Monday, December 28, 2015

Leonard Cohen - Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye

It feels like there was so much loss this year.  But when I look back I really only ("only") lost my relationship with Boston and my Nany passed away.

If I had it to do again, if I had known it would be my last conversation with Boston, I probably would've said a lot of mean-spirited and over-dramatic things.  Things he would have hated to hear.  Maybe that's why he doesn't pick up the phone anymore.  He was the first one to point out that I can be incredibly cruel when I'm hurt (flaw #1983).  But I would have said a million soft things too.  About how he saved me by teaching me I could save myself.  About how he showed me the light and the way out of a terrible marriage.  About how grateful I was for him loving my boys.  About how I wanted to always be his friend because there were jokes only HE would get (sexy chipmunk man?) and no one would ever listen to me rant politically the way he did.  About how he was the very first person to say "smart" when he described me to other people.  And how special that made me feel.  About how I would always love him in a way I could never love anyone else.  About how I hear in my head a thousand times a day, in that stupid accent, running commentary on things I read or watch or say, etc.  Just that I would always love him. I would whisper it over and over so he would always know there was someone who did.  I wouldn't do silence as our final goodbye.

If I had it to do again, if I had known it would be the last time I would talk to my Nany, I would ask her approximately 4790 questions.  How do you make Heavenly Hash?  Why is it better than all the fruit salad on the planet?  How did she keep going on, carrying around her love for Eddie in her heart?  How did she keep laughing after all that had been done to her?   Why were Jonna and I in that raft singing "Key Largo" in the living room?  What was the key to surviving all she had been through?  Would I make it?  Did I have her true grit?  Would I ever be the kind of woman and mother and person she was?  How?  I would tell her that my boys carry her twinkle of laughter in their eyes, that it's impossible that it's genetic, but somehow it just is.  I would tell her that I never could have come this far without her.  That her and my Jersey Mama somehow saved me from whatever trauma I went through and pulled me out the other side, not much worse for the wear.  I would tell her I loved her until I couldn't breathe anymore.  We would all get on the phone and chant it like a mantra.  She would scold me for crying and insist we laugh at something.  She would tell me to keep trying to get Joshie Mark on Ellen.  She would tell me just to keep putting one foot in front of another and when all else fails, put on a movie for the kids and take a hot bath, they'll be fine Erica.  She would tell me I was stronger than I knew, she would tell me to take care of Cassie and Jonna and tell them to take care of me. And through it all I would just keep whispering, with my kids, "I love you, Nany".

But we don't get to know when the last time we talk to a person will be.  So, I suppose we should act like each time is the last time and mind our tongues (I'm talking to myself here, Hurt and Mean Eri).

Saturday, December 19, 2015

What I've learned about myself....

Been going to see my therapist Judy for a little while now and I've noticed some things.

1 - I used to think I was always right and didn't care what anyone else thought, I'd plow over them without even thinking twice and get my way.

2 - I have to stop thinking things are going to go how I want it to, not everything works out how you want it to.

3 - When I feel dejected and down, I always put the people around me down so I can feel superior to make up for the let down.

4 - I will no longer take anything or anyone for granted. Because they could be gone in half a heartbeat.

This is just a few things, I am sure there are more but at this time it's all I got.

Things with Kevin and I are going well. I have found I have done a few of these things to him and will catch myself seconds afterwards. He is very understanding because he did research online about bi-polar for me, A.D.D. for Eric and Autism for Sebastian. Hopefully it will help him understand what happens on a daily basis. I am shocked he didn't run for the hills after realizing he's got 3 different mental disorders with my family.

We seem to be growing closer every time we are together, I'm working on trust with him.. scares the shit out of me though.


Saturday, December 5, 2015

You may not want to read this.

My personal note to the Government of the United States....

To start this off, I no longer believe main stream media... I exclusively go to this website:

First off Obama is so out of touch with the world.... he's in denial and really needs to have some sense shaken back into him.

Dear Government,

Now that people are being killed everyday, it is no longer a shock to me... I do still shake my head and say "what is wrong with people". I can only hope and pray you are not over exaggeration these tragedies.

Call me a conspiracy theorists if you want, but if you are trying to desensitize us to these horrible and terrible acts as we have been to the nudity and sexuality on TV you are sorely mistaken. I don't own a gun, but if you take them away the criminals will still find a way to get one.

With that being said there is nothing you can do to stop criminals from getting them and the rest of us will be in more danger. It's like prohibition, people still got alcohol.. enough said.


A mother of a special needs child who wants a better world for him, not one run by people who treat us like a lesser human being.

P.S. I know what you are trying to do to this country and the world I can only pray I have died of old ages of natural causes, not by you poisoning my food or killing me because you think I know too much before this all happens and sucks the happiness out of everything in this world.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

"We're all we've got on this bouncing ball"*

There are a lot of things the political/news junkie in me would like to say about the shooting in San Bernardino.  But today is not the time for that.  Today is the time for us to heal as a nation.  To embrace California, the way we've embraced Fort Hood, Colorado, New York, Paris, The Pentagon, those amazing people and their families from Flight 93, and a dozen other locations and hundreds of thousands of other people over the last 20 years. Today's the time to smile at your husband and laugh with your kids.  To hug and kiss and cuddle.  To think about the things that makes your family uniquely special and to honor and cherish that.  To grieve for a nation that has come to this.  That has fucking come to this.  

Look, it's no secret that I've got the rage of a thousand furies and most people would tell you that my first instinct in every situation is "fight", not flight.  But the other side of that is that somehow I do compassion really freaking well.  And right now, we have a nation in mourning.  I believe, if my old lady  memory serves that this is the deadliest shooting since the 12 dead at the Dark Knight shooting and the 13 dead at Fort Hood.  Whoever is responsible, whatever their motivation, whatever the answers are, let's leave that for another day.  I believe strongly in that (paraphrased here) quote about not hardening our children to go into a hard world, but softening our children to bring love into a hard world.

Last night, the house was thick with anxiety because I just can't walk away from the news, no matter how badly my anxiety (and my counselor) says I should.  My oldest son, who understands anxiety in a way no child should have to, brought me a mug of chamomile tea in my Edgar Allen Poe mug.  "To soothe my savage soul", I said as I pulled the child who is taller than me into my lap for a long snuggle.  He nodded, solemnly, my so serious at times, and yet so silly at other times, compassionate, protective Mama's boy.  "Why are you special?", I asked him, as I've done hundreds, if not thousands, of times.  "Because I'm the kid who made you a mom", he said, a smile brightening his serious face.

Today, I woke up early, troubled by nightmares and the news and just generally restless.  It's not an unusual place for me to be.  When Joshua got up, he ran out to snuggle me first thing and asked me, "Mama, J-O-Y, what does that spell?".  They're learning reading and word sounds in pre-school and he's obsessed with his spelling, not unlike his mother at that age.  I tried to figure out where he might've seen that specific word, however, as it is not a common word.  I looked around at the Christmas decorations and didn't see it anywhere.  I told him what it spelled and what it meant and he repeated it a few times, committing it to memory before trotting off to wake his brother.  

Later, on, I picked up my baby, my freaking 4-year-old-where-does-the-time-go-baby, from Headstart where he shines like the star he is.  Where he is a miracle in the lives there, just like he is a miracle in the lives here.  He ran to me and jumped into my arms almost breaking my old lady hips.  He proudly exclaimed, "Mama!" and then immediately laid his head on my shoulder and sucked his thumb.  This has been his gesture since he was a baby that he is truly comfortable with someone, a sign from my baby that he fully trusts and loves someone and is happy to see them.  He chattered all the way home and when we got home, David forgot and opened he door to our building before my Joshua Mark could.  There was a bit of a scuffle as we all walked back outside so Joshua could be a proper gentleman.  It is one of his favorite duties in his life's mission to be chivalrous and proper.  Then, as we climbed the stairs to the mf'ing 3rd floor  he ran ahead a few stairs and turned to wait for me and when I got to the right level, he leaned against me, hugging me and again grabbing and sucking his thumb, letting me know, without words, "Hey Mama, I love you, all is right in our world for the moment".

So I guess I told you these stories because I want to make sure they're captured.  I want to make sure to honor my over-protective 11 year old who brings tea to me before the tears come.  Who has grown so responsible and mature in the last year.  Who has been compassionate since he was 2 or 3 years old, and oh, please God don't let him ever lose that.  I guess I want to honor Joshua Mark who is a billion questions and sometimes I just want to snap because who has answers to all these questions and I'm just a mom trying to do my best y'know?  But then he asks a question like "J-O-Y, what does that spell?"  And who can snap at that?  I guess I want to give you, yes you, something to smile at if, God forbid, you don't have something to smile for.  I guess I want to encourage you to share your own smile-through-the-tears-moments in the comments.  And I guess, for today, I don't want to think about the world outside my own.

*Today's blog title comes from the family song, The Riddle.  Of course.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

We all live with the scars we choose

I've been a Sugarland fan *forever*.  Nathan, too.  This song's from one of their later cds and it's always really hit home for me, being the quirktastic, largely unloveable geek I am.  "If you want it, come and get it, but you take me as I am."  I'm not going to change.  No more, never again, not for anybody.  And I want to make sure that I impart to my kids that they never have to either.  Rock out with your quirk out, y'all.

So yes, I love too much, but I'm clingy. I'm passionate, but overdramatic.  I'm empathetic, but scarred.  I laugh too loud, but I cry too loud too.    I'm optimistic, but I live in the shadows of my own torment. I have a close relationship with Christ, but I'm troubled by today's religion.  I'm loyal, but I dig my heels in on everything else too.  I'm quick to love, but quick to anger too.  I'll put up with almost anything you can throw at me, but when I'm hurt I'm mean with a vicious sharp tongue.  I am a whole person, truths, great qualities and flaws just the same.  I know exactly who I am.  And I'm learning, maybe too slowly for some people's tastes, to be okay with it.

"I'm slow to trust but I'm quick to love, I push too hard and I give too much.  I ain't sayin' I'm perfect, but I promise I'm worth it.  Now I'm standing here in front of you, tell me boy, what're you gonna do?"