I have been battling insomnia for the past few days. I have no problem falling asleep but then wake up a few hours later. McGyver was extremely puzzled by this since things are going well with the business, I know where all of the kids are (except U*Haul who is underway but I repeat repeatedly that no news is good news when he is floating around under the sea) and there really didn't seem to be any stressors that ususally trigger my bouts of insomnia.
It wasn't until just a few minutes ago that it hit me. We are closing in on the day that Angel Baby died. Yep. Tomorrow will be 24 years since I last held my sweet son with the bow lips and softest little baby coo you would ever want to hear. It's strange to me how true some of the things people said to me when we lost him are. A very wise woman told me shortly after we lost Angel Baby that you never get over your loss, you just get used to it. No truer words have ever been spoken.
And in all fairness, I still scratch my head at the asshat remarks we received during the same time frame-things like-"oh-you had identical twins and they were on the same schedule-that is why one died-you couldn't give them both the attention they needed." Really-if I saw that woman today, 24 years later I think I would punch her. Or the classic-"why didn't I tell you to prop the end of the crib up? If you would have propped the end of the crib up your baby would not have died!" Yep-still bitter about the ignorant things that people said after all of this time.
I still struggle with the what ifs. When you lose a child to something like SIDS you are never, ever free of the guilt of what if I had done something (anything!) different. And don't get me started on the emotional breakdown I had when the American Academy of Pediatrics began their "Back to Sleep" campaign. What?! You mean if I would have had put him to sleep on his back he would be here? Talk about something hard to reconcile in your brain.
I know he waits for us in Heaven. I know we will be together again. I tell myself that the worse day of my life was actually the best day of his. But until we meet again March 24th will always be my Friday the 13th.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Bad Blogger, No Biscuit
I have tried to log on a million times to update here but it seems like everytime I get a free minute I get writers block. I know, I know-this from the girl that can talk your ear off. Anyhoo-just a quick update to fill you all in on the latest Dreamsicle-isms...
Dreamsicle had an issue keeping her hands to her self at dance class one evening. It was parent watch night so I was able to be in the room. As she often does when she is uncomfortable she slyly made her way over to me for a quick hug 6 times over the course of her hour class. Each time I gently reminded her that she needed to keep her hands to herself and not touch the other little girls. After class I thought we should have a discussion about her behavior. Imagine my surprise when she told me that her brain had heard me all 6 times but her hands weren't listening.
The next week before heading into class I reminded her again about the importance of keeping her hands to herself. She innocently placed both of her hands in front of my face and politely asked me to please tell her hands myself so they knew I was serious.
Aunt Genious was taking Dreamsicle to gymnastics for me. It is our custom to stop by the golden arches for a smoothie for her to drink on the way. Aunt Genious was following the plan-pulling into the driveway Dreamsicle suddenly told her that she thought her smoothie needed a friend-french fries.
We have been talking alot about knicknames. Her knickname is Peanut (given to her by a friend of the family). She wanted to know what the knicknames were of everyone in the family that had picked her knickname so I went down the list starting with the kids-A-Boots, Big A-Ya-Ya,the Mom-Worm. When I got to the Dad I said R-Wizard. She repeats everyone's knicknames and when she gets to R's, she suddenly stops and said-Wizard? Really? He definately named himself.
She likes to wear McGyver's tshirts around the house and pretend she is a princess. The other day she put one on, made a terrible face while smelling it (she picked one up out of the laundry that he had worked out in) and proceeded to tell me the following "yuck-that is a different smell for Daddy-he doesn't usually break a sweat".
Dreamsicle had an issue keeping her hands to her self at dance class one evening. It was parent watch night so I was able to be in the room. As she often does when she is uncomfortable she slyly made her way over to me for a quick hug 6 times over the course of her hour class. Each time I gently reminded her that she needed to keep her hands to herself and not touch the other little girls. After class I thought we should have a discussion about her behavior. Imagine my surprise when she told me that her brain had heard me all 6 times but her hands weren't listening.
The next week before heading into class I reminded her again about the importance of keeping her hands to herself. She innocently placed both of her hands in front of my face and politely asked me to please tell her hands myself so they knew I was serious.
Aunt Genious was taking Dreamsicle to gymnastics for me. It is our custom to stop by the golden arches for a smoothie for her to drink on the way. Aunt Genious was following the plan-pulling into the driveway Dreamsicle suddenly told her that she thought her smoothie needed a friend-french fries.
We have been talking alot about knicknames. Her knickname is Peanut (given to her by a friend of the family). She wanted to know what the knicknames were of everyone in the family that had picked her knickname so I went down the list starting with the kids-A-Boots, Big A-Ya-Ya,the Mom-Worm. When I got to the Dad I said R-Wizard. She repeats everyone's knicknames and when she gets to R's, she suddenly stops and said-Wizard? Really? He definately named himself.
She likes to wear McGyver's tshirts around the house and pretend she is a princess. The other day she put one on, made a terrible face while smelling it (she picked one up out of the laundry that he had worked out in) and proceeded to tell me the following "yuck-that is a different smell for Daddy-he doesn't usually break a sweat".
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