I wanna hold a butterfly!”

I will not lie to you, while taking photos of both boys, I could barely see what I was shooting through my tears of joy.

Our “tour guide” was so patient and so helpful and extremely kind.  He made sure that both boys got to hold a butterfly and that I could get a few great shots of this great event.  Little did our guide know what a great thing he was doing for our family.

So to the young man who helped us, and whose name we unfortunately did not learn, thank you a million times over. You made two little boys extremely happy and one grateful Mama very proud!

And the best part of the day was a lesson learned…

amazing things CAN happen, if you just let them!

Buddy and the Butterfly

Posted in Anxiety, Asperger Syndrome, Autism, Butterflies, Childhood disoders, meltdowns, New adventures, Sensory Processing Disorder, temper tantrums, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Seven – It’s OUR Lucky Number

“It’s A Boy!”  Those were the words of  Harry A. Ludwig, D. O., the world’s most knowledgeable, loving and caring obstetrician.  We just called him “Doc”.

Doc was there with us when we got out positive test results with our first child, Samantha. And he was there with us after her death, sobbing tears of pain and sorrow, tears of hopes and dreams crushed.  That man had THE most consoling hugs EVER, the kind you get from your grandpa. The kind of hugs that said everything is going to be all right.  Warm, loving hugs full of hope and happiness.

That was the reason that a year and a half after Samantha’s death, we went back to our good friend wanting to try again for another child.  Doc knew the routine, Glucophage three times a day in conjunction with Clomid.  First month we tried, BINGO! We were expecting.  And Doc was the first person we called to share the news!

The first 26 weeks were the most harrowing.  Waiting, each passing day, with baited breath; we wanted, no, we NEEDED to get to 27 weeks this time to know all was well with our baby-to-be. Through it all, Doc was there promising us “poopy diapers at 3 AM”.

It was decided that our new family member would arrive two and a half weeks before my due date of March 28th.  When March 12th arrived, we were filled with so much anxiety, but mostly with joy and happy anticipation.  Up until this point, we didn’t know whether it would be a girl or a boy.  The mystery was going to be revealed and our world will change for ever, for the better!

Seven years ago, we heard the most wonderful and amazing words we’ve ever heard, “It’s A Boy!” On Friday, March 12, 2004, at 8:36AM, Eastern Standard Time, our little Buddy came into this world, in the warm, waiting hands of Dr. Harry.  He got his first hug from that great man.

Seven years ago, we heard the saddest words ever “Call a priest, he might not live past today.”

Seven years, he’s had to over come one medical milestone after another….

In seven years, he has proven all the neo-natologists wrong!

In seven years, he’s blown them all away!!

These have been the best seven years of my life and I would not trade them for all the riches or wonders in the world!

Seven years ago, Buddy was gently brought into this world by a wonderful man; a man that we will never forget even though we are separated by time and eternity!  Without him we would not be celebrating another milestone in our lives!  Thanks Doc for one of the best gifts ever. Thanks for our lucky seventh year.  We will love you forever for it!

Happy SEVENTH birthday Buddy! And thank you for being one of the best things to ever happen to me! I love you to Pluto and back again…. and I always will!

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