This is where I get all asky...

Friends? Readers? Lurkers?

I'm trying to make changes over here at JPJ.
It's a bit of a slow-going process because I'm not tech/blog savvy at all and therefore, I'm kinda wingin' it.

Here's what I've done so far:

Imported posts from an old blog. They're important to the journey I took during my pregnancy, which is the sole reason I originally started this adventure.

I created an "About Me"  page. Don't expect too much, it's a work-in-progress.

I created a contact page. You can email me, and follow me on Twitter! Yay!

I also put up a page leading you all to my poetry blog.  I you get a chance, go peruse it. I'm trying to get back into that style of catharsis again. Not everyone likes poetry and I get that, but who knows, you might find something that flips your skirt.

This blog started as a pregnancy/mommy diary. It was never really meant for eyes other than those in my inner-circle. Who would care anyway, right?

But it's definitely morphed into something more.

As such-
I'm trying to push myself to be a bit more honest and vulnerable in my writing, as I mentioned in this post.
and I want this blog to reach more people.

I've gotten several emails from  strangers about how certain posts of mine helped them, validated them, touched them. Blew me away.  Me?  My quirky blog helped you in some way?


If I can help someone? I want to. TRULY.


So do me a favor...it's a big one....


Read through my blog.  From the beginning.


Get to know me. And tell your friends/readers to do so as well.
If you come across a post that speaks to you or of someone in your life, pass it on!
Bring others on OVER.


Email me, comment, ask questions.

Let's connect.



I'm really trying to do something with this blog....

What EXACTLY that something is, I haven't got a clue yet.

BUT I do know-

I have things to say. Experiences to share. Even encouraging/helping one person is worth it.
It's kind of a corny thing to say, but it's true. Think about the written words that have helped you out. 
I definitely have mine! I just want to return the favor!


Soooooo:

Read my little blog.
Tell others.
Pass it on!
Comment.
Email.
Connect!!


DO IT.  Pretty Please? Ha!

Suitable for Consumption

Remember when I gifted you all with this fantastical blog?

[If you haven't clicked your way into her world, you are MISSING OUT.]

Well, she has written a review of  my dinky-little-blog-that-could in her weekly  
"Featured Bloggers" post.
Do me a favor, and head on over to read it....Go! Go! Go! Ha!

Honestly? I'm floored by the inclusion.  It bought tears to my eyes and validation to my heart.

And I mean that in the most non-cheese ball way.

I respect her work so much, and each of the bloggers that she has featured thus far have been so diversely special.  To know that she respects me?  That she feels that I need to be shared with others?

Is fucking rad.
 
As of late, I've really tried to push myself with this blog.  I want to be honest. Of the brutal, reaching-out-to-others, staring-down-myself sort.  Not that I have ever lied in these pages, but I have omitted and sugar-coated form time-to-time.  I have censored myself, not saying things that needed to be said and/or not writing posts that should have been written because I was afraid.

of  Rejection

of Mocking

of Anger 

of Judgment  
of FAILURE

Afraid that I would not be believed, understood, or supported.
That no one would want to hear me.  Insecurity and Self-Doubt, reigning supreme...

Mostly, though?

I  was afraid of hearing MYSELF.  Of facing monsters that I've tried to hard to keep at bay.  Of opening up my stores of memories/pain/thoughts/perspective to the light of public view.  Because once I did that, I knew there would be no going back.  Nowhere to hide and pretend to be what I thought people might want.

But here I am.  I have crossed the threshold.

Thank you to all of you who've supported me thus far. I love you all.
Thank you to Kris over at PrettyAllTrue. A Million Times.
Thank you to the new readers who have/may stop on by. Please continue to do so, and feel free to pass me on to others. If you have a story to share, share away!



I will do my best to let you all in...


and let myself out.

Cerebral Palsy: It's Not as Sexy as it Sounds

I have Cerebral Palsy.  I know I've mentioned it in various posts (like this one, that one, or yep, that one), but I realized today over coffee with one of my close friends, as she was asking me about my experience with it, that I've never explained it in my blog...

[Take a second to read the info on the Mayo Clinic page, if you want. I like that site because it lays things out very clearly and concisely.]

If you're wondering which things apply to me, here's a short list:

• Variations in muscle tone-stiffness/weakness
• Stiff muscles and exaggerated reflexes (spasticity)
• Lack of muscle coordination (ataxia)
• Tremors or involuntary movements
• Slow, writhing movements (athetosis)
• Delays in reaching motor skills milestones (as an infant) , such as pushing up on arms, sitting up alone or crawling
• Favoring one side of the body, such as reaching with only one hand or dragging a leg while crawling-My right side is my weak side and my arm will hang and/or my leg will drag, especially when I'm tired or in pain.
• Difficulty walking, such as walking on toes, a crouched gait, a scissors-like gait with knees crossing or a wide gait-Before my surgery, I was on my toes and crouched...nearly impossible to walk that way.
• Difficulty with precise motions, such as picking up a crayon or spoon-Or holding a pencil, handling scissors, typing, buttoning/zipping/snapping etc. As a kid I went thru a lot of PT to learn how to do those things, and I still get frustrated while doing it from time-to-time...particularly when you add a squirming toddler to the equation.

The lack of explanation is partly because it's a difficult disorder to explain, affecting each of us that has it a bit differently, partly because I don't even fully understand it, and mostly because that is not how I want people to "see" me.

 A brief history of Me and CP:
I was born about 3 months early.
I was 2 lbs. 6oz.
I needed surgery right away (and lived in a incubator for the first few months)...My heart and lungs were underdeveloped.
They told my mother that I wouldn't live through the night.
When I did, then they said I wouldn't last the week.
As I proved I was going to be around awhile, then it turned into:
She'll be mentally handicapped, she won't talk, she won't walk. and so on....

I talked very early. And from what I was saying, it was clear that I was very smart.

But I didn't walk. I didn't move very well at all.

When I was 2 and a half, they diagnosed me with Cerebral Palsy.

Along with that was more of what I wouldn't do...and leg-braces and walkers and wheelchairs and the mine-field that is the school-yard  playground.

When I was 7 years old, a surgeon decided that I would be a candidate for this experimental surgery.  It was risky, but it was free. It in my childhood mind, offered the possibility of being normal.
Yeah, it could backfire, and I could never walk again or DIE, but WHAT-EVER.   
Sign me UP!

The recovery from surgery was hell. It was long and excruciating and exhausting. Add in the less-than picturesque environment that was my home life, and I wasn't sure I was going to make it.

It took about 2 -3 years to get to the place I now (more or less)  find myself physically. I had to relearn to sit, crawl, walk, the whole shebang.  but the first day I went to school without a walker or braces or orthopedic shoes was one of the best days of my life.

YET,

I spent most of my childhood as the "handicapped" girl. The "retarded" girl. The "girl who walks funny" girl.

And I was bitter. I still was in pain. I still had tremors and a limp (among other things).
I still was never going to be an Olympic gymnast/ballerina/high-heel wearing supermodel.

I was never going to climb a tree. Or ride a bike.

People looked at me with that "Ohhh, she's special" look of pity on their faces...

It pissed me off royally.  You mean I went through all of that for NOTHING?

(Being told that I was worthless at home really wasn't helping either)

Fuck me.

But then I pulled my head out of my ass and realized that the only way I was going to have a life is if I got the hell outta dodge and ignored all the voices said:

NO You Can't.


So I fought it. Lied about it even....I didn't have Cerebral Palsy, I just had been in a car accident. People seemed to accept and deal with that easier than CP.  I did my best to hide my symptoms, and always tried to act like I was fine. If I was hurting, I tried not to show it. If I needed help, I would have rather injured myself than ask for it*. I avoided situations where my condition would be glaringly apparent.

I refused to apply for a handicapped  placard. To me, that was like pinning a big scarlet H to my blouse. Hell to the no.**

I pushed myself  and did things that I probably shouldn't have, but I was so desperate to just be like everyone else. To prove to myself that I wasn't trapped by my disability.

There are times that I did feel trapped. That I felt sorry for myself. I still do, occasionally.

But I know that I am so very lucky.
That it could have been so much worse.

Sure, I need help putting on socks and shoes, and it's hard for me to do certain things that most people take for granted, but at least I can feed myself. At least I can breathe on my own...there are those with CP that can't.

I do fear the future, what getting old will be like for me. For my husband and children. I worry that my son will miss out on things because of his mother's limitations, I worry that my husband will too,  for that matter.

Sometimes, my fears overwhelm me, and I feel defeated. But I constantly remind myself that I so lucky...To have overcome so much. To have been able to live the life I wanted. To have amazing friends. To have a loving husband and beautiful son.


It took me a long time to accept that I had Cerebral Palsy, (and as such, there would be complications/limitations-I was gonna have to tackle life in a different fashion than I'd hoped) and a long time to not try and hide it.

I now am very upfront about who I am...as you may have noticed...ahem....perhaps...

I'm so happy that I finally let myself do that. It's made me a better person.

That being said...

The General Public can often be unkind to those who are disabled:
They often treat you like you're contagious, or that you somehow did this to yourself. Like you're not a whole person. They ask rude questions and make idiotic assumptions.

I had a guy who told me once: I really like you, but I could never date a cripple. I said: Well, I could never date an asshole, so no hard feelings.

My husband was once asked if he married me because he had a fetish for gimps. TRUE STORY.
(It's a miracle that individual remained alive....)

I don't mind if people ask  questions. If they want to know more about my condition-what it is, what causes it, etc., but a little tip? Don't lead into your queries with:
"What's wrong with you?" Or, "So, are you like,  retarded?" 
 


It will not end well. When asking questions, be respectful. Or I will make you sorry.





(In all seriousness, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! I'll do my best to answer them!)





*If I'm being honest, I fall into that pattern of behavior still now and then because I don't want to be a burden, or be seen as weak. It's something I continually work on. 

**I want to be very clear about something:
I have an enormous respect for the Disabled community. I was wrong to be ashamed of my disability. I was wrong to hide it/lie about it. No one should ever be ashamed of something like that.  I was frustrated and afraid. I was made to feel like a burden by the people who were supposed to be caring for me.  I just wanted to be treated like a person, and as a child/teenager, denying my CP was the only way I thought I could be.  I would never want a young person with any sort of disability to read this blog and think that they should do that too.  Be proud of who you are. Don't hide and don't lie.  Be honest with the world and yourself. That's a more fulfilling life that faking it could ever get you.

Oh, I forgot. I'm not allowed to...

Have a life.
Set boundaries.
Say no.
Stand up for myself.
Get respect.
Expect common courtesy.
Receive love unless I've earned it.


What brought on this tirade you ask?


Mother's Day.

I was very excited about this coming M-Day, it being my first official one and all...a day I have waited pretty much my whole freaking life for.

BUT, it was also the first M-day for my mom and my MIL as grandmothers. Exciting right?

I thought so.
So over a month ago, I set to planning.

I thought it would be awesome for us all to celebrate together.

My mother wanted to celebrate separately.
She gave me grief about the fact that she (or my siblings) never sees us and never sees the baby.

(forget the fact that we have tried and tried to go see her, but she's always "busy", and oh, what was that other thing? Oh yeah. I DON'T DRIVE.)

But despite logic, I felt the gnawing of guilt beginning.

So I tell her that we'll come up and spend the day with her, just tell me what day.

She hems and haws for weeks--she's busy, you know.

Finally, she decides on the Saturday of M-Day weekend. Great! Okay! All systems go!

Until I realize that my best friend/college roommate is graduating with her MA, and her celebration is on Saturday. The SAME Saturday. My brain had not previously put that together.

My bad.

So I call my Mom, apologize, explain and say that we can still come up but we won't be able to make it until the (she lives an hour away) evening. She says that's just fine!

Whew! Crisis averted!

Until I get a profanity-laden call from my sister in which she questions my humanity because I waited until the last minute to plan M-Day (apparently that's my sole responsibility even though my mother has 2 other children), AND I'm not spending the DAY of M-day with mom, but the completely unloving day before (never mind that it's also M-day for my MIL too, but that's crazy talk) which is just UNACCEPTABLE.

I explain to her that I had been trying to plan M-Day for over a month, and that our mother CHOSE Saturday.

This shut her up for a couple seconds, but amazingly, I was still the uber-bitch, because I didn't call and tell her that. When I tried to explain the phenomenon known as a two-way telephone, I was immediately shut down. Didn't I know that she was busy? Didn't I know that I had to make time for her?

What an abhorrent person I am, being busy with my husband and son.

But as we all know,as she so helpfully informed me--it’s not that hard to take care of a baby, anyway.

So after she hangs up on me, I call my mom.

I ask her why she didn't tell me she was upset. She denies it until I tell her that my sister called.

Then guess what happened? You'll NEVER guess...

Hey! That's right! It was all my fault again.

I've abandoned my family. It's my attitude that has degraded our relationship.

I do nothing but judge them and think I'm better than them.

My husband is mean to them.

I don't put forth enough effort to compromise with them.

I don't make enough of an effort to call or visit.

I shouldn't speak up when I feel like I'm being disrespected, because I just take things too personally.

I shouldn't say that I disapprove of the drug and/or alcohol use around me, or mention my worry over the legal issues that have resulted as a consequence of it, because who wants to be around someone who is always judging?

I shouldn't expect people to respect my choices or acknowledge my successes, because that's just me throwing things in people's faces.

And the key to it all:

I just need to accept people for who they are and let them say what they want to say, and do what they want to do because that is my duty as their family member and the only way I will ever have a relationship with them.

Suck it up, and put aside my own feelings, because they are all I will ever have. Even my husband won't always be there, because as I should fucking know, it won't last.

Silly me, what WAS I thinking?

I went off and forgot my place again.

I'm going to keep on forgetting, so brace yourselves.

I'm tired of being the bad guy, the asshole, the one who doesn't care about anybody, the one who is selfish and judgmental, simply because:

I no longer make them the center of my universe, dropping everything to do whatever they want me to, whenever they want me to.

I will not tolerate being insulted and disrespected any time I say no or disagree or choose to go a different path.

I won't stand for my husband being treated poorly because he sticks up for me or is protective of me. Guess what? It IS his business. As his wife and father of our son, what goes on with, or is said to us, is in fact, his business.

[And yes, there was a time we broke up. He didn't cheat on me or abuse me, he just got commitment cold feet for a short time. It happens. Get over it. We did. Stop using that as an excuse to treat him like dirt. It's a lame one.]

I will not bring my son around people who are under the influence of drugs and alcohol. That is my RIGHT as his mother. If that makes me judgy and superior, then so it shall be. I don't like being around it, so why the hell would I want my baby to be?

I will not apologize for making my own life and building a family with my husband. I have worked my ass off to get where I am today, and my husband and son are my priority. That is how it should be.

I have spent YEARS making an effort to be closer, to live up to expectations, to make everyone happy, to win over love and approval, to be what I was "supposed" to be, and I'm done. D-O-N-E.

There's no reciprocity, no respect, no compassion. Nothing EVER comes honestly-without motive or agenda.

Don't worry though, I'll probably still continue to second-guess myself

{Am I mean, uncaring, selfish, and judgmental? Do I expect too much? Am I not giving enough? What more could I have done to make it better?}

as life-long habits are hard to break, but I will slowly fade it out because I REFUSE to be manipulated any longer.

I have people in my life who love and support me unconditionally. That is enough.

I agree, that at the end of the day all you really have is your family but--

Blood is not the end-all of what makes a family.


Maybe someday, things can be different, but for now, I need to be different.



This will probably never be read by those it's directed at, and even if it WAS, it would fall of deaf-ly livid  ears.

But I had to get it out, you know?

A lot of hours, therapy and soul-searching have been spent on what to do with my relationships with certain members of my family--how to have one, frankly.

The conclusion that I have come to is that I can have one, but it won't be a healthy one. It won't be reciprocal or unconditional.

It'll have its good times, but ultimately it will just be another round in generational vicious cycle.

Years ago, I would have dove right in. I wanted to be loved and recognized so badly by my family, that I would gut myself on command. Occasionally, I would rebel against that, in an attempt to stand my ground, but after being hyper-villianized, I would feel so guilty and ashamed that I would do ANYTHING to make it better.

Through therapy and education, I started to see the abuse in those relationships, but was still willing to take it because, after all, they're family, right?

Then I met my husband. It dawned of me that if I ever wanted to have a family of my own, I had to get the HELL out of my family's whirling fuck-upedness.

When I got pregnant with our son that idea really crystallized, but yet there was this renewed sense of "maybe we can work it out," because a child brings out the hope in people-mostly though, it was me, as per the usual, second-guessing myself: "What kind of person wouldn't want her family around her son?"

So I tried. And tried. Made phone calls, visited, let them in to my life, my new family, my new self.

Ever hear the phrase, "same shit, different day?"
That's basically how it is.

It's how it's always been, now featuring an extra helping of passive-aggressiveness.

Yay!

And I am OVEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRR it.

I deserve better.

Even if I DIDN'T, my husband and son do.

They deserve better from me.


I know I can't cut them out completely (at least not until we flee the state), but we desperately need the emotional distance. After this, all my efforts cease.


We'll see how it goes.

It's important to clarify that I love my family very much, more than I think most people understand, but just because you love someone, doesn't always mean that you should surround yourself with them. Heredity is not a get-out-of-jail-free card for bad behavior. I don't care what anybody says.


Happy Mother's Day to all my fellow Mamas out there. Have a love-filled day.

He's going to be shaving tomorrow morning, I'm convinced.

O is soooooo big already. He sat up on his own last night, and I burst into tears!

I can't handle this growing up business. OBVIOUSLY, I want him to have a long and healthy life, but can't he just be my baby forever?

No....? Crap.

It's outta control.

I can't believe that he's going to be 6 months next week....

In related news, I turned 29 recently. I was not a fan of turning 29.

Wasn't I supposed to accomplish a lot more? Aren't I supposed to be thinner and more successful?

30 is looming, and things are not the way I'd hoped for them to be.

Last year, we were here and oh yeah, here.

And while some things have changed, it's still a very familiar story except now we're throwing in a baby for extra character development.

It's scary and it's frustrating b/c I want my son to have a good life. I want my husband and I to have a good marriage. Which we do, but the last 2 years has been very hard for us. I don't think we've really had a moment yet to breathe-- to really relax and enjoy being a couple, and now, a family.

We're always trying to figure out how to get to the next step-holding our breath, b/c it feels like at any moment, the other shoe could drop.

I know that's a horrible way to live. I know we need to be grateful (we are) for what we do have.

There's just so much pressure to be "successful." To want more.

This got me thinking: What IS that, exactly?

According to the ever-pervasive "they," success is:
a well-paying salaried job, a nice home, a nice car, a Roth IRA and a 401K.

My husband works hard, gets paid by the hour.
We live in his parent's nice home.
He drives a Jetta that has over a 102 thousand miles on it and a constant check engine light blinking.
I think I may have a great-great grandfather named Ira.
I have friends who've run 5-10ks.

You can see why we feel a little second-class these days....

Butt on the flip side, I constantly try to remind myself of the progress we've made since moving in with the ILs, that perhaps won't recieve any kudos from "the them," but has been huge for us.

After both losing our jobs, my hubs has been at his for 3 years.
We were able to climb out of the red and move into black.
We're able to pay our bills in full every month.
We've drastically improved our credit that took a hit after being unemployed.
We're finally paying down our debt (slowly, but) successfully.
We actually have some money in savings. (!!!)
Most importantly, we've continued to grow in our marriage and we've welcomed a healthy, gorgeous son who we keep fed and cared for.

Why isn't that successful? Where's the respect for those triumphs?



We would LOVE to move out on our own. We dream of owning a home, of being debt-free of having a 401K, but for now, but we can only do so much.

I know that my 29th year is probably not going to be what I had envisioned, and the same will probably be said for my 30th year, but every day I will try to keep moving forward and be successful in my perseverance.

Even so, I know there will be days where I curse everything, cry, and rage against the wreckage that I feel my life has become, but who doesn't have those days?

Things WILL turn around.
(RIGHT?)

We will finally make enough money to get our own place.
We will be able to buy a new car.
We will be debt free.
We will get to the next step.

It might just not be as soon as we hoped. And that has to be okay.

Because:

We are better off than we were.
We are moving forward.
We are in this together.
We are good parents.
We are a FAMILY.


Being an adult is hard. Being okay with not being a "perfect adult" is even harder.

I'm thankful for all that I have. I think it's okay to want to achieve more.

BUT

I have a tendency to criticize my accomplishments that aren't all-encompassing, that don't fit squarely in to society's check list for a happy life.

I have to stop that, for the sake of myself and my family.


It's the little victories that usually add up to mean the most. I need to stop and celebrate them.

I hope your celebrate your own.