My children are all coming home tomorrow.

Each one of the older boys decided with their wives/fianc├ęs/girlfriends that they would spend Thanksgiving with HER family and Christmas with HIS family. That was fine by us – till Thanksgiving. Starting out sort of sad just the four of us, but we started cleaning out closets and rearranging furniture and decided to put up the tree and decorate and the mood lifted. We agreed that we were just thankful to be together. Thankful that we’re going to have everyone for Christmas. Thankful that baby Emily will be here soon. Thankful we were all relatively healthy. Thankful we’ve managed to keep covid out of Ian’s life. Thankful for bonus checks that pay for Christmas for a large family. Thankful our biggest bitch yesterday was having “only” two kids at home. Some people have none. Never had any.

I just got off work. Yeah. I think they’re trying to kill me. 12 hour days get old. I’m old. Old and tired. But when I get there, I feel alive. I run for 12 hours straight. I break once for 30 minutes, and then I’m off again. But when I get home? Egads. My body reminds me that I am almost 50. eYuck.

My husband wants to rent a cabin – a large cabin or several small cabins with a central lodge. He wants to do this at Christmas next year. And every year after that until we can afford our own cabin. He wants to spend Friday night through Sunday afternoon there. Whole family. Us and my mom and my sister’s family. Everyone together. Egads. Only two nights though. We did it before in Florida. Rented a large house in Orlando for all of us. Now we want to rent a large cabin. I saw one while browsing through different sites my future daughter in law gave me for their wedding. Now I can’t remember where the fuck it was. It’d have to be close as I wouldn’t have the time off. I’d work Fri, Sat nights. Maybe I’d be on days again by then, but I would still have to slip out from 3am to 11am on Saturday – which would be “Christmas morning”. Fri night everyone would get there and it would be Christmas eve. Decorate a tree and play games. We love pictionary and that nasty one with the black box. Hilarious. I always win. Cause I’m nasty.

Anyfucking way. We would wake up Saturday morning and open presents. Only I won’t be there. Sad face. Totally. So, they told they would have a pancake breakfast and make the kids wait until I got there about noon. THen SUnday we would have brunch and everyone would go home. I think it sounds great. Now to find somewhere that won’t cost me a retirement.

Gawd I should be in bed. Just hate to say goodbye to the day. I’m still sitting here enjoying my Saturday evening after work, and you sleeping peeps are almost 4 hours in to your next day. I’lll wake up around 9am, and that suits me fine. I have never slept this late in my life. But i Just gogogogo. I can’t think that way. And I hate thinking.

Just sitting here with my cat.

I’d take a pic of my baby boy, but phone’s in the other room and I ain’t walking that far. Not like I live in a mansion and our room is in the west wing, but I’m fucking lazy like that. I walk close to 30k steps every fucking day. I love it. I gotta move. But — BUT — when I’m tired, I just want to sit in the quiet with my ice cream and my double down, and refuckinglax.

I have a dead lady on my laptop. I Haven’t moved it becaust lady bugs are lucky to me, and if I throw his out side, perhaps my luck will get chucked too. So, he stays. Along with the wall hanging my sister made me 30 years ago that used to say God Bless Our Home. It now says Our Bless Home. It stays. DON’t fucking touch it. God already fell off and we couldn’t find it. That’s when I should have just known shit was never gonna be easy.

SPeaking of God. I am speaking to God again. For those that care. Like i said, I am getting rid of the baggage I have carried around for so long. That means forgiving God as well because deep down I know , or at least I believe, that God does not steer our vessels. Sometimes I feel he intervenes if the results won’t have an impact on more important things later. Things that need to happen for some reason or another. But I also believe that miracles are real. Perhaps whatever had to happen wasn’t in the cards, maybe God steps in to make sure it gets done. Like maybe the fact that there should have been AT LEAST 50,000 deaths had the Towers been full. Or had it happened an hour or two later. Any lost life is tragic, but to think about what could have been happened – maybe should have happened – but didn’t for some reason. Maybe God was that reason. I don’t know. I know that there have been instances where I know Someone has had a hand in my life. I also know — no, I am told and am trying to believe that God was even there on the days He could do nothing at all. It’s the hand tied thing that bothers me. Sometimes. I try to bigger picture it. It’s hard when you talk about my son specifically. There is nothing but what I have here and now. I could give two shits about the bigger picture where he’s concerned. But that’s just me. I’m a hateful bitch .

Maybe God isn’t supposed to intervene. Nah, I don’t buy that. Who would God answer to? His mom? He’s God. So maybe it’s not all free will. Maybe there’s some destiny in there. Some path. Some laid out plan that we should adhere to in order to have a full life and to perpetuate the planet in some way. And we just go off willy nilly and do what ever the fuck we want. We’re like the wild ants a dad uses in the ant farm and then watched in horror as they battled and destroyed each other through the glass. God is watching in horror through the glass. Maybe saving what He can.

I should be in bed. Yeah, I should. I’m jawjawing about nothing anyhow.

Shower was as I hoped it would be. Thank God.

I have some pictures. I got my elephant, and we got his trunk in the air. This fucking shit isn’t letting me upload my pictures. I’ll try again later.

I swear to Jesus that I hear myself saying shit or see myself doing shit that is very unlike me. I’ve begun shedding everything that drags me down. Life drags us down enough without extra bullshit baggage on top of it. Friends that don’t realize their buttons dial out too, but get pissed at you when it’s been months since you spoke. And then after 25+ years of friendship, they erase themselves from your life because they’re not strong enough to handle your son’s declining health. Fuck that. I’d rather sit here alone.

I stopped watching TV and Movies a long time ago because I can make MY life just as exciting as that shit. I don’t need to worry about pretend people – because I will. Worry. I’ll fret over some make believe garbage because that’s just the idiot I am. So, I don’t watch anymore. Nothing. If I’m really really bored, I will watch some TV with Jason. But that happens maybe once every so many months. And it’s usually some news or Naked and Afraid or Deadliest Catch or maybe that one where they run across the obstacles? I laugh my fucking ass off at that one, but I can’t work the tv/cable when I’m alone, so I can’t watch shit anyway.

Wait, I lie. I do watch football now though. Not every game, but ones that interest me. Very exciting and a no fucking brainer. You do not need to think when you watch football. I love that. THAT’S what I have surrounded myself with. Things I don’t have to worry about. And it feels amazing, I must admit.

I also can’t sit still long enough to watch anything, so there’s that. They [docs] think it’s tremors caused by a medication I take. My doc think it’s just adhd. I pace because it’s so bad. I fucking vibrate on the inside. Pacing or hard work helps get rid of the constant need to move. If I sit too long, I swear the vibration will reach allllllllllmost the level of pain. It’s like being so uncomfortable that it hurts. It’s all I can think about when I sit. Work is great because I can move. That’s all I do. Home? Egads. My husband would never leave the couch if there was a shawshank redemption channel. TV on 24/7 when I am not around. No thanks.

Besides, we only get so many life minutes on this Earth, and no one but God knows how many you have left. When I told that my son had Duchenne 10 years ago, something changed. Clicked. Turned on. Maybe something was turned off? Who knows. But I’m not the same. I’m older, and I hope to God I’m wiser. But I’m also kinder. I do not say anything that might make a person feel anxiety or shame or guilt or embarrassment or anger or anything negative. I will not be somebody’s breaking point. It doesn’t matter what you have to say to a person – did you get that part? It Doesn’t Matter What You Have to Say — it can done two ways. You can tear somebody down, or help build them up. Shitty worker? Find a good quality and shine on it a time or two, and let them know you noticed their hard work. They’ll start to do more to get more praise. You can easily turn someone into a good employee – but only if they see themselves as the change makers. Or, you can tell them gently that you noticed they were having trouble getting the baseboards clean, did you want some help next time so I can show you how I do it?

It’s not that hard. It works every time I’ve done it. And I was a manager for ten years. Or, I could reprimand them and basically tell them they suck at cleaning and see how much that improves their work. Ten fold, I bet.

Where the fuck was I? Oh yeah. So be nice. You do not know what kind of shit sandwich life is trying to shove down the throat of the person standing next to you. Might be nastier than yours.

I tell people I love them. We hug good bye every time. No one ever knows for sure how long they have on this planet. Jason and I are getting older. We’re now in that bracket where no one even raises an eyebrow if you were to stroke out of this life. Yep, totally within reason given their age. That’s fucking scary. Sort of. I can start to see how you might be ready to exit stage left after spending 100 or so years here on Earth. You get tired. And I’m tired of being tired. And I ain’t talking about being sleepy. I’m heavy, and I know why, but knowing that I’m just depressed about Ian solves nothing. He’s still sick. It will never be as good as it is today, because he gets worse every day. How’s that for ya? Every fucking day from here on out will be shit because you will spend it weeping for your son. One way or the other.

Eat that sammich.

Geebus. Settle down.

Damn, it’s 2am. I have dirt streaks on my arms and dirt in my hair. Think Jason would be pissed if I just laid down? We’re about to find out. ..

I think I’m done messing with it ….

It ain’t all that, and I’m not altogether sure where I’m going with it or who will know about it and if I’m going to censor my mouth.

But there it is. Will this site die? I don’t know. It’s been dying for years. I love it here and i hope to find a balance soon where I can write again. I miss it. ANd I hope that moodygigi is a release for those emotions and feelings associated with the baby and family in general. I want this blog to be me. I hope I can have my cake and eat it too.

Depression .

Not being able to call the fucking doctor that can help you because you need fucking help to call the doctor. I have the number … now to find it in me to call. I have to switch docs again because I just can’t hack the receptionist anymore. I know that sounds childish, but she’s a hag. A bitch. A loud bitch who refuses to hear me out and just wants to tell me what she doesn’t really know. The doc wasn’t all that anyway. Rip all my meds from me and jack up my lithium – to 1.9 – yeah. For those that know lithium levels – that’s a might bit high. I usually hang around .7 = .6 to 1.2 is the acceptable range. Too high can kill your ass. Idiots. So , I keep searching for someone to simply refill what’s been working for 8 years. THat’s all I want.

I realized today that I sound crazed. I’m not.

I’m just … sad.

We’re having a baby shower for Emily in two weeks. I’m very excited and nervous. I’ve pretty much planned it, and if it stinks, it’s my fault. We’re having a family party with his/her friends. A party. A celebration. With presents and games and cupcakes and laughter. I hope laughter. I need to laugh more.

Ok, since you asked. It’s pink and grey elephants. The mama – S a r a h – is into darker colors. I think pink grey and black look awesome together, so that’s sort of the colors for the shower. Not much black, but lots of grey and pink. Elephants. Not sure why. I hope she likes them.

Cause I might have gone a little nutzo. I don’t think so, but everyone else does. Humor me if you have a minute. Am I nuts?

I have this cake – it’s at 2pm so I don’t have to feed anyone, but there will be tons of cupcakes and mints and nuts. The cake is a diaper cake. With elephants.

Isn’t it darling? lol

Then I might have bought this fellow,

To do something like this ….

with 90 of these ….

two dozen grey/metallic balloons, and this …

Not sure if we will use all of this shit, but I’m letting the girls run wild with that idea. The girls being my daughter, and 3 of my daughter in laws, or soon to be daughter in laws. S A R A H is out for now. It’s a surprise. She knows she’s getting a shower, but everything’s a secret.

So they walk in to find elephant sitting on a table, and pink and grey balloons everywhere. I have masks for everyone, a sign about the masks, and a mask for him and her.

but it’ll be white masks with pink feet

We’ll play scavenger hunt while everyone gets here …

WHen everyone gets there, we’ll move on to the real games. Not many, as with 50 people, it’ll be a long shower. First of, there are teams of 5-6 people. People that know each other – whole families, long time friends and their wives, my kids and their SOs – so that everyone feels comfortable and has a good time.

After the scavenger hunt, the winning table gets a handful of hershey kisses (pink wrappers). Sarah will get a small gift – pacifiers, bottles, rattles, nail kits, etc. Next, is a diaper relay. 5 members of your team have to diaper, undiaper, then pass the baby to hte next person. 5 times. Winner gets candy while she gets gift. Then music trivia – songs with baby in the title. let them hear so many seconds and record the title and artist. THen there is a playdough family making contest. Each team will have 4 tubs of playdough, and has to make the best little family – austin and sarah will judge. Then we watch her open presents, while each table designs a onesie. No game on that one, as then people would rush, and i wanted people to take their time with this one.

What else,…. Ok, so I might have bought 8 different baby dolls for the 8 teams playing diaper relay. But I had to. Maybe i had to buy pink tablecloths and napkins and streamers and grey accents as well. i may have bought tiny but not so tiny a little one could choke — pacifiers for cupcake toppers.

Am I crazy? first grandbaby, yeah, but i’d spend it for every damn one of them.