One of those days...

Have you ever just had one of those days?? One that you just can't put your finger on?? Something has you down, and you can't quite figure out what?? I'm having one of those days...

My day hasn't been bad, but hasn't been the greatest either. Nothing's really happened. I mean to justify my feeling for the day anyway. It's just I don't feel up to par. I'm SO emotional and don't know why. *sigh* I figured if I could find a reason for my emotional state, it would at least make it rational, but as much as I've dug today, there's just no reason.

Maybe it's the countless days, and months of being the rock. Maybe it's the countless times I've been the shoulder. I've been the heart and soul to rely on. I've been that ear. Maybe I've built my self up so long putting on that shell, that I've come to realize I'm not that person. I can't be that person. Sure, I can be a rock for my family, and I can be that friend, but sometimes maybe I need that too. Don't get me wrong, I don't wanna dwell on myself. I don't want self pity, and quite frankly, I don't like the focus being on me and my problems. So then why do I care??

I'm just broken emotionally. I have so many emotions, and so many pieces scattered, that I'm afraid to really try to pick it all up. If I put it all back together I'm afraid I'll see the real truth in it. Afraid I'll have to face the real problems and I don't think I'm ready for that.

See, I've braved the face of a motherless child. I've braved the face of a special needs mother. As many other faces I've put on, I think those hit me worse.

My mother and I had a close relationship many moons ago. Alcohol came between us when my aunt passed. She turned to drinkin and I turned to the world. I lashed out many times in hopes of attention. But I never got that. I left home just to return several times. I never once resorted to drugs, but I did for some time resort to alcohol. I couldn't understand what about it had her intrigued. How she could love a 6 pack more then me?? You'd have thought that would have turned me from it right? But it didn't. I became a friend of boys in spite of myself. In turn, I had a child out of wedlock. I could make a million excuses for my actions, including that I was looking for someone to love me, but it wouldn't change the facts. I got pregnant, and became a bigger dissapointment to my mom. I was called every name in the book. I was confronted with abortion. *gasp* this still is my mother right?? The born again christian that once bathed in jesus name?? I was lost and scared, and shunned by my mother. I was broken. Time went on, and 9 mo. later a child named Daniel brought us both together again. Nothing really hits a heart like a grandmother holding her first grandchild. But all of that would soon change.

Two weeks into this journey Daniel started twitchin. When I say twitching I mean more or less "knocking" with his right hand. Something just didn't seem right. I made mention to my mom when she got off work, and we both concluded it'd be best to take him to the after hours clinic so away we went. I prayed on the way over there that he would continue these spasm's so the Dr. could witness this. I know that sounds horrible. Forgive me, I'm not a horrible mother, and would never bestow on my worst enemy what was to come. When we arrived at the after hours clinic he was still having these spasm's. We were immediately seen, and immediately rushed to the E.R. There a spinal tap was taken and he was diagnosed with Right focal infantile seizures, and viral spinal meningitis. Thus began our long journey in and out of the ICU. To and from neurologist apt., speech, occupational and physical therapists. So on and So forth. At the age of 2 he was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. We were told he would never walk or talk, in which began the talk of heel snips and hip surgery. It's been a long hard road. Were still not free of seizures. Though they've taken their own course over the years. But we deal. We may never be seizure free, and that's fine too. I love him just the same.

Taking on a life at 17 was hard to swallow. Then to learn he was a child with special needs was a blow, but I gripped life with both hands. I quickly turned the road of faith. I clung to God with all I had. I praised him for thinking enough of me to have blessed me with a special needs child. After all, If he brought me to it, He'd bring me through it, right??

Seriously, you know what an honor it is to be the mother of a special needs child?? To have been given the gift of love from a child that gives whole heartedly. To see no wrong in this world. To know no hate, or jealousy, or greed, or any other wordly fault. He's taught me SO much more in 11 years then I could have ever hoped to have learned in almost 29. After all he's been through he still finds reason to smile no matter how the rest of the world perceives him. He's overcome his dissability and finds ability in everything.

I am SO blessed.

But in saying that, sometime's theres hard days. Days when I don't feel strong enough to face the world with a disabled child. Time's when I don't feel I have enough to give to him. When I'm questioned by others, or teachers, or Dr.'s in my position on something. Seriously, I should have to explain myself?? Time's that I feel maybe I've failed him. Because I turned down the surgery because they couldn't guarantee it would make a difference. Time's I opted against putting and leaving him in a wheelchair cause I thought it'd be best for him to use his muscles. Time's I reduced his doses of medicine because he wasn't Daniel. I've done the best that I know with what I've been given. Maybe sometimes my best isn't good enough for some people but at 17, at least I chose life. At least I gave myself whole heartedly to that special boy. I embraced this life, and have never looked back. That's more then some can say.

And for this, I believe I'm a better person.

To my mom though I wasn't. She always held Daniel against me. She tried several times to take him away for the sake of a friend. Not even for herself, for a friend. She's given me the lowest of blows, and still my heart aches for her. I long to have that relationship we once had. I fear though that we'll never get it back. I've tried to apologize for my actions in the past. I've tried to extend my hand in hopes of reconciliation. I've made the calls to her everytime. She's never once called me. Never once wished my kids a happy birthday. Not once even made the attempt to remember a certain detail about them. But yet I try. Why?? Because I don't want to be a motherless child anymore. I need my mother. I feel like a part of me is missing. I've already lost my father, I don't want to lose her. I have this longing in life to have her near. I want my kids to know their grandmother. I want her to want to know about them. I want her to know how much she means to me, but I can't open my heart to her in fear of getting hurt. That's why I lashed out years ago. I needed to be on the defense. But when it comes down to it, she's the reason I'm who I am today. I wouldn't be me if it hadn't been her.

Looking in the mirror she's who I see. She's with me everywhere I go. I'm strong now because I once observed and admired her strength. I love my faith because once she cared enough to implant that seed in me to grow in Jesus name. She chose life for me when my father yelled death. She struggled working 2 jobs giving of herself endlessly to raise two kids on her own. That's why I am the mother I am. But I also will not break.

I love you mom. I thank you from the deepest spot in my heart for everything, good or bad. I am who I am because of you and that's all I could ever hope to be!!

Not me!! Monday...

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I DID NOT take my 4 mo. old daughter into the bathroom last night to nurse her because she was hungry and well, I had to potty!! That is SO un-sanitary, and just plain YUCK!!

I DID NOT put Ryan's shoes on the wrong feet while he's telling me they're on the wrong feet and then several minutes later when I realize this proceed to ask him why he didn't tell me this. I would NEVER have done that. Parents always listen to their children!!

I DID NOT squeeze Paisley into the last 2 size 1 diapers before putting her in size 2's because I couldn't see wasting 2 measly diapers! On the same hand I DID NOT put Madison into a size 6 and after comming to this conclusion, leave her in it and exclaim that a 6 fits just like a 3 that I couldn't tell the difference. *shaking head*

Last but not least, I DID NOT allow Cody to continue drawing on the wall with a sharpie marker because I was on the phone with the state and couldn't bear yelling "Quit drawing on the wall with a marker" while talking to them. In doing that, I wouldn't have not care because were painting their room this weekend anyway. Nah!! Not Me!!

My Babies...

I want to introduce you to my babies. First, Is Daniel. He is 11. He was born on good friday. He was my first test of faith. He originally was going to be named Bradley, but my mom suggested Daniel and I happily agreed. At 2 weeks old he was diagnosed with right focal infantile seizures. At 3 mo. old and MRI confirmed brain damage. At 2 y.o he was given the diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy. He can't walk, or talk. I may never hear the words " I love you" come out of his mouth, but I've heard them a thousand times through his countless smiles and slobbery kisses. He truely is my hero. He's overcome his dissability, and finds ability in everything he does.

It switched the next 2 around, so we'll go in it's order *giggle*

Next posted is Brayden. He's my 3rd son. He's 4. He was also born on Good Friday. March 25th. Brayden is the "big brother". He helps out alot around the house. He's my right hand. Literally. He's eager to please, and has quite an imagination. He loves motorcycles, and wal*mart. *shrug* He's wise beyond his years in vocabulary and can out talk even me. Now that's saying alot.

Then there's Ryan. Who is 5. He's the 2nd boy born. Ryan was born 5 weeks early, and after a week long NICU stay was welcomed home with open arms, healthy. Ryan loves big trucks and bugs. Ecspecially moths. *shaking head* He's the epitome of boyism. haha. He hates water being poured on his head but happily runs through the sprinklers. He loves lightning mcqueen and all things involved.

Then there's Cody. He is 3 and a bit fiesty. Not one for patience. He voices himself often with screams. He has long eyelashes, and a heart melting smile. He follows his big brothers everywhere. He is their shadow. He loves "mowing the lawn" and sitting on mama. He adores his sisters, unfortunately they doesn't always adore him.

Next is Madison. She'll be 20 mo. She has beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair. She loves her babies, and carries them around everywhere. She loves to put them to sleep and give them hugs and kisses. She adores Brayden and Paisley second to her boots I believe. She's a princess, and has to have her way. She doesn't like the word "no" and will quite often end up on the floor after hearing it.

Last but not least, Is Paisley. She'll be 4 mo. the 18th. She is the completion to our family, and we couldn't have asked for more. She's a boobie monster. She loves watching her brothers and sisters and is adored by them all. She loves being talked to and can laugh for hours. I love her to pieces, and am trying to embrace each moment as she is the last. *sniff*

We truely have been blessed beyond words. We couldn't have asked for more then what we've been given in these 6 beautiful and wonderful children. Time sure has flown, and I'm learning to treasure every moment.

Thank you Lord so much for blessing me with these babies. For thinking enough about me that you should grace me with your children. Please guide me as a mother. Help me to hear your voice and follow your path. Help me to honor you in this journey.

Religion-Decision

Because saying I'm a Christian is so general, I want to characterize it. I'm not claimed by religion. I was raised non-denominational. If I leaned towards anything, I'd have to say it was baptist. I was raised in private schools, in a faith based church going family. My mom divorced my dad because she found God, and he never did. My aunt was a missionary. I didn't enter public schools until I was in middle school. We attended church religiously every Wed. and Sunday. Every summer my brother and I readily and happily enjoyed christian camp. I learned how to recite the books of the bible in order in Awana. I was the epitome of Christianity. But what does that really mean?? I never cussed, I didn't scrutinize people, I attended church, I tithed, I knew the books of the bible, and could quote chapter and verse. I was proud to say I was a christian. All my friends were christians. I proudly wore a cross around my neck, and talked of God to friends as if he were a close friend. I knew God, and never wavered on my path.

But see, that was the problem. I was born in to this life. I didn't have to find it on my own. I knew God, but never had a close personal relationship with him. The chapters and verses in the bible were spoke from thought, not my heart. I was sheltered. I later learned how weak my faith was when it was tested. See, I never really KNEW God, I just knew of him. Two totally different things.

I am a C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N

I'm a Christian! Whatever that means. I know for some people that's easy to say, but that's something I've always struggled with. The whole act of saying it hasn't always been hard, but it's not always come easy. I've had those troubles of caring what others thought. Not only if I confessed I was a Christian, but also if I were to "act" like a Christian. I'm not saying "act" as in terms of a play or rehearsal, but more in the means of, I smoke, I've had my share of faults (more, I'll touch on later) I've spat my share of cuss words, and I had a child out of wedlock. *Gasp* That's the brutal truth.

See, I've been afraid of judgement. Afraid of what others might think, so I've chose not to disclose those 3 words. "I'm a Christian".Christians were sure to judge me. Now, I understand it's human nature to judge. It's an evil character in us al l. But I know in my heart of hearts as a human being, I also have feelings. I hurt, I cry, and am like so many others in that aspect. Unfortunately, we don't always stop to think about others. About what they might think or feel. Sometimes we don't care, but I do and that's what has made it so hard. But from here on out, I'm gonna build the strength, find the will, and embrace those words.

What am I doing here??

I'm lost, and a bit scared. I know where I need to be, It's the getting there that's a bit trembling. I named my blog "trying to find my feet", cause that's what I'm trying to do. I think I've lived so long for everyone else that I've truely lost sight of who I am. I've lost sight of what is most important in life. I've cared too much about what others thought. Now it's time to be brutally honest. With myself, and with others. *No Backspacing* You might not always like, or agree with what I have to say, but this is me. It's my way of being able to find my feet. Through my thoughts, my words, my blog. So, here goes....