I Know You’re Built To Love, But Broken Now, So Just Try, Yeah I know You’re Chokin’ On Your Fears

So never in my wildest dreams did I expect this to happen. We went to get the mail yesterday and there were a few small packages in it, one for each of the kids and myself. From E. Not gonna lie at first I was like wtf? For a quick instant I was like is it something dangerous? What could it possibly be? Why after all these years, over 6 to be exact, would my ex be mailing something to his kids for the first time ever? So I sat in the front of my car and opened the Little E’s package first before handing it over just in case it was something that was better off handled by me. Is that a federal offence? I’m not 100% sure, but as a mother I’m sure you’d do it to if your ex sent your kids a small package in the mail for the first time ever after being apart for 6 years. I wanted to make sure it was something that would be good for Little E. Not harmful.

Surprise of my year when I looked in a saw a book and a card! I peeked in the card an saw the start of a nice note written to Little E. I opened Z’s package and saw something similar so I handed the packages back to the kids and told them they were from their dad.

I asked them to wait to open them and we called E so he could see their reactions as they opened the small gifts. I figured he had done this small thing for his kids he should at least be able to enjoy it. He picked up as I was pretty sure he would as I know he’s not working and doesn’t leave the house often due to his mental health issues, and watched the kids open their gifts.

I had to read the cards to the kids for them since he had written in cursive, and I will admit he did a really good job. Never in over the dozen years of knowing E has he written me a card, and now these heartfelt cards had words like I’m proud of you and you’re growing into a smart young woman etc. They weren’t just left at the writings that the cards had preprinted inside. It was really nice to see.

Then I opened my envelope and there, for the first time was an ugly ass purple card for Mother’s Day. The first one I’ve ever gotten from the father of my kids. Saying thank you for being a good mom.

And I was speechless. I teared up. Because I have to admit this week I felt like calling E and bitching at him to say I’ve been raising these kids on my own for the last 6 years without so much as a thank you, but I restrained myself One, because I’ve never done that before so why start now, and two because I’ve been really trying hard to control what kind of energy I put into the world, and also because I know he struggles with the reality of other people’s life’s at he is dealing with so much in his own mind. So I didn’t want to put that on him. So I didn’t call.

But when that card came in the mail I felt guilty for putting those thoughts out there. Yes, I needed him to acknowledge that I’ve been doing a great job and that I’ve been doing it alone. But I also need to keep my own mind in check of how I think of other people.

So I just wanted to share that my kids received the first ever gifts from their dad this week. Ones that I didn’t shop for on his behalf, and kind heartfelt written cards that they’ll treasure for a long time. And maybe it doesn’t seem that important to you, because your family is great and your dad does that stuff for you all the time, but just know I’ve been praying for this for a long time. And it’s beautiful to see it happen. And to see my kids hold those books, and get something I couldn’t give them no matter how hard I tried.

Was heart breaking and wonderful at the same time.


-Be Kind/Halsey and Marshmello-

Let’s Go Don’t Wait This Night’s Almost Over

So, in a world filled with COVID-19, I’m going to write my first post in over a month and not mention it at all… well at least not again lol. I’m going to tell all of you who have been checking my site on the daily (yeah I browse my stats, I see y’all, thanks for your dedication. It’s obviously more than I had to my writing this past little while) about my date.

That’s right I said it. I, the previously undateable girl, went on a date. An organic, non-online tinder-esk arranged date. An actual ‘you busy Friday? date. Me.

Hey these are crazy times right? I guess stranger things are happening, so why not this to?

Just as this whole pandemic was starting (I said pandemic not the dreaded C-word) I was headed to a potluck some friends were having with my kids and invited a neighbor and her son to come. She couldn’t make it since her brother had just recently moved in with her and so I offered to take her son anyway to give her and her brother some time to hang out. So sweet of me hey? So I drive to pick up her boy and that’s when I met her brother J.

Now I’m gonna be completely honest, as I do here on my blog. J’s fine. And I don’t mean fine as in fine like boy he fine, but more of a he’s just ok type of fine. So don’t get your panties up in a bunch when you realize that obviously he’s the dude I’m talking about when I say I went on a date and I’m only using the word fine to describe him. But that’s the best word I have. He’s not amazing. He’s fine. He’s not talk dark and handsome. He’s fine. Actually he’s super tall, but that still only puts him at fine. Sure he was super kind when I met him that night and had a good hand shake (lame that that’s the best redeeming quality I remember) but I’m just really not attracted to him. C? Wtf did you go on a date with him you’re probably thinking? Me too at this point but the past is in the past. This post isn’t about why I did it lol. Just describes the fact that I did. So chill.

Anyway my neighbor did introductions and that was that. A few days later my neighbor texted to say J was BBQing and would the kids and I like to come for dinner? Sure why not. We ended up staying for dinner and then having a bonfire and drinks late into the night, just hanging out. J walked us home and we made out pretty heavily before I sent him home. The next day my neighbor texted saying J was asking for my number was that cool with me? Ok. Here’s where I changed my first opinion of J. Yeah I still think he’s basically fine and definitely not the love of my life. But he’s got gentleman potential. Do I want to be in a long term relationship with him or something/anything? Nope. But I think he’s got something special for some girl. just not me.

Anyway I said sure, I didnt mind he could have my number, and he texted after work that day. He. Is. An. Awful. Texter. He’s also older than me. By a sizeable chunk. Now normally age doesn’t bother me, but when you’re in a whole other generation…. it affects how you interact with the world, so it plays a part. Anyway. He ended coming by the next weekend with my neighbor and her neighbor (who she’s seeing… apparently we like to keep things tight knit over here 😏) to hang out and that’s when on the way out he asked me on the date. Just a quick question on the way out the door. Do you wanna go for dinner Friday night? Yeah I just realized I’ve written all this and haven’t even gotten to the date. So I’ll jump to it.

I said yes, mainly because I was shocked. Because in 32 years I’ve never been asked that, and we all know it’s like a deep dream of mine. Something I’ve always wanted. Also because he was leaning in to kiss me and I really didn’t know what else to think. So I said yes. But as soon as the door shut, I thought, I don’t know if I want to go on a date with that man. I know I don’t like him like that. I made out with him mainly because yep I was drunk and yep because he was there. Call me what you want but that’s the truth. But I don’t want to go down the path that this seemed to somehow be heading in a very fast way.

There were so many thoughts going through my head and I settled on the most important one. Being that I didn’t want my friendship with my neighbor to be ruined if (and when) things broke off if it happened how I thought it would. So I texted her to see if whatever was happening between J and I was ok with her. And she was like ohhh it’s all cool. He smiles and laughs when he texts you. You make him happy. Well obviously it’s cause I’m hilarious, no but for real, now I’m like damn. I don’t wanna hurt his feelings, but I also didn’t want to commit.

Now don’t get me wrong, on Friday night I cleaned up real nice and we went on our date. Kinda. I half-assed it. I didn’t get a babysitter in time. To be honest though I didn’t even ask a single person. So here he is asking if I like lobster and have I been to certain ridiculously fancy restaurants in town and I’m like, I thought this was going to be a casual drinks thing. I don’t want to sit at a quiet chandelier lit dinner with a man I hardly know on our first night together. So I had to explain that to him.

We ended up just going to get drinks at a pub while he had his hands all over me while we waited for our Chinese take out order to be made and then went home and watched a movie.

But then. He stayed the night. It just kind of happened. I didn’t invite him. And he didn’t ask. I would have much preferred he had gone home, but he was pretty drunk so I felt bad. What I felt annoyed about most was how he didn’t give any regard to my kids and how I was going to explain it to them.

I’ve had guys over at night before. And they either left that night or quietly the next morning out my bedroom door. But J? Nope. The next day he walked out my door and loudly says good morning to the kids before I could even react.

They obviously had so many questions after he left. Did J sleep here? Why is he here. And I’m like nope. He just came for a visit this morning. Like fuck J. You didn’t respect me or my life in that moment at all.

So later I explained to him that I think we would be better off as friends. And that I appreciated the date, but I just don’t see us going anywhere.

So there, my friends you have the tale of my first date. The great let down. The time a man took me out. Was going to make reservations until I shot him down. Paid for my night. And I realized that dates are probably not all I worked them up to be. At least not with the wrong person.

Live and learn hey?


– First Date/Blink 182

My Mama Loves, She Loves Me She Gets Down On Her Knees And Hugs Me She Loves Me Like A Rock She Rocks Me Like The Rock Of Ages

*** UPDATE *** I’ve linked my Instagram for pictures. Relevant to the post 😁****

Totally not the topic of my post but I’m at Starbucks writing this morning, since I’m meeting with a friend. Normally when I come and write here, I order my drink in a porcelain cup, you know to save the environment and not use a plastic cup and lid. So I order as per usual, and the barista says they aren’t serving in to-stay cups because of the corona virus. Like what? How will me not a WASHABLE MUG, that should be sanitized thoroughly with hot water and soap be helpful? Sure you don’t want to touch my germs (that I don’t have, since I’m not carrying the virus), but I would place the mug in a wash bucket/bin for you and you use gloves to put it in the dishwasher…. I truly fail to see the benefit of not serving drinks in them during this time other than adding to our pollution.

However, lol. That’s not the point of my blog today. Just a thought I have while writing. Another thought, was I figured out how to edit/make new paragraphs on Little E’s IPad, so I’m moving up in the world. Lol. What’s actually on my mind today, is the facts that we as a family went to the dentist a little while ago. While we were there the hygienist, who is of Asian decent (not normally a factor but plays into the story in a minor way, as a minority in our town plus with her accent) made a comment to me. She’s a very kind woman, maybe late twenties, early thirties with no kids of her own. We’ve been to the dentist a couple times now since moving so we’ve been chatting a bit, I mean as much as you can while your mouth is stuck open while your teeth are being cleaned. So this time, as I was on my way out she said, word for word as it made such and impact on me: “So you adopted your two kids” With such a sweet smile and an air of, oh what a kind thing I’d done to adopt two siblings of colour who must have been from a foreign country and probably are so much better off with me. I must be such a good lady, to have saved them from whatever war zone or something like that. Like I’d rescued them. That sort of tone/look on her face. So I figured if she was going to push the boundaries and make such a statement that was so inconsiderate, and thoughtless, then well… 🤯 I responded with: “No, they’re mine, I grew them in my belly and pushed them out my own vagina. Thanks for asking.” She was so red, rightfully so. And rushed to say it was because they don’t look like me. Ok. Ok, ok okaaaay. I know my kids aren’t like spitting images of me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be considered or thought of as much their mom as other parents who are moms and dads of kids who aren’t mixed race, or look more similar to their children. Or that obtuse people can judge my kids heritage and make them feel like they don’t belong. In fact, I may be more involved in my kids lives than many other parents who look more like their kids than I do. Looking the same as someone doesn’t automatically make you more a parental figure than me. Parenting takes time and effort. It takes imparting wisdom and listening to their deepest fears and helping the kids work through them. It takes years of hard work, trying to figure out how to pay for extra curricular activities on a single mom budget and nights crying alone in bed worrying about their future. It takes hours praying for them, hoping they will make good choices for their own lives, while knowing you can’t protect them from everything, but wishing you could. It takes prepping three meals a day, seven days a week and about a zillion snacks for years, which I’m sure continues even after they move out. It takes holding your tongue when they bring home friends you don’t agree with, then having conversations with them later about being an influential figure not the one influenced. It’s about wiping tears and giving hugs even if your hurting to. It’s about helping with homework even if they teach math stupidly now. It’s about 7:00 am Saturday morning hockey games and Sunday afternoon dance recitals. It’s about showing them love and connection. Its about teaching personal hygiene and sexual education and loving others as well as personal boundaries. It’s helping little humans self discover who they are and teaching them it’s ok to change, or not know. It’s explaining to them when to say sorry, and when to stand your ground. It’s helping them learn about emotion and safe ways to express them. It’s about creating a home environment where they feel safe to come home to when nowhere else in the world is listening to them. The list goes on, and for me, it’s about doing it all by myself. So, yes these are my biological kids, but I think being a parent can be for anyone who has consistently put in that effort, time and love into a child who needs it. So was I offended when the hygienist said that? Not so much offended as shocked. I just figured that in this day in age people wouldn’t be out making statements about others life’s so blatantly, without and background information or invite. Do I blame here for thinking that? Not necessarily, since she’s not far from the truth. My kids and I don’t look a ton alike. What I would do though, is caution her from making those comments so haphazardly in the future again. Other individuals may not take her tactless comments so lightly. I am basically the only parent my children have known, and I will teach them that looks now, and in the future will never matter. Because it is 100% on the inside what matters. -Loves Me Like A Rock/Paul Simon-

We Don’t Fit In Well Cause We Are Just Ourselves / You Look Stunning Dear

Z has her first crush and it is adorable. It’s one of Little E’s basketball teammates and friends from school named Tyson. He’s a very friendly boy and when he’s over to play they include Z which she obviously loves. Over the weekend she had told me that she only likes two boys, Little E and Tyson and I said that’s fine you don’t have to like all the boys, as long as you are kind to them. But last night at basketball practice I saw her crush in action for the first time and realized it was more than just an ‘I like him the way I like my brother’

It was a quick water break and Tyson came to grab his water bottle from beside where we were sitting, which I should note that Z had brought for him since he had forgotten it at school, so she made sure to save it for him and brought it full of fresh water to practice. Anyways, Tyson comes to grab a drink and Z says hi Tyson with the slight giggle and smile and all the innocence of a 6 year old girl crushing on a 9 year old boy with me sitting right there. And Tyson being the wonderful kid he is says hi Z and has his drink with a smile. Then she kinda giggles and looks back at me. Then Tyson calls her name again and we both look and he’s making a silly face at her which she loves (oh kids) and he runs back on to the court.

I thought it was the most adorable things ever to see the whole interaction. How sweet and innocent and friendly they both were. Tyson’s a great kid. He’s also the boy who after dinner at our house announced he was excited to go through puberty one day (I can’t remember if I blogged about that or just texted his mom laughing so hard about it) he’s an only child but well rounded and a good friend to Little E and apparently Z too.

I’m looking forward to what this grows into.

When his mom showed up to pick him up for practice we chatted for a bit and I mentioned that Z had a little crush. Her response surprised me. His mom and I have become acquaintances throughout this school year and she’s been over for coffee a couple times but it takes time to really know a person right? So when she said ‘Oh that’s ok, I’d be cool with a little colour in the bloodline’ or something along those lines. I was completely thrown off. She went on about how their pale Scottish skin could use some colour etc but I wasn’t really listening at that point anymore.

I guess it didn’t occur to me that my kids would face this kind of racism in their life. Subtle. But extremely there. Words that don’t need to be said and can be hurtful.

All it is, is a harmless crush between kids. There was no need to bring melanin into it. And to have that be your first reaction must mean it’s near the forefront of your thoughts. As opposed to the innocence and beauty of the relationship forming, your thoughts jumped to colour. I dunno. Not the best foot to put forward in my opinion.

So. I just felt it was the cutest moment on the kids part I wanted to share. And hope that as they grow older they learn healthy ways of interacting with each other. That help each other grow into beautiful human beings. Weather they end up together or not.


-Beautiful People/Ed Sheeran-

It’s My Birthday Song, In My Happy World I Know It’s Gonna Be A Good Day Oh Yeah, Today Is My Birthday

I’m 32.

My birthday this year was what I’m assuming everything I should expect for my life from here on out. It was last Sunday, and I decided instead of wallow around at home for the day, I’d get out of the house and just basically try and forget I’m gonna be old and wrinkly and grey and alone soon.

I took the kids out to Denny’s (SUPER fancy I know) but I got breakfast for free and I’m trying to maintain a strict budget so this way we still had a nice sit down breakfast that I didn’t have to make and I didn’t have to clean up after. So to me, nowadays, that’s fancy. I should mention while we’re on the topic of fancy, Little E dressed up for me. He is a strict sweatpants and sports shirt kinda boy. Athletic wear all the way. So when I told them we were going out for breakfast for my birthday he pulled up in his one pair of jeans I make him keep in the depts of his drawers in case of like a funeral or something, and a collared dress shirt. I guess I’m raising him right after all. Z wears dresses 24/7 so it was just nice that she brushed her teeth for the ‘occasion’.

I came out of the bathroom after doing my makeup (for once) because if there’s any day to feel extra beautiful, I guess 32 years old is the day and the kids had made me little homemade cards ♥️. Adorable hey?

So anyway on the way to breakfast we stopped at one of the wineries that we live beside and took a few pictures because 1) it’s my birthday 2) who knows when I’d see Little E looking so sharp and it needed to be documented. Then off to breakfast.

Afterward we wandered the mall for a bit, I obviously got my free Starbucks to enjoy and we just browsed like 16 year old VSCO girls. While we were at the mall my oldest friend S called to wish me a happy birthday. S and I haven’t been tight during our adult life since our respective lives have taken us on our own paths but we’ve known each other since we were in grade 4, and we always come back to each other. It’s those friends that you have that no matter what, you can just pick up where you left off, trust levels the same, bonds not broken, you just know that yep your good for life no matter what shit happens. That’s S and I. And it’s so unlikely if you were to look at us, or even our lives. I’m a towering 5’10 overweight white girl and S is barely 5 foot and comes from a strict Asian home and has obtained a Masters Degree. She travels the world with both her family and her partner, and just basically…. is so different than me in every way. Which is great because then we at least have stories to share when get back together, it not the same stuff we’re struggling with, we have different experiences and view points, yet maintain respect for each other. Anyways chatting with her was good.

My little sister also called and I sang the itsy bitsy spider for my niece in the mall, which has become her billboard #1. My parents did FaceTime and I was expecting my dad at least to sing happy birthday as is was his tradition every year, so when I saw the name pop up on the phone I braced myself to be put through the song, but for some reason this year there was no song. He used to even call me in Kenya to sing, but this year no song. I guess 32 is finally the year when you’re to old to have your parents sing happy birthday to you. 👎🏼

My co-workers all forgot about my birthday which was fine and disappointing at the same time. I know that doesn’t make sense, but on one hand, you want to at least be acknowledged, but you don’t wanna stand there awkwardly while they sing to you. So fine/disappointing.

Anyways I guess the main point of this post is….

I’m 32. And I managed to not cry on my birthday. I realized that I’m going to have birthdays and get older weather certain people acknowledge it or not. I understand it is possible to have a birthday pass, a “celebration” of a year of my life, without receiving a single gift or intimate hug or a bite of cake. Those things don’t stop the passage of time. So I can just choose to age gracefully and with dignity based on the choices I’ve made in my own life, not on how others have chosen to pour into my life, or chosen to remain absent. Either way, I’m getting older. And as they say, age is just a number. You don’t become a year older in a day. It’s the whole years worth of experiences and wisdom and time that got you there.

It’s how much you value it that is most important, although just one gift would’ve made it a little more special, not gonna lie.


-Madonna/B-Day Song-

If You Find There The Meaning Of What Happiness Is Then A New Life Will Begin

I got a cat.

If you knew me before, you’d think wtf C. You hate animals. Which is exactly what my older sisters response was when I posted about him on Instagram. But the thing is, people can change. People can grow. People can realize that maybe the circumstances under which they were living their lives previously were not ones which they chose themselves. So people can evolve to recreate their own more suitable environment in which they will thrive.

Me. I’m people.

And in this case I was at the point of such loneliness that I decided that I would overcome my fear of animals, yes I said fear, and adopt a cat. You see by this point in my life, every circumstance and previous interaction had built up not only a dislike of cats and dogs, but a small fear. They bite. They scratch. They were just an overall nuisance in my mind.  And to be honest they would mess up my very organized life. Potential poop everywhere. Extra expense. Hair. The list could on and on. Not to mention the most important fact being, I am supposedly allergic to fur and feathers. At least I was back in the day.  This was of course found out at a young age when I went for a horseback ride at my great-uncles farm for 0.02 seconds and had to be pulled off the horse and thrown in the shower to wash off the horse hair as my mom called the ambulance. The result are hazy to me since I remember mostly not breathing, and flaring up like the GOODYEAR blimp as far as the rash went. But after a series of allergy tests soon after, it was determined that animals were not in my future thanks to allergies to fur and feathers and the dander found in them. So we said goodbye to the cat and bird we currently had and miraculously my life long eczema I’d been living with started to get better. Yeah… you’d think my parents would’ve considered that possibility sooner.

Anyways, that’s probably another reason I don’t really like animals. We’ve been enemies so to speak from the start.

But here I am. Almost 32 years old and finding out that yep. I want to add another dimension to my life. So I haven’t had an allergic reaction in a long time. A bunch of my friends have dogs and I’m at their houses all the time. Granted I’m not letting the dogs lick my face or anything (ew on so many levels) but I’m not ending up at the hospital in any case. We house sat for our friends a while back while they went to Zambia and they had the 3 cats. We fed them and did the poop duty, and I was fine. So I’ve come to think at this point in my life I’m pretty sure I can’t use the allergy excuse anymore. I’m thinking I’ve outgrown it.

So, since I’ve moved to Kelowna, I’ve been considering a pet. I know at this point in our life we don’t have the time to invest in a dog. The walking everyday and all that. The kids are in school and I’m at work and I’m NOT willing to have accidents in the house from a puppy. So I’ve been browsing the SPCA site every once in while, just to see what was there, but not telling the kids. Then last week I saw him. His name was Baxter, and he is a 14 years old domestic long haired (I may or may not have choose him based on how well he would match my house, I’ll never tell). Yes, that’s old for a cat. Which I’m fine with. I’m not ready to make a 15+ year commitment to something if I don’t even know weather or not I like being a cat mama yet. The day I saw him I went to the shelter for the first time in my adult life with the sole purpose to pet a cat. He was super chill and laid there and let me stroke him. I’ll be honest, I was probably more scared of him than he was of me, just based on…. well nothing at all. I just was. Because of my body’s past reactions to animals. Because of avoiding them in the past. Because of the potential of getting scratched or bit or anything.  Just because I let fear grow over time with my avoidance.

But I put my big girl pants on and filled out the paperwork and took him home that day anyway.

I picked up the kids from daycare and we went to the local pet store to get all the supplies we needed, which was everything since this was unplanned, and went home.

We have renamed him and thankfully our naming skills have greatly improved since fish one and fish two. We finally settled on Benjamin Maxwell (insert our last name here) the Fourth. Or Benji for short.

He spent the first day in my bathroom since after my extensive Google research I found they need their own space after a move and to calm their nerves. The kids were disappointed that he didn’t want to play with them right away. Oh who am I kidding, they were disappointed I didn’t get a dog. Little E even went so far as to mention that I made a big decision without a family meeting first (fair point, but too bad), but he was happy with the result.

How do I feel now? A week into it?

The first little bit was rough I’ll be honest. After the first night I let him out of the bathroom obviously, and he made his way straight under my bed where he’s spent most of his days since. His nights? OMG. At first, he would just go eat, drink and poop then head back under the bed. So I would wake up to every sound he made since I’m a very light sleeper and he would pause his eating or drinking if I woke up and we would both freeze. I didn’t want to disturb him and he… well I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking. But after a few minutes he would continue. This would happen ALL throughout the night. So needless to say I didn’t sleep very well for the first 2-3 nights.

He also would avoid the kids at all costs. Which was sad since all they want to do is play with him. But slowly he’s coming around and now the last few nights he’s been up on bed throughout the night meowing at me to pet him and letting me brush him and purring non-stop.

Last night he FINALLY let the kids both pet him for a bit while I was reading to them. We started reading the Chronicles of Narnia as a family and Benjamin decided to join us. I promise you it made Z’s week.

So, yes. I’m glad we got him. He’s a very calm and quite cat. There’s been no scratching or biting. No poop where there shouldn’t be. Yes there’s a ton of hair everywhere, but he’s worth it. Because as I sat in bed last night with him snuggled up to me, I realized this unfortunate thought.

This is the most simple and long-standing, healthiest relationship I’ve ever had with a male. He has met more of my needs than any man ever has over the course of seven day without draining anything from me in the process.  He hasn’t requested anything from me. He hadn’t left me feeling like shit. He hasn’t frustrated me. He’s made me smile. He’s given me affection. He’s kept me warm at night.

I needed this a long time ago, so I’m glad I got over my fears and did this for myself. Now I’m one less lonely girl.


-CATS/The Moments Of Happiness-

There’s No Way I Can Save You ‘Cause I Need To Be Saved Too

Today I found myself sitting on a pile of darks while the white’s spun around in the washing machine.

Never in my life have I seemed so pathetic to even myself. Sinking down into a pile of dirty laundry filled with Little E’s sweaty soccer uniform and dirty towels that I’ve used to squirt all over while masturbating and sandy bathing suits mixed with the kids clothes covered in art supplies and grass stains. All just to try and have a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself.

So I closed the door as quietly as possible and sat on the pile as I watched the washer start to do it’s thing. I could hear the kids playing hide and seek and I tried to just focus on relaxing. Something I’m not good at.

Whenever I’ve gone for a massage or anything, the practitioner is always commenting that I need to relax more, that I’m tense. I honestly don’t know what they mean. I literally live my life at this tense level and when I’m laying there on that bad I AM AS RELAXED AS I CAN BE! WTF do you think I’m here for a massage? I’m trying to relax more. You do your thing and massage all my stress away, don’t stress me out more by telling me I’m to stressed! Agh!

Anyways, my newest reason for stress is back to my headaches/seizures. My headaches have been out of control for a few months and no amount of sleep, advil, crying, hot showers or medication has proven to be able to stop them. So my doctor ordered an EEG for me. “An electroencephalogram (EEG) is a test used to find problems related to electrical activity of the brain. An EEG tracks and records brain wave patterns” – Thanks Google. Anyways, I went last Friday to the hospital for it. This isn’t my first go at something like this. I’ve had numerous EEG’s, MRI’s and even CAT scans in regards to my seizures. All of them showing that yes, there’s stuff going on up there that’s out of the ordinary, but no one knows why or what to do.

So I’m laying there on the bed once the tech gets all 29 electrodes glued to my head and we go through the deep breathing they have you do and then they have a flashing light set up to see how the brain waves react, which is fine for me since my seizures are not triggered by light, and then I’m just laying there for the last 20 minutes or so. That’s when it happened. Finally while I’m all hooked up to wires and everything to have it recorded on paper for proof.

I had one of my ‘experiences’

Just like a few times before, the world around me melted away and I was nothing and nowhere and everything was complete peace. Until the tech started moving around slowly and said “OK C, That’s it” She then proceeded to ask me if I had a Neurologist in the area (No) and if I had other recent scans handy to give the Dr. (Not on my person at the time, should I have brought them?). And that was that. She pulled out the electrodes and washed out the glue with zero regard to my fresh wash’n’go, messing the hell outta my hair, and I was on my way.

My phone rang on the drive home but I missed it as it was still on silent from the scan, but the voicemail was from the hospital:

IMG_2902

I’m so messed up lol. The Dr. who read my results is requesting me as a patient lol, right after the tech explained to me that appointments with a Neurologist normally take a few months to get, and are on a first come first serve basis. So whichever Dr has a space available next, goes to the person at the top of the list. But here I am, getting name requested by the Dr. himself! I must have some juicy problems going on up there!  I feel like this is way back in elementary school when teams are being picked for soccer at recess but now for the first time I was chosen first. (Yeah I was not an athletic kid lol)

Never in my wildest dream did I think I’d get pushed to the front of the line because of how fucked up my brain was/is. It’s validating in a way. A really weird messed up way, but a way nonetheless. Just to know that everything I’ve been going through is real. And has been recorded on paper by a legitimate hospital, and an actual Dr. might have a solution for me.

And in that weird way, I found myself trying to relax in the dark and quiet to just have some me time this morning in a pile of dirty laundry. This lasted all of 6 minutes based on the washing machine timer, until Z came and sat on the pile of lights beside me and started chatting away. Not in an annoying way, but not in a quiet way either. Asking her cute questions like what are you doing mom? Oh I’ll sit to! What time until my friends come over? What time is it now? How much longer until that time? Oh that’s my blanket in the wash. Oh there goes my shirt. Hey that’s my blanket again. And so it went a stream of endless questions.

So I just settled in and answered her questions as patiently and as detailed as I could. Knowing that this knowledge is the basis of the rest of her life. These questions are empty space in her mind and the answers I give her are building bridges in her mind. I can’t do my kids wrong because my mind is messed up and overloaded with stress. I want to make sure my kids don’t have faulty connections that start to break down as they get older like their dad and I have struggled with. I want them to have strong knowledge and minds that hold them through their life. Our being here in life is so much more than meets the physical eye and I have to do my best to not only heal past hurt on my part so it doesn’t trickle down to them, but also help create new bridges and connections in those newly formed spaces that previously held nothing or damaged things. So I take my time. I answer questions with peace and strong lasting knowledge and hope that what I help create in them has a loving, beautiful and lasting effect. That can pass down through generations to come.

Whether or not my brain can handle seeing it.


-Post Malone Ft. Young Thug / Goodbyes-