The Reality

Last week, right before Christmas, I was going to write about my little light. Through my darkness, depression and all the chaos, she is a light. For two hours each week, we can drink beer and giggle about things that aren't funny to anyone else. It's a refreshing reprieve, and I need it. But last week, that light disappeared. I mistakenly thought she was caught up in a sort of holiday-inspired heaven with her boyfriend. I cried, thinking she wasn't there for me anymore, and i'd lost her to her boyfriend. Fuck me for introducing them--I needed her! He's also my friend, so I found out that she was actually lost in a sort of holiday-inspired depression and not talking to anyone. I should've known, dammit. Now it seems he broke up with her. WTF. He regrets it, she's pissed, and i'm in the middle. Why? Well, because they put me there, and I KEEP myself there, on account of the angel wings I have tattooed on my back. No, no, this isn't a post to toot ...

Whoa, Nelly, that's a lot of med syringes! Roughly every week, I thoroughly soak them in hot, soapy water, rinse them and let them dry for 2 days. Cuz we go through a lot in a day. Just a little detail in our house of Leigh's. (And if you're wondering what the Leigh's is, it's Leigh's Syndrome, and you're free to google it.) This is a beautiful candid of my daughter opening Christmas gifts...that she bought for us. She and her Life Skills Class went on a field trip to Walmart and Wendy's, armed with lists their loving parents helped them create, as to what they'd like to get for their loved ones. She came home with a coloring book and colored pencils for her ungrateful brother, candles, bubble bath and chocolate for me and busy bones for the dog. And like I said, she opened them. "Shouldn't we wait until Christmas?" I asked reasonably. "No!" "Oh, wait, um, usually the person you're giving the gift to opens t...

My ex-boss made me realize something i'd never thought about. First, my ex-boss: she's brilliant, beautiful, motivated and inspiring. When she quit, I teared up, right there in the church conference room in front of my coworkers, and not just because she's my friend, but because the woman was tailormade for this job--and I needed her there. Cuz she's awesome sauce. ANYWAY. We met for pizza while our girls were at girl scouts, and she said she's rethinking what she wants to do with her life, that she may try something totally new. She loves cooking and architecture--I didn't know about the architecture thing, so I was fascinated and supportive. Imagine pushing 40 and starting a different path, based solely on your passions. I knew it was possible, I just didn't realize until that moment how impossible it was for me. But here's why. No pity party required; i'm gonna try to do this without any immense self-deprecation, but it'll be hard becaus...

Tonight when Daddy went to brush her teeth, as soon as the spin brush touched her teeth, she ran from the bathroom screaming. He accidentally used our minty toothpaste instead of her toddler paste, and apparently it burns when you're not ready for it. He wiped it off, brushed her teeth with the right toothpaste. I heard her screaming at the top of her lungs as I poured my second glass of Moscato. He gave her water, I gave her milk (with false promises of "This will help. Keep sipping."). She calmed down and went to bed, with a look on her face like her puppy just died. This morning she awoke when I turned off her gastro pump. She skipped between Christmas songs on TV and my Facebook page on my phone until we went for a Christmas tree. Her brother managed to break my heart in 27 different pieces because he didn't go along (fucking teenagers, seriously). We picked a good one, and while I had her at my work at their Advent celebration, Daddy discovered that the tree we...