Monday, August 30, 2010

U. G. L. Y.

This is the worst I've felt in a million years. Make that a million and a half. I am angry at everyone and everything. My mind is racing over everything that I fucked up today that I half did, half remembered, planned wrong.

I screamed in the car all the way home. Well, not all the way, just from when the fucking change oil light came on after the ABS light came on. The oil just got changed! The brakes suck! I can't take the car in tomorrow! I can't be stuck in a car dealership with 3 kids all day. I need to get Ruby her school supplies. I need to make phone calls for Link, to get a new script for his new OT, to be home for his OT appointment!

The screaming didn't feel very good. It was freaky and loud but that didn't stop me. I wanted my throat to come out of my mouth, for my insides to come outside and look as twisted as I feel right now. I wanted physical evidence besides my dark circles, grey hair and sagging gut that I feel BAD.

Link is crying up in his bed and I've told the girls to leave me alone. Nice. I can't scream in the house and I can't break anything and for now, my insides are still in.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Cape Cod. Part II

Despite the raggedy-bitch-episode, the ice cream was so nice, we had it twice.

We shopped for toys, touristy sweatshirts and ate lobster quesadilla. Lincoln ate sand, barked at seagulls and guzzled salt water. He stood for 4 seconds on his own, smiled for the camera (on command) and fell in love with Roxy the dog.

Penelope fell into the deep-end of the pool, fully clothed and did not freak out. I repeat: DID NOT FREAK OUT. She laid down in the waves and filled her bathing suit with the ocean floor. She hugged her cousins with abandon and rocked out with Maggie to Taylor Swift.

Ruby took the lead, swam like a fish and snuck cookies like a 10 year old should. She tanned her face, walked on the beach at night and saw shooting stars.

And I got to enjoy the sturdy, easy comforts of my cousins and their amazing & beautiful children.

New but not improved

I'm changing. While Lincoln inspires restraint and calm and patience in me, the rest of the world is driving me insane.

I'm angry, uncooperative and quick to rile. Stress at work has finally given me my second panic attack (at least I recognized it early this time, locked myself in the bathroom, cried and got some texting therapy from the hot husband).

I find myself looking for ways out all day long. It's hard and getting harder.

Last night, a pompous prick of a baby-daddy started a fight with me and I fought back. I was yelling in my patient's room telling him he was rude and disrespectful and embarrassing himself. My pulse went up, but I never felt afraid. If another nurse hadn't heard the exchange, I probably wouldn't have said anything to anyone. This is not familiar behavior for me.

We keep losing babies at work. We almost lost a mother. Going there so much is not helping. It's not good there. NOT GOOD.

I want to sleep for a thousand years and then wake up, have a pee, and go back to sleep for another thousand.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Cape Cod. Part I

Lincoln shrieks now. SHRIIIIEEEEEKS. Mostly when he's tired. Sometimes when he's overwhelmed. Occasionally when he's hot or hungry. Hard telling, though. Kid can't talk, so we guess.

Anyway, when the very pregnant woman walked into the very crowded ice cream shop to "get away from a kid who was screaming its head off"; I knew she had experienced my sweet guy, my sweet screamy guy.

Little bit later when we were sitting on a bench outside the shop and baby boy was eschewing PJ's red-raspberry-swirl-yogurt-with-rainbow-sprinkles for my triple-chocolate-with-jimmies, preggo lady walks by. Yup. Universe gave me a shot and I took it. Hit the fucker out of the park, too.

It my nice-y, nicest I say "good luck with you baby!" She turns, smiles, sees Link in my lap. Turns away as her mother (mother in law? Aunt? I dunno) goes "make that BABIES!"


Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Sweetest Thing

Link had a great, fun, happy day. At one point (while she was watching "30 Minute Meals"), Penelope was putting on her own cooking show starring Lincoln as "the chicken"; like he was the food. He was laughing so hard tears were streaking into his ears as she salted him, cut him with a VERY SHARP KNIFE and transferred him from pot to pot (couch to couch).

We love him. Desperately. He's so much like us but also that tiny bit different (just the teensy, wobbly leg on his "x" chromosome) that makes him so fascinating and wonderful to us.

How lucky to have this baby.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Cult of Personality

I've been lucky enough to have spoken to two Fragile X "Royal Family" members this week. I fucking love them. I love hearing about their children, their passion for their children and how they believe their Fragile X child has made them better people. They are devoid of self pity and rich with appreciation.

They fight. And I'm going to fight with them.