Cheerio Confessions

Well, Christmas has officially come and gone. There are now...what, 364 days to Christmas 2010. Or something like that. Thank God! No offense to Jesus or Mary or anything but I'm telling you what...every year the Holidays get more difficult to survive.

I had everything planned out this year. I was going to start preparing just after Halloween so that I wasn't running around like a chicken with my head cut off come Christmas Eve. It didn't work. I didn't get any of the gifts made that I wanted to. I didn't get the kids all figured out etc so I could help them create their gifts for everyone. My Mom was the only one who's gift was completely finished in time to give to her. And I was running around up until 30 seconds before she came in the door to get that wrapped etc.

But it's not just the prep work. Or the decorating, which I can't even manage to find a way to get done anymore. It's all of it. It all seems so complicated. Now don't get me wrong here, I'm not a Scrooge by any means. I just noticed this is all.

Take toys for example. You have the gifts that Gavin and Elliott Richard received, which were taped in and twist-tied in. Am I the only one who thinks this is complete and total overkill? But I digress...their gifts are protected with the strength that I thought only Fort Knox could offer. Then you have Mr. Emmett John's gifts. Most of his gifts were what I affectionately call "Old School" toys. He received the pull behind telephone, the shape block sorter and the little "bed bug bopper". None of those were taped or twist-tied. You opened the box and pulled them out. End of story.

Heck even if you compare video games! When I was a kid, the Nintendo was the "in thing". Everyone either had one, knew someone who did and/or wanted one so badly they could almost taste it. True, by today's standards the graphics are horrid. However, the controls were easy and straight forward. Up was up. Down was down. You get the idea. Nothing was overly complicated. Now there are 3 different major systems with beautiful graphics in their own right. Each specializes in a different type of game genre. And each seems to have their own unique way of making the controls complicated.

Sorry to be all doom and gloom, I'm just over-whelmed from all the running and buying and wrapping and the going and visiting and whatnot. I still think it holds true though - things have gotten far to complicated over the years. At times, I really do feel that it's almost complicated simply for the sake of being complicated. But that's just me. =)

Aside from taped and twist-tied to death new toys (more pictures to come tomorrow), the Cheerios are doing well. We are exhausted and well-fed. We had a blast with family. And now we are all attempting to recover. Except the boys seem perfectly content to stay hyper and completely bouncing-off-the-walls. (lol) Our Christmas was beautiful and everything a Christmas should be. And we hope that you and yours had a very Merry Christmas!

Just a quick Christmas 2009 at Home recap in photos...okay, sadly these are the only photos I took with my cell phone. The rest are on my camera and I haven't had the chance to pull them over yet. Thoes will come tomorrow. =)

I just wanted to spend a few minutes with you and tell the world how I feel about you....

We have been together for 9 long years and been married for 6 short ones. I know that "long years" sounds bad but we have been through one trauma after another, year after year. Most couples wouldn't survive half of what you and I have been through together. There is just something about us that defies logic and statistics. We always joke that no one would have ever put us together because we are like oil and water.

I wanted to take this time to tell you in written words (I know how important written words are to you) how much you mean to me. These are my most treasured memories.... So far.

I remember the first time I met you (you know the first time I'm talking about) and I learned about some of what you had been through.

I remember I felt so sorry for you because no one deserves to be treated like that.

I remember after knowing you for only a brief moment, I felt proud of you because I realized you were NOT a victim.

I remember the first time I saw you at the park.

I remember our first kiss was at dusk standing in your Aunt Paula's porch.

I remember our first movie was Space Cowboy's.

I remember the first time we ate together was at M & H.

I remember the first time I met Gavin was at the park because we wanted to date for a little while before I met him.

I remember Gavin spilling his lemonade all over me that day.

I remember the fear I saw in your eyes as that happened because you thought I would be upset and walk away.

I remember us daring each other to say "I love you" because we were both to scared to be the first one to say it.

I remember parking the car in Rosemary's driveway and talking for hours and hours about nothing just to be together.

I remember you nursing me back to health both physically and emotionally after I destroyed my back on a call and decided to end my career as a Fire/Medic.

I remember your Grandma M taking me ( I was terrified of her at the time) to Burger King and telling me it was my turn to take care of you now.

I remember the worst day of your life and the pain in your eyes when you learned she passed away.

I remember that seeing you in so much pain was the first time my heart had ever truly been broken.

I remember asking you to marry me as we were walking to my car after I picked you up from school that sunny afternoon (if anyone is wondering she said yes).

I remember you being there for me on the worst day of my life, when I Grandma B passed away.

I remember our wedding day in North Cheerioville and dinner at Papa Bears after because we didn't want nor could we afford anything fancy and just wanted to be married.

I remember our honey moon at the cabin and you wearing your hooded jacket (looking like Kenny from South Park) in 90 F weather because you were hiding from the bugs.

I remember cutting it short and spending the next few days in the hospital because we both caught some freak virus.

I remember the day we found out you were pregnant with Elliott Richard and all the water you had to drink because I made you take like 6 tests just to be sure.

I remember the first time I heard his heart beat and yours together at the same time, amazing.

I remember witnessing Elliott Richard's birth and being so full of emotion and truly feeling what love was for the first time.

I remember standing there and looking at you in amazement because you created this perfect, tiny little child.

I remember a few minutes later begging God to take my life and spare our sweet Elliott Richard after he was born premature, both his lungs ruptured and we almost lost him.

I remember that was the longest 14 days of my life.

I remember we both felt so helpless not being able to touch him and seeing him in so much pain every day.

I remember being so afraid to leave to get food or sleep because we didn't want him to be alone if God was going to take him.

I remember that even though you had spent 6 months on bed rest and weeks in labor you were my rock and I was a complete mess.

I remember the first time you held him in the NICU, you looked so beautiful and at peace for the first time in a long while.

I remember learning you were pregnant with Emmett John and how excited we were.

I remember how much you taught me about courage and selflessness during the 8 months of bed rest leading the birth of our youngest miracle.

I remember having to be told over and over again how perfect he was when he was born because we were so scared something was going to happen.

I remember watching you hold Emmet John for the first time while I stood in awe of what you had just accomplished.

I remember the day we went to court and I finally after 8 years got to adopt Gavin.

I remember all the joy and pain that comes along with raising Gavin together.

I remember how fiercely you protected him and always do.

Now there are some things I would like you to remember.

Please remember the first time I saw you I knew you were the one. My soul mate. My penguin...

Please remember that you the strongest most beautiful woman I have ever met and I am truly honored to be your husband.

Please remember that I am completely and hopelessly in love with you.

Please remember that not a day goes by that I don't know how lucky I am to have you in my life.

Please remember that I am eternally grateful for ALL that you do for us even though you don't think it's enough.

Please remember that you are the glue that holds this family together.

Please remember that I will always, always be here for you...

Please remember that I would do ANYTHING to take your pain away.

Please remember that I am so sorry that I can't.

Please remember that I will forever be grateful that you read my email.

Please remember that I am also grateful you didn't listen to your cousin when she warned you about me saying I was a "Mac Daddy". Yes I am talking about you Sam :)


It seems like only yesterday and at the same time it feels like forever ago that we said I do. Does that even make sense? It's like time revolves around us.
Actually, time is meaningless for us because soul mates were created to be together no matter how long it takes to find each other, so time is irrelevant. I believe soul mates are like a circle with no beginning and no end. I know you are my soul mate.

I can't remember or imagine us not being together. That being said..... I have a question I have been meaning to ask you....


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Your almost there.....











Ok here goes nothing......























Lizze I have loved you from the first day we met. Every day I find myself looking forward to spending the next day with you. You are the most amazing mother and the best wife I could have ever hoped for. You are truly so much more then I deserve...





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(Rob is getting really nervous)


















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(Rob takes a deep breath and gets down on one knee)










Elizabeth Ann Cheerio (name has been changed to protect the Cheerio family),

Will you do me the honor of marrying me......... again?

This time I want to take our time and do it right. I want to pick a church we are both comfortable and happy with. I want to be married in front of God and our family including those we have gained since the first time :)

I want us to have a new start. I want this to be when we finally put everything behind us and move forward together as a family. What do you say?


I will anxiously await your answer......


Your Loving Husband,

Rob

Everyday in the Cheerio household brings about a new sort of "normal". I use that term loosely of course. Our lives are in a constant state of flux. Mostly because of Gavin, not that I'm saying everything is his fault because it isn't. It's just that a majority of the time our lives revolve around Gavin and his needs. Some days the flux is caused because of me and my needs. However, mostly, our lives revolve around Gavin. His moods. His needs. His whims. His fits of anger. His fits, period. His appointments. Him, in general.

I feel like as soon as we get one thing under control here. One thing stablized. Everything else hits a huge wave and smashes into a million pieces. Then we are left clinging to that one thing we managed to stablize while we scramble to gather the other million pieces and try to put them back together. Only it feels as if we are trying to put them back together, in the dark, without glue, without directions and honestly, without any real idea of what they were in the first place. All the while that one stablized thing, whatever it was, is slipping away so slowly that we don't notice until it's gone.

Since I finished the Twilight Series I have been blog surfing something fierce, which is not a good thing. Except for the fact that my fibromyalgia is so bad at the moment that I'm basically on bed rest again so I have plenty of time to read blogs. But I digress. (You're shocked, I know. lol) As I've been blog surfing today I found what is apparently a rather popular blog entitled, Jenna's Journey Blog. Every Wednesday, as her infant son Brayden allows, she does a meme that she calls "I Don't Wednesday". It's kind of like MckMama's "Not Me Monday" only you list the things that you don't do rather than the things you did but wish you hadn't. Since I'm in such a blogging mood lately but I'm struggling with the blogs I really want to write, I figured, "Hey, it's Wednesday. It's my blog. So, why not." :)

And away we go! :)

I don't... fold, sort and put my laundry away as soon as I take it out of the dryer. (Rob wishes I would though. lol)

I don't... wear dresses or skirts. (Again, Rob wishes I would though.)

I don't... drink milk. (Ick.)

I don't... tolerate ignorance well. (Or much at all, if we're being completely honest about it.)

I don't... want to hear anymore about Obama, his "health plan", the people it will "help" (never mind those it's screwing), his popularity rating, his Presidency thus far or any combination thereof. (I'm Obama'ed OUT! Seriously. No more! UNCLE!)

Like most households in America we have an entertainment center/TV stand. Also like a lot of households in America we have an infant/to-be-toddler. So while our entertainment center/TV stand is sturdy enough to hold the television is wasn't built to withstand the force of "The Tank". Now our television is on a dinning room table in an attempt to protect Mr. Emmett John during his adventures. So I suppose it was only a matter of time before our makeshift TV stand became Emmett John's Hide-Away. (lol)

"Look calm, cool and collected. Remain cool while you check out the new "digs". Do not act interested. But let's face it, beggers can't be choosers here. In a 3 bedroom house with 2 adults, 3 kids, 1 medium-large dog and 1 cat "private quiet space" is a luxury few of us find anymore."

"Be sure to stash some snacks. (We won't ask where or how.) All the great Hide-Aways have snacks!"

" Abort! Abort! Abort!

I finally finished that post I've been working on for 5 days now so I figured I would started catching up with some pictures. :) Enjoy! :)

So Rob, Trisha and I were hanging out tonight just watching television and doing a whole lot of nothing special. When Trisha starts to laugh. Rob and I look up to find this:




Okay so this picture is kind of blurry but Emmett John moves quick! (lol) He worked his way around the living room. Gathering the toys he wanted. Leaving those he didn't want behind. One-by-one he would crawl over to it. Pick it up. Crawl back to the swing. Place it in the seat. And then go back for the next treasure. Over and over until all of the treasures he wanted were in his seat.

You know, kind of like "The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe" only not. In my story there isn't any fun or adventure. No one makes any new friends. Or triumphs over evil.

In my story, the dryer puts out heat but doesn't tumble. The washer washes. The dryer doesn't dry. And we are running out of clothes. We don't have the money for the laundromat. My sister has graciously offered the use of her dryer, as has Grandma G but that's only going to work for so long. I'm mechanically challenged, meaning I can't fixing things to save my own life so I can't fix it. Rob's thrown his back out and is going to try and fix it but I don't know how that's going to work.

Mr. Emmett John has an appointment with Dr. H tomorrow morning at 10:15am to get his ear infection rechecked. I've been giving him his Augmentin twice a day, on a full stomach just like Dr. M said. For the first few days he was getting better. His mood was improving. He was sleeping better. He was our happy, independent little guy again. Then some where around Saturday morning (happy birthday to me, right?) he started pulling, smacked and poking at his right ear again. His mood took another nose dive and he became really clingy again. Now I could be wrong here, and I honestly hope that I am, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the ear infection had started to clear up and is now back. :( I really hope that I'm wrong. But I honestly won't be at all surprised if I'm right.

Then there are "The Terrorists". I have 3 of them now. Yes, you read that correctly, Mr. Emmett John has joined the ranks of the Terrorists. It's a sad day in the Cheerio Household. I'm not out-numbered 3-to-1. And they are taking full advantage of it! True, they can't, and don't, work together (what terrorists do though?) but that doesn't make them any less terrifying. Or any less of a handful. Or any...less...exhausting.

In fact, it almost makes them worse because at any given moment I've got Elliott Richard over here jumping on the couch, which he knows he shouldn't be. Then I've got Gavin over there throwing toys, again something that he knows he shouldn't be doing. And finally I've got the trifecta with #3, Mr. Emmett John off in the corner trying desperately to pull his diaper off for God only knows what reason a 1 year has for wanting his diaper off. No is listening because they all claim I was talking to "that one over there". I'm pulling my hair out by the roots, or at least seriously considering it. The Terrorists are all grinning from ear-to-ear and couldn't possiblly be any happier. And so it goes. Afterall, who am I, a mere mortal of a mother, to deny them these silly, crazy life experiences?

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.

Let's see what I haven't done this week...

I did not put Mr. Emmett John on the floor a little while ago to play because that seems to be the only thing to entertain/calm/stop the screaming lately. I did not do this because I need to sweep the floor (although it's not that bad but still) and an unswept floor is a cesspool for germs.

I did not send Gavin to school in "high water" pants this morning because all of his pants are "high waters" since he miraculously grew like 3 inches over night! That would make him look like a hill-billy and me a hill-billy mama by association.

I did not spend my weekend playing Cake Mania rather than doing productive things like working on the Cheerio State Pen, dishes, or laundry. That would be irresponsible and very un-motherly of me.

I am not spending today playing Little Big Planet for Elliott Richard because he is sick and this is the only way I can get him to sit still and rest.

I did not just throw the PS3 controller to the side and dash to Emmett John's side because he fell while exploring my unswept living room. He's the youngest of three and obviously by now I've learned that children will stumble and fall and get bumps and bruises.

they are a blowing.

Here's in the Cheerio Household that is. (Okay, totally not our real last name but for the sake of some resemblance of privacy and safety work with me here.) Last Monday Rob and I saw Dr. R, Gavin's psychatrist and he feels that Gavin does not have signs of Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD), which was an idea Rob and I had been kicking around with Patty. He feels that it is much more likely a Conduct Disorder. Now some of you may read the definition of Conduct Disorder, shake your heads and say, "Nope, don't see it." I'm here to tell you that there is so much that most never see. So trust me when I tell you that Conduct Disorder fits. (It's another post entirely for me to explain all the reasons why and I'll try to get to that post ASAP.)

Dr. R said that there is a therapy here in our hometown that is supposed to do wonders with kids with Conduct Disorders. It's called MST. He also stated that children with Conduct Disorders do well in a strictly structured, prison-like environment. Now our lives are structured already. However, if "prison-like" structure is what we need to keep our family afloat then "prison-like" is what we shall have. I'm in the process of putting a plan into action that will create this ultra-structured environment for my family.

I don't do well with structure as a whole. My brain just doesn't seem to work that way. Whenever I attempt to force it to, it just doesn't work out well. However, it is my hope that if it is my plan and implemented by me then I will be okay with it. Believe me when I say this isn't a simple plan by any stretch of the imagination. I'll have to lay it all out for y'all sometime but right now I hear laundry and dishes calling my name.

So the winds of change, they are a blowing. Hopefully they blow us someplace nicer than where we currently are.

Let's make this short and sweet. Rob's baby sister Jenn moved in across the street tonight. Granted living with Fibro tends to limit my helpfulness when it comes to moving. I can't lift much. Can't really carry much either. Climbing stairs repeatedly, nope. So I hung the shower curtain and put her towels away. Hung out a bit. Even though I didn't do much, I am so beyond exhausted.

I had planned, well, more like hoped that I was going to write a post about how we had planned for things to go. Then how things had really gone. How I don't miss moving. I don't miss packing or sorting or unpacking. I don't miss having to feed those who are kind enough to help you move. Likewise, I don't like having to prented to know where I want everything or even that I have any of the answers because most likely, I don't. And as much as I wouldn't mind being 18 years old again, especially if I could be 18 knowing what I know now, I don't think I want to go through all that again.

Bright side: Jenn is all moved in.

Dark side: I'm in gobs of pain. And so overwhelmed and exhausted that I'm twitching.

Elliott Richard and Maggie in Elliott's new room in the beginning phases. You can still see the remnants of what was the "Nursery" that was set up for Elliott Richard but he never got the opportunity to use.

Elliott Richard in his new room - before.

Elliott Richard's New Room!

Our little boy is growing up so fast.

Ok, so yet again I've been MIA. I'm trying to get into a groove to correct that. I swear. There has just been far too much drama going on for my tastes lately. But that's not why I'm blogging. I've come to share some adorable kid stories with you.


As of April 1st my big sister (long story that I'll share later) Trisha, her husband John and their 3 kids - Danny (almost 12 yrs.), Dyvin (8 yrs.) and Payton (5 yrs.) will be moving down the street. (If I get the okay to use full first names I will, until then you get these nicknames.) Well, Payton is absolutely head-over-heels in love with my Tiny Doodlebug (honestly who isn't) and was overheard telling Danny and Dyvin how Emmett John could spend the night once they were all moved. Here's how the conversation went:

Payton: Mommy can buy Emmett John his own bed and put it in my room at the new house so he can spend the night.
Danny: Sorry Fudge but Emmett John can't spend the night.
P: Why not?!
D: Well, Emmett John is only 9 months old and Mommy never let any of us spend the night away from home when we were that little.
P: But Mommy talks to Aunt Lizzie all the time! And we live 3 doors down!
D: Emmett John would get hungry.
P: (getting frustrated with Jr's ignorance) Mommy would make him bottles.
D: Emmett John doesn't drink bottles.
P: So we will buy him baby food.
D: Emmett John needs more than baby food, Fudge.
P: What does he eat then?
(Dyvin has been listening all this time.)
Dyvin: What?! Ew! Gross!
P: What D?! What's gross?
D: (sighs)
Dyvin: (disgusted) Fudge, Emmett John eats Aunt Lizzie's boobies!
P: (horrified) What?! I had a bottle. (more of a plea than a statement) Why would Aunt Lizzie do that?!
D: Some mommies feed their babies that way because it's better. Mommy fed me that way.
(enter my sister)
Trisha: Yes, Fudge, you drank a bottle. And so did you D. We don't call them boobies. Aunt Lizzie calls them nummies when she's referring to Emmett John. (She proceeds to explain nursing and whatnot to P and D.)

I just about died when she told me this story. Of course, now with them all living 3 doors down I expect to have many more stories like this one to share. :)

This was my Sunday:

• Woke up with a migraine and a fibro flare? Check.
• Twins still sick and dribbling poop everywhere? Check.
• Tried to nap but in too much pain to lay down? Check.
• More cat poop? Check.
• Massive Emmett John diaper blow out, which equals still more poop? Check.
• Doubled the laundry to be washed thanks to dribbles and blow outs? Check.
• Broke the light switch in the ceiling fan in our bedroom? Check.
• Cut power to the whole house when I was supposed to only cut it to the bedroom? Check.
• Then spent an hour and a half in the living room with lit candles and all three boys while Rob inspected the damage, went to the store, picked up dinner and fixed the switch? Check.
• Fell asleep begging God for a single night of sleep without waking up every hour? Check.

PS. I got the sleep. :)

Okay, so we met with Dr. R yesterday. We have opted at this time to not try another Bi-Polar medication because we want to be sure the dust has settled from the Trileptal reaction. However, he is now thinking that while Gavin's official diagnosis is Asperger's, which is a high functioning form of Autism, Dr. R feels that he is now moving up and down the Autistic Spectrum between varying levels of functionality.

Imagine a bead on a string. The end of the string in your right hand is high functioning Asperger's. The end of the string in your left hand is the lower functioning Autism. Typically, a child with Autism/Asperger's will have knots on either side of their bead holding it in place. This does not seem to be the case for Gavin. He seems to move freely between varying levels of functionality. So for the moment we are going to keep him on his current medications and try and just keep him grounded as much as possible. Dr. R wants us to try and interact with him as much as possible, even if all we are doing is playing next to him without any real interaction at all. Hopefully, that will entice him out of his head and back to the higher functioning land of Aspergers.

Overall, Gavin has been doing pretty well lately. We are still having our moments of attitude and back talk, which is so irritating. But for the most part he seems to be making every effort to...not be a rude little snot? (lol) Things could be finally looking up just a bit. Only time will tell.

Let's see...what else.

So I've been reading MckMama's blog for a while now. I am hooked. I admit it. I follow her on Twitter. I have her blog listed on Viigo. I check from my laptop. Anywho, she calls her children MSC's, which stands for Many Small Children. I like this. I decided at the pediatrician's office the other day that I would call my boys M&M's, which stands for Mini Miracles. I feel I should share this with you so that you will know what the heck I'm talking about if I ever say M&M. I am not referring to the candy. Just my very sweet and kissable Mini Miracles.

Moving right along...

The Twins are sick. Oddly enough, my beloved Cleo is not. Which tells me that Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber have been getting into or gotten into something that is not agreeing with them. If only they could be satisfied with the bowl full of cat food but since they aren't and since they choose to eat things that cats should probably not eat, they are sick. And by sick, I mean with the runs. They are pooping all over my house! It is gross. It is disgusting. And yet, I can't seem to do anything more than laugh hysterically while I help Rob clean it up. Okay, I cannot lie, well, actually I can but I choose not to. Honestly, Rob's been cleaning it up way more than me. However, in my defense, I'm usually caring for an M&M when I spot the poop spots. So we looked up the issue on the web since it really doesn't warrant a trip for two to the Vet ER. And seriously, we don't have like $3000 to take them. Well, the web says that they shouldn't eat for at least 24 hours to give whatever it is that is irritating them a chance to work it's way out. So we've taken the food away and been feeding Cleo while she's locked in the bathroom. The Twins are less than thrilled with this arrangement. But life sucks. Maybe if they would stop eating bad things they could have a bowl full of food again. But they won't. So they're sick. And my house is...well, let's just not think about that right now.

And last but certainly not least, the paperwork for the adoption has come through! Everything is really official now. I will pick up our copy on Monday from my attorney and then I can drive all over God's creation and change Gavin's name. :) Those papers also mean that Gavin will never go to Nick's or his mother's again. He will never see them, talk to them, hear from them or generally contact them again - at least while he's a minor. Whoo woo!

And with that bit of amazing good news, I am going to get Emmett John ready for bed and go catch some zzzzz's before it's 4am, which arrives way to fast.

The title I really want to put there is "F**K FAITH".

Yup, you read that right. I didn't because I have too much respect for those of you who have faith.

I know I've said this before but I'm done. I don't have it in me anymore to operate on faith. I woke up this morning convinced that God was going to provide for us Like He Promised. WRONG.

I just knew in my heart and soul that the van was meant for us and he would work his miracles and make it happen. That he couldn't possibly let us fall to the wayside, forgotten again. WRONG.

We did not get the van. We did everything within our power to make it happen. All for naught.

I'm not writing this to offend those of you who are so sure of your faith, so strong in it that it radiates from you. In fact, I envy you. I envy those of you who are able to be so unwavering in your faith. Part of me wishes I were like you. Alas, I am not. I can only be me and I am done.

I've been screwed, forgotten, disillusioned, abused, walked on, walked over, and generally ignored far too many times. My faith, what little I had and struggled to hold on to and maintain, is gone. *poof* There is no more to be had. I will not look for it. I will no longer struggle to maintain it. I will no longer exhaust myself clinging to it. It's gone. I will mourn it and move on.

Now this probably seems dramatic to you. Especially if you do not know me or our story. I assure you that I am not dramatic at the moment. In fact, I'm quite calm and collected. The van was just the final straw. I would say that it was the straw that broke the camel's back except we weren't lucky enough to have ever received a camel. So it's the straw that broke my faith. After everything I've been through...everything we've been through I'm done.

I will not go so far as to call myself an atheist, however, I would label myself as agnostic at this point. I do not know if he exists. He might. He might not. All I know is that it's been ages since he's shown himself to me. Since he's helped me. Since he's carried me when I couldn't walk anymore. So if he's there, I can't see him (or hear him or any other verb you care to insert there).

If you've ever watched South Park you may have seen the episode with the boys at the county fair when Kyle declares "Shenanigans!" because a game is rigged. That's what I'm doing. I'm hereby declaring SHENANIGANS!!!!

I've heard it said before that we do not have to like the cards we are dealt but we have to play them to the best of our ability. To this I declare SHENANIGANS!

As a direct result of my SHENANIGANS declaration this is what I would like to see happen: I want a redo, re-deal, mulligan on life. I do not want a new husband or children or family for that matter. I want a fair, flippin' shake. I want the scales balanced, rather than so obviously tipped against us. Because seriously we can't seem to catch a break to save our lives. Let's look at the evidence (with the actual odds where available):

Exhibit 1: I was in an abusive relationship/marriage (I use that term loosely here.) before Rob. I left on Valentine's Day 2001. Before I left I was promised that IF I left I would be lied about and generally drug through the legal system as it was attempted to take Gavin from me. I left believing that our legal system would see through this ruse. I was wrong. We've spent this last 7 years fighting against this very situation.

Exhibit 2: Our house has been struck by lightning no less than 3 times the past 5 years. Seriously, what are the odds on that? (General odds of being struck once: 1 in 700,000)

Exhibit 3: Unexplained preterm labor resulting in a preterm baby times 2. (General odds: 1 in 10)

I know there are more, however, I'm just too upset at the moment to think of them. I'm just so frustrated with life at the moment. For those of you who remember, we've been van shopping for a while now. A month or so ago, we found a van that meet all of our needs. The problem is that fighting Exhibit 1 has obviously taken it's toll on us and getting financing is an issue. So unfortunately that van was not meant to be.

So Rob and I kept an eye out after that but didn't actively look because financially we are still in the same spot. Well, yesterday the perfect van was placed literally right in front of me. I was taking Gavin to OT and speech and there it was driving right in front of me with an add written on the window. I took down the number (something I never ever do) and passed it on to Rob. He called and the van is perfect! It's exactly what we need. It's right in our price range. It's a private sale as opposed to a dealership. I tried not to get excited. I really tried. I failed. I got excited. I dared to hope. I felt so certain that it was meant to be. I was wrong. We were yet again unable to obtain the financing and so yet again I've got the rug yanked out from under me.

And so I declare SHENANIGANS! I want to catch a break. I want to stop feeling as if the deck is stacked against us. Please?

Ah, true love and how it came to be...there are few things sweeter in life than a good love story. Don't you agree? Well, so do I. Here is the Story of how Rob and I met all those years ago. Then as a bonus, I'll tell you all of the ways we almost met and nearly did but didn't. :)

The Park (Coming Soon!)

The Fire (Coming Soon!)

The Engagement (Coming Soon!)

Our 1st Apartment (Coming Soon!)

I Do! (Coming Soon!)

Our Home (Coming Soon!)

***Bonus Content*** Coulda Been & Almost Was (Coming Soon!)

Our Support Teams

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As I'm writing these, it's occuring to me that there is a lot you guys don't know about me and my history. So as I feel the need. As I feel okay with it...I am going to share my story with you as well. Who I am. Where I've been. What I've been through. What I'm going through.

Crazy (Coming Soon!)

Nick (Coming Soon!)

What is PTSD?

PTSD to Me (Coming Soon!)

What is Fibromyalgia?

Fibromyalgia to Me (Coming Soon!)

Who I was/Who I wanted to be (Coming Soon!)

Who I am now (Coming Soon!)

No, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I know the title was misleading. Yes, I did it on purpose. It was fun. :)

Meet Blue and Cosmo, twin Seal Point Siamese kittens. (The names were chosen from two of the boys favorite Nicktoons. Blue = Blue's Clues ad Cosmo = The Fairly Oddparents)

Gavin is deathly afraid of mice. We don't have any, however, our house is 105 years old so at one time we did have a mouse. Gavin remembers this and is convinced the mouse is still here even though it was killed long ago by one of our previous cats. So Rob and I decided to get kitten.

He found free Seal Point Siamese mix kittens in the paper. We picked one and left his twin brother behind because he had been promised to someone else. At around 10-11pm that night she called us wanting to know if we wanted Blue's twin since the other lady never showed up. We figured what's a little more insanity and took Cosmo too. The cool thing is they share a birthday with Mr. Emmett John! :)