Last spring I decided to go back to school to give myself a greater sense of purpose. When Lauren and I moved to Omaha I signed up for online classes so I could continue my program without taking time off. I am taking 17 credit hours this semester….What was I thinking?

College has been pretty hard so far, it’s not easy teaching an old dog new tricks. I am keeping my head above water and I am thankful that I have school as a distraction while I am here in Omaha. One of my classes required I update my profile on blackboard (college online page). I had to  add a picture to my profile. It was very difficult to find a suitable picture. I don’t have too many pictures of just myself. I am past the appropriate age for selfies. I didn’t want a picture that would showcase the fact that I am roughly 25 years older than all my classmates. I checked on Facebook and started with my most recent albums and worked my way back. The picture I ended up choosing was from Kelsey’s Junior ring day. It was a picture of the two of us and I was able to crop her out. Every time I log on to work on my homework that picture of myself is staring back at me. 

Once I realized when the picture was taken I knew why I had subconsciously chosen it. That was the last picture taken of me before Lauren’s accident. It was taken 3 days before that awful phone call that changed the course of my life.  My happiness and easy life show on my face, I miss that look in my eyes. 

The difference between then and now is that even when I am happy I am still grieving so deeply that I can’t be joyful. I thought about changing the picture once I realized what it symbolized. Instead, I have decided to use it as a motivator to be joyful regardless of my current situation. I read a quote the other day in a book that said; “ A mother is only as happy as her saddest child.” That quote really touched my heart. Then I thought to myself….”Shit….Why in the hell did I have so many kids? Someone is always bound to be sad. 

Even though that picture was just 2 years ago my face has aged at least 10 years. Along with the under eye bags and fine lines, I have also received a gift.  That gift is a new appreciation for life. I have seen my children face big people problems with maturity and grace and I am so incredibly proud of them. Dave and I are apart more than we are together yet we still find time to touch base at least a dozen times per day. Life is slowly getting better and I am thankful for the life I have now but I still long for the ease of my old life.

The happy mom in the pink dress is gone. She no longer exists. The good news is that she has been replaced with a strong, independent, bad ass, traumatic brain injury slayer and she is pretty awesome. She is new and improved. She may have a few more eye bags and fine lines, but she is stronger and wiser. She has a whole bathroom full of eye cream and is working on being joyful. She is inching closer and closer each day!

Motherhood by definition is; the state of being a mother. (I actually looked it up.) 

I am far from wise but what I do know is that motherhood in all of its forms is a gift; the good, the bad, and even the ugly. One common theme throughout motherhood is that every mother believes that God gave her the most beautiful children in the world. Clearly most are wrong because my children truly are the most beautiful…Am I the only one who thinks that? 

I became a mother a few weeks after my 18th birthday. I weighed 137 pounds when I delivered my first baby. I remember thinking that I was the fattest girl in the whole world. That makes me laugh out loud today. 

Raising kids is the hardest job on the planet but it is also the biggest gift. Even the shittiest parts of motherhood are beautiful when you pull back all the layers. I have learned that the early years are super hard but they are also super easy. When my Erin was little she was full of energy. She wore me out like no other toddler, she walked at 8 months and could climb like spiderman. How does a toddler learn to climb up a refrigerator? Especially a refrigerator with a missing handle because she snapped it right off. I somehow survived those years and even survived her teenage years of drunken high school parties disguised as “Mom, I’m going to the movies.” With each stage of motherhood, the job seems to get harder and harder. Now she is a successful ICU nurse and takes care of some of the sickest kids in St. Louis. I no longer worry about her falling from a high cabinet or drinking too much at a high school party.  Now my worries are for her broken heart as she watches some of the strongest mother’s fighting along side of their children who have been given the most unfair, worst set of circumstances. 

One of the advantages for me of becoming a mother at such a young age is that I never really had a chance to realize what the job entailed. My biggest concern was whether or not the stretch marks across my hips would go away. I mean…Oh My God….I thought I might die. Fast forward a decade and a half later, the stretch marks are small potatoes compared to seeing your kid sad after not winning a student council election or not making Varsity soccer. Why didn’t anyone tell me this? Or did they…would I have listened? 

Yet the triumphs are so much sweeter. Seeing your oldest become class valedictorian when you took motherhood 101 instead of getting a high school diploma is pure joy. The pride of motherhood is indescribable. Even during times when things are less than perfect there is always a silver lining. Life is certainly unpredictable and has many ups and downs. Motherhood is such a privilege and I am thankful that God entrusted me with seven of the most talented, good hearted, caring, beautiful children. He also entrusted me with seven of the most difficult, wild, messy, obnoxious and rude children in the world, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The last couple of years have really taken their toll on me. I never thought I would be the type of mom who wasn’t involved in the day to day activities of my kids. Since Lauren’s accident I have lived away from my family for long periods of time. I have lived in Beverly Hills, Downtown Chicago, St.Petersburg Florida (twice), and now I reside in Omaha Nebraska. When I was younger I went from my parent’s house to owning a home as a newlywed. In the last 2.5 years I have lived away from my family in five different apartments alone. This time has definitely taken a toll. This is not the job I signed up for…but that is part of the mystique of motherhood. Do any of us really sign up for the crappy parts? 

Today I actually googled, “The best product for under eye bags”. How did I get here? I guess what I’m trying to say is that motherhood is so much more than “the state of being a mother.” It is the hardest thing, the saddest thing, the funniest thing and the most glorious thing all wrapped up in a shiny bow. It is who I am and I have loved every second of it. Well, not the new bags under my eyes…those really suck… That’s all the wisdom I have for now, I’m headed to Target to pick up the  Olay Regenerist Anti-Aging Eye Roller. 

Shock, Denial, Anger and Acceptance

Grief…it’s a funny thing, okay its really not funny at all but it is peculiar. Ironically my favorite rockstar has an album named shock, denial anger and acceptance. For him it represents his depression. For me those four words represent the last couple years of my life.

The shock occurred when on a typical Friday afternoon I got a phone call from an LA detective telling me that my daughter was involved in a serious accident. That part of my grief lasted for quite a while. I think I walked around the campus of Cedars Sinai with a look of shell shock and zombie like auto pilot demeanor the whole time we were there, 46 days to be exact. I guess the private jet to Chicago snapped me out of my shock a bit. Denial set in as I settled in Chicago. Seriously, I am living alone in an apartment, visiting my brain injured daughter every day?

Anger…that was a tough one for me. I remember feeling anger after Lauren’s shunt surgery in Chicago when she briefly left RIC for surgery at Northwestern. That was the first time anger reared its ugly head. We were only a couple weeks in to inpatient rehab I and I was just learning the ropes of being a caretaker for Lauren. She was still pretty helpless, she could barely hold her head up without support and or coaching. She was incontinent, and was hard to change due to her inability to move her body. The staff at Northwestern wasn’t competent in dealing with a patient with such specific needs. I remember the nurse trying to administer Lauren’s thrush medicine. She asked her to put the medicine in her mouth and swish it around. I thought, “Are you kidding me? She can’t even hold up her head.” I explained to her that she received her medicine via a sponge wand that needs to be placed on her tongue. The next snafu at Northwestern was when Lauren was brought down to CT and brought right back upstairs. They were unable to get the scan because (as was coldly explained within earshot in the hallway), this patient can not follow simple directions.” This is about the time I lost it…I was mad at the world and shamefully I was mad as hell at Lauren. “Why in the hell did she feel like she could cross a 5 or 6 lane road when the caution light was blinking don’t walk? Doesn’t she realize how she has changed my life? I just want to go home, sleep in my own bed, be with my husband, her siblings, go to work and play on the weekends. Is that too much to ask? To add insult to injury she had just been diagnosed with C-Diff and was needing to be changed every 10 minutes. I took it upon myself to take over those duties, it was a dignity thing and I wanted to protect her from outsiders feeling pity for my formerly independent daughter. Luckily Dave had flown to Chicago to be with me and could see I was struggling. He took over waiting for discharge papers and to go with her as she was transported back to RIC. I went back to my apartment to regroup.

Acceptance…Ah that is a strong word. To acceptance I offer a big fat “screw you!!” It is over two years since my grief began and I refuse to accept our situation. In the early days when I was still in shock, I was told that if my daughter lived she we most likely remain in a semi vegetative state. Her future looked bleak and most likely she would always need long term nursing care for her very basic needs. Sometimes I really struggle with my present situation. Logic tells me that things will always be difficult but logic also told me that my daughter would not survive her injuries. It is not always so easy to be  positive. I realize many people pity me for my optimism, you would half to be half crazy to believe Lauren will return to a “normal” life. Good thing I am a little more than half crazy…I am a certified nut case! I am good at pulling it together. In the words of my favorite movie quote from Bridesmaids, “Carol, get your shit together.” I use that often. Back in St. Louis I am busy with my family and it is easy to hold it together. When you set the example for half a dozen other people, hiding your grief is easy peasy, in the silence of Omaha, it’s not so easy.



The Sunday before Lauren moved in at QLI, we went grocery shopping. I bought some celery. For anyone that knows me….I do not eat fruit nor vegetables so even thinking about eating celery is a big move. I told Lauren that as she started her tough journey on Monday, I would do something tough like eat celery. As I drove away Monday night, I stopped at the store and bought the biggest milk chocolate candy bar I could find. It is now the second week and I am feeling pretty disconnected from everything that makes me who I am. I am on the outside looking in. It is hard because I realize that I am exactly where I need to be but I am just so sad. Without having to hold it together for anyone here, I am falling apart. I have had mornings where I literally make myself sick from emotions and throw up. I try to always find the positive even in dark situations…One positive observation is that I bet celery would taste awful coming back up….I wouldn’t know because I haven’t had any yet. The butter pecan ice cream carton is nearly empty though. Another positive is that I am not throwing up  due to pregnancy related morning sickness. Today Sept 2nd I declare that my  pity party is officially over. I said to myself this morning, “Carol, get your shit together.” I put on some lipstick, my figure flattering spandex bike shorts, and hopped on my  bike to clear my head.

Lauren is where she needs to be and she continues to amaze me. Aphasia just plain sucks… I realize that if she would not have had that portion of her brain removed, she wouldn’t have survived, so for that I am thankful and I can deal with the aphasia for now..…  It will take time but she will get there. Life isn’t supposed to be easy, we got this and I truly believe we are on our way to greater things. The road to recovery often feels like it gets longer and longer. That's okay, because Mama Murphy will not accept what others feel is the future. People do impossible things all the time, I believe in the human spirit and more importantly I believe in the power of prayer. I know that God has put my family on this earth to work together for something amazing. Murphy's rule and they sure as hell don’t quit! In the meantime I will stay in limbo on the grief scale because acceptance is just not happening until I see my beautiful girl walk off into the sunset happy and healthy and whole because I am bat shit crazy and will not stop pushing until that happens.

What Is Aphasia?

     What is Aphasia? …….Aphasia is a condition that robs you of the ability to communicate. It can affect your ability to speak, write and understand language, both verbal and written. That is the technical definition that I found on the web……

     To me, Aphasia is so much more. Aphasia is heartbreaking, sad, frustrating, unfair, and hilarious all in one. Watching a loved one search desperately for simple words isn’t easy. Often times I help by finishing her sentences. (I have been doing that for my husband for years.)  I know I’m not “helping” when I do this but I can’t help myself. I hate to see the pain in my daughter’s eyes as she searches for such a simple word.

     I have Googled the word Aphasia so many times that I think I have worn out those letters on my keyboard. There is no quick fix for Aphasia, trust me I’ve looked. Two years ago my daughter was hit by a car and had a portion of her left temporal lobe removed. Aphasia didn’t rear its ugly head until 6 months after her accident.  It was always there, but in the beginning we had bigger hurdles to pass before we were even aware of the Aphasia. Hurdles like; brain swelling, emerging from a coma, learning to hold her head up, sit, walk, swallow etc. My daughter is tougher than the average bear. She has faced every obstacle like a true warrior.

     Aphasia seems to be the obstacle that is keeping her furthest from the finish line. Just like an episode of Ninja Warrior, she has barreled through so many tough obstacles on the course of life. Aphasia is similar to “The Flying Shelf Grab.” She is so close, she makes contact with the shelf, but she just can’t hold on. She is undoubtedly a crowd favorite and has an army of supporters.  She will get this….I just know it. In true warrior fashion she will regroup and work hard to regain what was lost.

     I have watched in awe from the sidelines as the child I gave birth to emerged as such a fighter. She started life with an APGAR score of 3 and proved herself as a fighter on her very first day of life.  As a mother I have learned to roll with the punches and laugh when things aren’t always so funny. In the beginning when she was regaining the ability to speak she never called me by the right name. I was often referred to as “grandma” or “Jason” or whatever garbled sound she was able to make. I have spent hours in doctor office waiting rooms being yelled at in incoherent speech due to my daughter’s frustration. Again, I had to look to my sense of humor to manage as a room full of patients stared and wondered what the hell was going on in the corner of the waiting room.

     Things are still not easy; having a loved one who doesn’t always understand simple words is tough. The brain is so complex that even the experts stand back and scratch their heads. I am committed to finding the absolute best when it comes to rehabilitation for my kid. The problem with Aphasia is that no two cases are alike. There is no cookie cutter plan of action. Rewiring ones brain isn’t easy, especially when the main pathway to language (left temporal lobe) is not just damaged it is gone. It is similar to crossing a bridge that is no longer there. I am confident that we will find a way to either back up and find an alternate route or rebuild a bridge that is stronger than the original one. It will take some time but we are in this for the long haul.

     Brain injuries and Aphasia don’t give a clear-cut diagnosis. Experts can only say that patients continue to improve years after the injury. Rewiring the brain takes time and patience. No two injuries are alike and no one knows what makes one patient improve while another does not. Often times I field questions from people like; will she ever be normal? What I want to say is “Will you always be rude and stupid?”  Instead, I bite my tongue, smile and say; we are hopeful, and please continue to pray for her recovery.  I then say a quick prayer that this person gets a terrible case of explosive diarrhea next time she wears her favorite white pants.

Spandex Sally

    

 Spandex Sally

      I am the furthest thing from a feminist. I have absolutely no problem letting a man take care of me. I do not shovel snow, cut grass or take the trash out.  Come to think of it, I don’t cook or clean too much either….  While I have been in Florida I am the head of the household and I’m not enjoying my new role. The week after I moved in I went to the leasing  office to request my mail key as it suggested in my welcome binder. The office manager introduced me to the maintenance man and let me know that he would make me a key and deliver it to my door. He is a young, fairly good-looking Hispanic man. His accent was so thick that when he introduced himself to me I didn’t catch his name. I decided to just call him “Eduardo.” It seemed to suit him.

     I have been committed to working on myself, (mind, body and spirit) while I am down here in Florida. I unsuccessfully tried that last time I was here. I ended up only going to church once, I ate way too many Mint Oreos and ran so much that instead of losing a few pounds I lost a few toenails and ended up with a horrible case of planter fasciitis. My tan was fabulous but the age spots were an unwelcome new addition to my forehead and stayed with me long after I lost my golden tan.  This year will be different.

     I bought a bike at Target because I still can’t run due to heel pain. Dave came to Florida to help me move in. Basically I just needed him to carry the heavy stuff…(this was way before Eduardo entered the picture.) I bought a bright purple Magna brand mountain bike complete with a floral basket, a padded seat and a fancy clip on water bottle holder thing. She is a real beauty; I refer to her as the purple princess. Back in the day I took a spinning class at the gym and my butt hurt for weeks. I never went back. I am kind of a baby when it comes to pain so not only did I buy a padded seat for the purple princess but I also went to a bike shop and spent an ungodly amount of money on figure flattering spandex padded bike shorts. I decided against the matching form fitting spandex top.

     Dave flew back home and it was just Lauren and I ready to work on another new beginning. I dropped her off at school on Monday and decided to go for a bike ride. I put on my new bike shorts along with a spots bra and tank top ready to ride. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I literarily laughed out loud. The fact that the price of my new shorts could have fed a family in a village somewhere in Ethiopia for 6 months was not lost on me. I decided to embrace my new look, despite how unforgiving it was. I’m sexy and I know it!

     I have never been athletic and I soon learned that answering a phone and riding a bike are tasks that should never be shared. After finding myself underneath the purple princess in a patch of grass near the bike trail I quickly jumped up and looked around to make sure there were no witnesses. Luckily I was all-alone on the bike trail…maybe my outfit scared everyone away. I put my apartment key in my little velcro floral basket in a zip lock baggie. After finishing my ride I parked my bike outside my door and looked for my key. Uhh Ohh, my key was gone. That meant I had to go to the office in my spandex bike shorts and see if they had a master key to let me in. Of course Eduardo was there to save the day and let me in. Crisis averted.

     Over the weekend I caught up on laundry. Somehow I blew a fuse and my washer and dryer quit working. I went to the fuse box and nothing looked out of the ordinary. I figured it was a simple fix but didn’t feel like dealing with it over the weekend. Fast forward to Monday and as I was walking across the parking lot towards my door Eduardo appeared out of nowhere. I told him about my issue with the washer and dryer and he came in and fixed them for me. It took him 30 seconds , it was a fuse problem as I suspected. At this point I’m beginning to suspect that Eduardo thinks I am making up excuses to lure him into my empty apartment.

     Later that afternoon I was at the mailbox trying to figure out how to get the tiny mailbox key to work and who do I see over my left shoulder as I am on my 4^th or 5^th attempt to open the mail box ? Of course, Eduardo himself. I said a quick prayer to God, “Oh dear God if you are really out there, for love of Pete, help me get this mailbox open.” I would have died if I had had to ask for help.

     Flashback to 1998 and Dave and I were living in Florissant. A single mom with a teenage son moved in the rental house next door. She was very friendly and took a liking to Dave. She seemed to always need help with something. I was never the jealous type but it was starting to really grind on my nerves every time she showed up on my front porch and would say, “Dave, can you help me with……”  Her name was Beth but I affectionately referred to her (behind her back of course) as “Braless Beth” I mean seriously, doesn’t that hurt? Those things could use some support. My favorite braless Beth memory was the time she came over when Dave and I were fighting. I can’t remember what it was about but I’m sure it was nothing I did wrong, he probably did something stupid, (per usual). Anyhooo, she came over because she couldn’t find her can opener and needed help opening her off-brand stewed tomatoes. Who the hell eats that?? I was sitting at the dining room table helping one of the kids with homework, Braless Beth waited in the foyer and Dave was in the kitchen trying desperately to open the can. Dave has many talents but lets be honest, none of them are in the kitchen. He struggles with the microwave, and has no clue how to preheat an oven. Using a can opener is like asking him to perform brain surgery. I watched for a while stifling my giggles, finally he had to turn to me and ask for help. (I win)

     Beth didn’t live next door for long, she confided in me one day that she couldn’t afford the house and that she would be moving soon. She also shared with me that even though she hadn’t been formally diagnosed that she had some psychic gifts and she just knew that she was slowly dying. Her breast implants were leaking silicone all throughout her body and she felt in her heart that she should start getting her affairs in order because the end was near. I felt for Beth and suggested that maybe she should see a doctor??? And buy a good bra…..that could be the problem.

     Standing at that mailbox it dawned on me….I am Braless Beth. OMG Eduardo probably calls me Spandex Sally. Since that day at the mailbox, I spend my time trying to avoid Eduardo. Damn if that boy isn’t outside every time I walk out my door. I pulled up to my apartment the other day and was on the phone with Kelsey, she was trying to get off the phone. I told her she needed to keep talking to me until I was safely inside my apartment. I was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with Eduardo. Seriously Eduardo, don’t you have somewhere that you need to be?

     It has been raining all week here in Florida and that means less time with the purple princess and more time at the mall. Yesterday I saw a fabulous  spandex leopard print jumpsuit in the window of Fredricks of Hollywood. I decided to buy it and wear it next time I blow a fuse or need something fixed. I think it would look great with my fuzzy stilletos .

     I called Dave and let him know that I purchased a flight for him to come to Lauren’s graduation from the Aphasia Center. I told him that I spent the money because I just missed him so much. Lets be real here for a minute….I need someone to carry my luggage.

Clearing My Head.....What a Task!

 Too much Time Alone To Think

     I was always the type of person that would never go to the movies or a restaurant alone. Times when I was alone (rarely) and hungry I would go to a drive thru, park and eat in my car so people wouldn’t think I was a lonely girl with no friends.  Whenever I saw someone alone I always had a whole scenario in my head that I’m sure was right on point. For instance, an elderly man eating alone is surely newly widowed and can’t bear to eat alone in his empty house another night. A good-looking businessman having dinner alone without a wedding ring is obviously alone because he cheated on his wife and she took him to the cleaners, as she should have. Am I the only one crazy enough to think I can read a person just because they are having a meal alone? I realize I’m a little crazy but I still continue this fun little game in my head.

     Today I spent the day alone at the beach. As I was setting up my beach chair (all alone) I couldn’t help but laugh at myself while wondering what all the groups of people thought “my story” was as I was setting up my chair.  My plan was to run on the beach as soon as I got there then read in my beach chair until it was time to go get Lauren. I run with my swimming suit under my running clothes so I can jump in the ocean when I finish running to cool off. I drank too much coffee on the way to the beach and quickly realized running on the beach wouldn’t be the brightest idea for this mom of 7 with a weak bladder. I quickly stripped down to my “mom” tankini and took a quick dip in the ocean to cool off . Okay really I just had to pee. I dried off and put my running clothes back on over my suit. 

     My plan was to run the first mile then walk/run the rest of the way. I made it to .94 before I decided I was done running and that I actually hate everything about running. A little voice inside my head could hear Dave’s voice saying, “Come on Punkin, you can do it, .6 more….Murphys Don’t Quit!” Only my voice was much stronger in my head saying, “Screw you Dave…..I’m not a freaking Murphy, I married into this name and I am stopping at .94. Then I laughed to myself and skipped instead of ran the last .6. Despite the horrendous run, I had a nice quiet peaceful morning and ended up walking 5 more miles. I spent the time alone with my thoughts and was finally able to clear my head after a really rough weekend. Not only did I end up with a clear head, I also ended up with awful chaffing on my thighs. My shorts were wet from putting them on top of a wet suit and ….well basically my thighs are just too fat. Whatever. I have so many other qualities; I never wanted to be a leg model anyway.

     As I was walking I was thinking about life and how much of our lives are about following your dreams and how much are about following your circumstances. When I was a kid my dream was to own a dance studio and be a tap dance teacher. Clearly I missed the ambition gene but a dream is a dream I guess. My dream kind of fizzled and lost steam when my dance classes were on Thursday night. We all know Thursdays are must see TV. I preferred skipping dance class to watch an episode of Cheers. That dream quickly went up in smoke when I quit dance when I was 13. I don’t remember really having many other aspirations. 

     Walking alone on that crowded beach full of families enjoying their vacations I wondered; How many of these people have followed their dreams and how many have followed their circumstances. Is there a difference?  How many will look back to this time in their lives and wish they could freeze time to this exact moment? Watching their children build sandcastles and play in the ocean. Something so simple, yet so completely magical, only they don’t even realize it yet.

     One of my past biggest fears was always that Lauren would have another seizure. Up until last week she had had 5 seizures in a 2-year period. They are super scary and I have witnessed 4 of them.  Last week she had 6 seizures in just 3 days time; 4 of them on Saturday. Looking back I am pretty proud of the way I handled all of her seizures. I remained calm, had her medication at my fingertips, and was able to take charge of her care to get her back to baseline and back on the medications she needs despite what her doctor had wanted to try. Obviously this little experiment was an epic fail and her new medication was not doing the trick.  I’m thinking of getting myself a T- Shirt that says “Seizure Slayer.”

     Being the primary caregiver for someone with a TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is also the most rewarding thing I have ever done. Throughout this journey many obstacles have been thrown my way.  I keep telling myself; “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”  I have dodged so many damn wrenches that I have lost count….. Guess what?….I am becoming one bad ass wrench dodger. 

     I received an email this week confirming Lauren’s admit date for QLI in Omaha. She will move into her new temporary home on 8-24. I am in the process of filling out my Apartment application and it is super scary to again be away from my loving family for a time period that is a minimum of 3 months but could be up to 6  months or even longer.  The epiphany that I had today on my walk on the beach was that last weekend was awful to say the least but it was also just more proof that Murphys are super tough and can handle anything. Well maybe not anything….running is the exception…running is just stupid!!!!

     Back at my beach chair I peacefully settled in with my book and watched all the families. I fondly thought of all of our past vacations building sandcastles, swimming and baking Shannon. Then I giggled as I thought to myself, I wonder if these people have had enough time to figure out my story. Clearly I was alone for a reason, I must be a dance studio owner alone on vacation celebrating another successful dance recital. Nah…I am a weird loner with a weak bladder who has 0 friends and would prefer to read alone in a beach chair than interact with the general public…..If only they knew!!

     Bring on Omaha…We got this!

Sorry, I Don't Have Time For A Therapist .....This Is Cheaper.

     I have always been the type of mom that was great with bee stings and skinned knees. I could make a fabulous paste with baking soda and toothpaste to put on a bee sting and I always had a kitchen cabinet stocked full of Little Mermaid band-aids just in case of an emergency. I remember once after one of Erin’s surgeries, at St. Louis Childrens Hospital, she had shared a room with a kid with chronic issues. When the doctors came in the room for a history, her mother rattled off a long list of medications and side effects as well as past admissions. As the mother was verbally going down the painfully long list of awful things that her daughter had been dealing with,  I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. I was feeling like I was carrying such a big burden watching my toddler in pain when this mother seemed to never catch a break. Dave and I looked at each other as we sat shocked on the other side of the privacy curtain and mentally thanked our lucky stars that we were not “that mother”. Our daughter was only staying because anesthesia made her throw up a gazillion times no matter what anti nausea drugs they gave her.

    Fast forward to present day and today was just plain shitty. Driving home from the Aphasia Center today I looked over and saw the back of Lauren’s head. I immediately knew something was wrong. I could tell she wasn’t just looking out the window, her head was turned too much to the right, it was actually turned so much it was almost facing the head rest behind her. I called her name several times and unsuccessfully tried to nudge her head back towards the center. I was driving at the time so it wasn’t easy. I pulled over in front of a stop sign, I didn’t care if I was blocking traffic, I have a rental car and have no clue where the hazards button is.  Luckily a policeman was at the stop sign going the opposite way. I rolled down the window stuck out my arm and motioned him over. When he pulled up I quickly told him that she was seizing and turned my attention back to her.

    This seizure was different; her beautiful face was still contorted like all the seizures in the past but the convulsions seemed less severe. I looked at the clock as soon as I noticed her head turned, from start to finish it was only about 2 minutes. Of her 6 seizures since the accident this was the shortest. She did foam at the mouth a bit and her lips and area around her mouth turned a bluish color. (I think my heart may have stopped for a bit) That was a symptom that I hadn’t noticed happening before.  I have medicine to give her that I ALWAYS carry with me that will prevent her from having seizures back to back. I asked the policeman if he had any water so I could give her the medicine.  He let me know that they have to wait for medical professionals. I looked down, and luckily Lauren never goes anywhere without her lemon flavored Vitamin Water. (I wasn’t waiting) She was lethargic but responding, she was able to swallow the pill without issue.  I asked her to take out her invisalign, I didn’t want her to choke on them if she had another seizure. She was worried about finding the case before she took them out. At that point I was pretty confident that her cognition was good. The ambulance showed up and I started making calls to her epilepsy specialist’s office. We just weaned her off a medication so I was kind of expecting this. As crappy as it is, it is part of our world now.

     While in the back of the ambulance they were taking her vitals and checking her blood sugar I was rattling off her lengthy history and hospitalizations, medication lists and past medications and past seizures etc.  Then it hit me, Oh my God, I AM “That Mother.”  It is an exclusive club that no one wants to be a part of. No amount of Little Mermaid band-aids or baking soda paste can fix this. This is big time boo boos and many times I would like to run away, but I can’t.  I don’t have to like my set of circumstances but I do have to look for the positive because, as in everything in life, there is always something positive. Sometimes my take away can be the simple fact that I have mastered silent crying. Often times I can be grocery shopping or sitting on a plane or even watching TV and slow tears are rolling down my face. Not a soul even notices, this is something I have perfected in the last two years. But on the flip side, I can still laugh and I laugh a hell of a lot more than I cry. 

      I even laughed tonight. After dinner, (2 hours post seizure) Lauren got up and started cleaning the kitchen. I sent a pic of her loading the dishwasher in a group text to reassure the family that she was back to her old self. When she saw the pic (a while later), we were sitting on the couch watching TV. She said, "Oh My God my ass is huge." then she zipped up the bag of chocolate covered pretzels and put them in the kitchen.

    Everything happened pretty quickly today and I am pretty proud of how I handled everything. Unfortunately I am becoming an expert. This seizure didn’t seem as bad as the others. Maybe it was milder, or maybe I am just getting used to them? The frustrating part for me is getting a specialist to call me back. I understand that they see seizures daily but come on….is it really Okay to tell a mom, “the doctor will call you back tonight or tomorrow morning by the very latest? Seriously?? 

     This isn’t the first time I have had this issue, I even looked at switching doctors once when a different doc was slow at returning calls. My options were finding a less knowledgeable doctor that calls me back or going to a top rated doc that returns calls when he gets a spare minute. Sometimes being the one in charge of medical decisions, medications and doctor appointments is just too much pressure. For now, I wait….and watch her like a hawk. It's 11:00 pm and I'm still waiting for that call. This is a new doctor and I have yet to get out my bear claws, the others have seen the claws and have learned to return my calls quickly. No worries, this one will learn as well. I will spend the night watching Lauren sleep and carefully and meticulously, sharpening my well manicured claws.

     I was walking through Target this week and I had an epiphany...I know you are all dying to hear what brilliant epiphany I came up with? Okay, maybe it wasn't and actual epiphany but more like a thought. I was walking past the little girls department and the clothes were so cute ,I thought  to myself that I wish that I would have had the money to buy whatever caught my eye when my girls were little. I used to get bags of hand me downs from friends and friends of friends and it was awesome but I always wished I could afford more.Then I remembered the lyrics to that Kenny Loggins song that I used to sing all the time back in the day;

And even though we ain't got money,
I'm so in love with you, honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.

     Dave and I laugh looking back, we didn't plan all this chaos. We have heard it all, "You know what causes that?" "Maybe you should get the TV fixed?" Ever think about getting cable?" I am so thankful we didn't figure out what caused that, we didn't fix the TV and we didn't get cable. I may not have been able to afford cute Target outfits for my girls  (luckily both grandmas liked to shop) but somehow we raised some pretty amazing kids.

     Besides, if we had money and would have started a college fund, I guarantee none of these kids would have went to college. It's Murphy's law, didn't I marry a Murphy? One of Dave's favorite things he likes to tell me is, "Ya know Col, you don't have to spend money every single day." I always laugh and say, "Don't be silly honey, of course I do.  I have to make up for the '90's when I was busy spitting out your precious offspring every other year instead of shopping."

      Building a family is tough, I always feel like I am doing it wrong. Did I give my kids enough love, attention, time, things, nutrition, sunscreen (sorry Shannon), the list goes on and on. The short answer is probably no AND yes. Could I have done better? I'm sure I could have; could I have done worse? Most definitely.

     Lucky for me, I didn't know how hard of a job being a parent was going to be. If I would have known then what I know now, I would have most likely spent the 90's on three different forms of birth control as well as abstinence just to be on the safe side. I used to have a plaque hanging in my kitchen that said, "Raising kids is like being pecked by a chicken." That was my favorite quote for a while until I came across the quote, "Raising teenagers is like trying to nail jelly to a tree." I never could bring myself to hang that one on the wall. I was too busy crying!

     I still have two teenagers to go and I'm terrified. So far so good. These two have been through so much. It's hard enough to be a kid these days but throw in a sister with a super sad set of circumstances and a mom who isn't even in the same state and it's sink or swim. I hope and pray that I have given them enough to not only swim but to fly. Lucky for them they have an awesome dad and some pretty terrific siblings who are dealing with the same issues and sadness.

     For the first half of my married life I spent so much time wishing I had more. More designer clothes, a nicer car, a bigger house, a bigger paycheck, etc. Through the years things got better and I actually got all of those things that I longed for. I now have a bigger house, designer clothes, a bigger bank account etc. But the jokes on me....I always had everything I needed. It wasn't about what I didn't have it was always what I DID have.  I was too stupid to see that. I had a husband who adored me and worked his ass off going to school and work so he could give me everything that I always wanted. But the thing is, I already had everything I needed. 

     What I wouldn't give to be living back in that tiny house in Overland with my piles of laundry, dirty dishes, (no dishwasher) dirty diapers, fingerprinted walls and sticky kitchen table. Who would have thought that feeling like I was being pecked by a chicken could be so absolutely wonderful?

     Grief is a funny thing, it never goes away, I mean EVER. When will I feel better? Why can't I ever just be happy? These are questions that I ask myself every day. I am always incredibly thankful for what I  have but at the same time I can't shake this awful grief and sadness that has me in a strangle hold. I just came home from a great family vacation in the Caribbean, what more could I want? To be honest, all I want is for Lauren to have the ability to jump up on stage and sing Karaoke with her sisters or for her to have the ability to fully enjoy vacation and bitch and moan when someone gets on her nerves (like she used to)  like the rest of us did for 7 days.

   Dave and I took Lauren to a restaurant in Puerto Rico because she was starving and just couldn't go to another shop until she ate. The rest of the kids went on ahead sight seeing and Dave and I found a restaurant so she could eat. I was feeling sorry for myself because I wanted to explore Puerto Rico, our cruise ship was only at port for a few hours, we were very limited on time. As we were sitting at the table Lauren looked at us and said, "You two are so supportive,  I really appreciate you both." She gets it, she really does. Those are the "aha" moments that I need, they give me the ability to keep pushing forward. I have to believe that she will continue to get better and keep fighting to get her life back.

     But things are still hard, for instance last weekend we spent 6 hours in a crowded airport. Lauren was tired of sitting in one place and finally grabbed her purse and said, "I'm leaving." We had 4 comfy seats saved together for Dave, Maggie, Lauren and myself. I knew that if we got up and moved we would never find 4 seats together again. I had two choices, get aggravated and treat her like a 2 year old in a crowded airport, or somehow try and find a way for her to understand our dilemma. Dave suggested we move to appease her and I told him to stay in his spot I will take care of it. My first gut reaction was to get her in a less crowded spot and scold her for being difficult. I was tired after a long vacation with a lot of Murphys and a difficult TBI survivor who isn't always able to go with the flow. 
 
    Walking away from my spot I felt my anger and frustration subsiding, maybe it was God reminding me of how I was lucky to be on vacation with my daughter versus visiting her grave. How many mothers that have lost their children would kill to be arguing with their children in a crowded airport? Somehow after a few minutes of walking around the airport and showing her the limited places for a change of scenery she was able to calm down and go back to our original seats to wait out the time until our flight would leave.

     I truly enjoy every minute that I get to spend with Lauren, I am well aware of what a gift her life is. For some reason her life was spared and for that I am so thankful. But what I can't get past is what was lost, I am so sad for her. Is she aware of what she used to be? I really don't even know. I see all of her friends going on with life and I wonder if she will ever really have the ability to truly love life again? Or will I? I often see girls in public places that remind me of Lauren pre-accident. Blonde, beautiful, chic, confident and I want to scream. I will never understand why this happened to my daughter.

     Life goes on and things change, my kids are all growing up and doing great things. I am so happy for all that they are and all that they do. I just wish I didn't always have such a veil of sadness over every positive thing they accomplish, that is not fair to them they deserve a happy mom.

     Dave and I just celebrated our 25th anniversary, who would have thought those two crazy kids would have made it? When I stood on the altar of All Souls Church 25 years ago, I never in a million years  thought about what it meant to love, honor and cherish through sickness and in health for richer or for poorer etc,  I think I was more worried about not tripping on my train and how my hair and make-up looked. Maybe that's what most 20 year old brides think about or maybe I was just a bit more shallow than the average bride?  Regardless, we have been blessed with a happy marriage and share a mutual respect for each other.

    Scratch what I just said...my family just got home and Dave is crabby. Not even sure if I still like him.... Too much family togetherness at a soccer game tonight I guess? Looks like I got the better deal staying home with Lauren watching Miss Congeniality.

     Life isn't always easy but living is beautiful and I will be forever grateful for everything that I still have regardless of what has been lost. I am even thankful for my crab ass husband,  I look forward to the future with him sitting in a lawn chair squirting neighborhood kids with a hose when they step on his grass.
   
   
   

Life is messy deal with it. That is my latest and greatest epiphany in my search for wisdom and understanding.

Five years ago if someone would have asked me to reflect upon my life I would have probably answered, “I am very blessed, I love my family and feel like they are my greatest life accomplishment. Financially we are in a good place and we have been able to put our kids through private schools and we feel very lucky.” Although that statement is completely true there are lots of things missing in that tidy little “perfect” assessment.

For instance, sometimes I would like to choke my family. Raising teenagers is the hardest thing in the world. Every time they leave the house you hope and pray they make good decisions. The reality is that even though they are good kids, chances are they are sitting in someone’s basement playing beer pong every Friday night and on Saturday God only knows what they are doing.  They keep their grades up, act respectful, go to work and school and are pretty good kids. But even pretty good kids do stupid things and have to mature the hard way over years of stupid decisions and mistakes.(just as we did)  As parents our role is to make it as hard as possible for them to get away with such behaviors but to also be there to pick up the pieces when they fall.

I look at moms with little kids and cant help but smile and laugh to myself while remembering those days. I had seven kids under the age of 14 and thought that was really tough. Reflecting back I know that those days were a breeze compared to what was to come. It’s a right of passage, all parents deal with teenagers but seven??? What in the hell was I thinking?

The biggest lesson I have learned is not to sweat the small stuff. Every eye roll every shoulder shrug and every bit of attitude I received from my oldest two kids I took as a personal attack. I mean come on..I do so much for these ungrateful creatures and all I get in return is bad attitude. I don’t deserve this. Why don’t they treat their father this way? And speaking of their father, why can’t he understand how awful they treat me. Instead he says, “Just ignore it.” IS HE KIDDING ME? He is with them 10 minutes every day, easy for him to say.

Now that I am on my last two teenagers I actually laugh when I get eye rolls, bad attitude and even a little back talk. I have learned to laugh and say “Honey, you are awfully sassy today.” Why couldn’t I have learned that technique 15 years ago? I guess my biggest lesson I took away from those awful teenage years is that I will take eye rolls over beer pong any day.

Which brings me to the present, if someone would ask me today to reflect on my life, I would probably say; “I am very blessed, I love my family and feel like they are my greatest life accomplishment. Financially we are in a good place and we have been able to put our kids through private schools and we feel very lucky.”

So you see, as much as life has changed it really hasn’t. Of course there are several layers that have not been revealed in that statement. So much has changed in five years but so much has also stayed the same. Change is constant and there is absolutely nothing that we can do to stop it. But what we can do is focus on all the positives in life and what we are truly thankful for.

I don’t care who you are, you will always have things in your life that make you sad. Sometimes it is harder to find things to make you happy in times of despair but they are there, often times they are in plain sight.

I remember in one of my darkest days when my daughter was fighting for her life, her brain surgeon said to me, “Right now we are dealing with many negatives, I am searching for the positives to give you. They are there, but we are going to have to dig deep to find them,” It was his way of saying how grave things were but that there was still hope. It was the beam of light in my darkest day that I needed and I am forever grateful for his positive attitude.

So here is my infinite wisdom in a nutshell. Life is messy, I don’t care who you are. Spending time looking at others lives and wishing yours was that carefree is a waste of time. You never know what battles they face. You have but one life, no matter how unfair your life circumstances are or who is to blame for your set of circumstances it doesn’t matter. Suck it up, hold your head high and enjoy your messy life because it is brilliant and it is yours and more importantly it is still moving and changing. The best is yet to come.