In the spirit of the Great Bucket List Adventure I have decided to create my very own Bucket List. I figured why the hell not. I gots nothing better to do tonight. So here goes…

1- Paris. I am an absolutely unapologetic Francophile. I need to brush up on the french first though. And maybe lose forty or sixty pounds. I don’t wanna look like a total jackwagon. If I close my eyes really tight(and the chirrens are all asleep,’cause let’s face it ain’t quiet in a house filled with three boys and two crazy dogs unless they are either sleeping or gone!) I can picture myself strolling down some quaint Paris street with my one true love, holding hands and just being together.

2- Buy a beach house. Or a cabin in the mountains. I haven’t decided which yet. But I gots time.

3- Write a book.

4- Finish my anthropology degree. Of which I only have two years left. Totally do-able. Except for the whole three small children thing and the time factor. Because we all know how much time mama’s have to themselves in a day. Meh.

5- See my beloved USC TROJANS play in the Coliseum. Or, better yet, the NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! Yeah, baby. Now we are talkin’.

6-

Yeah, that’s all I have for right now. But hey, it’s a start!

You have been such a joy to us. Always. You were such a good baby, so happy and loving. And curious about everything around you. You ate well and slept well and, aside from the New Year’s Day Incident(which scared about twelve years off my life!) you were just the world’s most perfect child. Even the toddler years weren’t too bad. Except maybe when you were four. You were a handful then. But you also had a baby brother to boss around and you sure did love that!

Now? You have two little brothers who quite simply adore you. You are pretty patient with them. Except when you’re not. You are quiet, funny, silly, adventurous, curious, loving and so kind it melts my heart. You have grown into such an amazing young man. Daddy and I are so very proud of you. And so very blessed to have been given the gift of you, eight glorious years ago today.

We love you, Nub. Happy Birthday! We look forward to sharing many, many more with you.

All our love,
Mama, Daddy, Dub and Bub.

The assistant principal began the meeting by handing me a parent handbook for the Student Support Teams.. Which is basically a support system for children with academic/ behavioural issues. It took absolutely every ounce of willpower I possessed not to put my head on the table and bawl my eyes out. I know that’s silly. I know it was silly at the time. But Nub is my baby. And it hurt. Once she finished going over the handbook with me we started talking about Nub and the issues he had been facing in school. They had been observing him for several weeks prior to our meeting and wanted to talk to me about what they had noticed. And that’s where the school psychologist took over.

She asked me if I knew anything about Asperger’s Syndrome. And the pieces fell into place. We discussed their findings and what steps would have to be taken next. The more we talked the more it made sense. She gave me some information and told me to contact our pediatrician. They would begin testing him as soon as he returned to school.

And that’s where we are right now. Today. There are only two days of school this week so I imagine they will begin testing him next week. I’m ready to do whatever has to be done for my son. My sweet baby boy who will be eight years old next week.

I know this doesn’t fundamentally change who Nub is. I get that. They said he was brilliant, but had social and anxiety issues. No bigs, right? Except yeah, it is pretty bigs. My heart breaks for him, not because of the possibility of Asperger’s, but because being a child who is “different” in ANY way is hard. Children are cruel. Hell, people are cruel. He already feels weird and like no one likes him. Which breaks my heart all over again. I want it to all be okay. For him, and his little brothers. But I can’t kiss this boo-boo and magically make it all better. I wish that I could…

Things like that really irritate the crap outta me. Why do people feel compelled to change things that worked pefectly fine to begin with? The new site is VERY confusing and I do NOT like it, Sam I am. So we will just have to see if I feel like posting every day without the added incentive of cool swag.

Gah.

Sigh. It’s kind of doubtful that would ever actually happen. Um hello? Mother of THREE chirrens here.

It’s crunch time. It starts tomorrow. Gah.

People have always made jokes to me about the Seven Year Itch and I’ve always laughed it off. Until the seventh year of our marriage. Which was by far the most difficult time in my life. My parents were still living with us, Jimmy was about to lose his job, we had just had another baby and it was all building up and building up and I really didn’t think I could take much more. 

And then my husband left me. Us. Because he was having an affair with a woman old enough to be his mother. All those stupid clichés were true. I was devastated. Crushed. And I couldn’t really fall apart because I had three children who needed me to help them make sense out of something I barely understood myself. It was painful. Because while he believed himself to be in love with The Whore(what? It’s her name) I was still in love with him. Divorce was mentioned. As was a possible reconciliation. My parents were pushing for divorce. I wanted to reconcile. As crazy as it sounds. I had always told him that if he ever cheated on me then our marriage would be over. And I absolutely believed that to be true. Until it happened to me. I won’t go into all the details with you. Instead I will simply say that there was blame to be placed on both of us. The majority of it can definitely be placed on him, mind you. But I played a part in it as well. Which is a bitter pill to swallow I assure you. We decided that he could see the boys three nights a week at a park between both of our homes. And during that time we began talking to each other. Rather warily at first, but still honest-to-god conversations. And he began to realize that he made a mistake. Which did not go over well at all with my parents. And now I’m gonna fast forward through a couple of things that happened because they need to remain private.

One of the things we discussed was me going back to work in some capacity. He had lost his job and needed a break. He was worn out. So I put applications in at restaurants all over town. Because we figured that me going back to waiting tables would be the easiest thing to do. And I get an email from Logan’s Roadhouse saying that they want to interview me. I was so excited. I went in and met two of the managers and was told I would have to come back to meet the GM. At that point I was pretty sure I had the job. On the day of my final interview my father had a doctor’s appointment. So Jimmy said he would come with me and watch the kids while I had my interview. Which pissed my parents off. Two hours before said interview I show up AT MY OWN HOME to shower and get ready, only to be met at the door by my parents who won’t let us in. My father starts yelling at my husband and the next thing I know he throws a punch at Jimmy and hits him in the head. While Jimmy is holding the baby. So Jimmy has one hand on the railing and the other on the baby carrier and he is trying to keep from falling down the stairs. I’m crying and screaming for him to stop because the baby is right there. But he won’t. Then the neighbor comes over and gets involved. Even though he knows nothing about the situation. We are all yelling at each other. It was horrible. Jimmy calls the police. They show up and talk to all of us. Jimmy decides not to file a report because I asked him not to. I just want it to be over. Finally they leave and I get the baby from the house and take him to the car. I go back inside and get in the shower. I grab as much stuff as I can because there is no way in hell I can stay in that house after that. Ugly, hateful words are exchanged and I leave to go to my interview. I have absolutely NO idea what was said during that final interview, but it was what he wanted to hear because I got the job. Now we just had to find some place to stay.

And that would be where my BFF came in. I called her and told her what happened and she told me to drive to her house. We could stay there as long as we needed. Which only turned out to be a day because we moved in with my mother-in-law the next day. And we stayed there with her for about six weeks. We began the process of healing our family. One day at a time. I started work, Nub changed schools and life began to get back to normal. We started looking for a place to live and were thrown another curveball when we found what was to become our new house. The most beautiful, perfect house we had ever seen. In an amazing neighborhood, for less than what we were paying previously. We moved in the day before Thanksgiving.

I’m not saying that everything is perfect. We are still working on some issues, but those will remain private. I left out some things here and there, but you still get the idea of where I’ve been for the last six months. We have come such a long way since then…

Now? Today? Life is very, very good. And I’m grateful for my friends and my in-laws. I could have never made it through any of this without them. I am truly blessed, and I absolutely know it.

Where was I? Oh yes. I will have all three children by myself. I am a teeny bit with the nervous. I can admit that. For some crazy reason, or as I now believe, a moment of lack of sleep induced madness, I told the boys I would take them to Fernbank. Madness. Sheer madness. I may or may not have told them they could invite their cousin. ‘Cause really, at that point what’s one more child? But that really could have been a conversation I was having with myself inside my head. I dunno. Guess we will have to wait and see! They love Fernbank and are so excited about going. I love that it’s air-conditioned. What? I live in the South. It’s already hotter than the hammered down hinges and it’s only May.(although we have had a couple of strange days where it has been rather cool.) I need to pick up a few things before we go. Namely, a baby carrier. Then I would have both hands free! See the genius there? See it? The girl is good.

The hubs had been making all the appropriate noises about how he will miss me, the kids, blah, blah, blah. But secretly I think he is excited to be able to do things by himself. That would probably include going potty by himself. The thought of that would be enough to send me into peals of rapture. And did I mention the sleeping? By himself? Not having to wake up and feed the baby? And the frickin’ sleeping? Although I really can’t complain. I am going out with my girlfriends next week AND I have a girl’s only trip planned for the Fall. That involves outlet malls and lots of SHOPPING. And a Coach store. That’s all I’m saying.

As long as he comes home with a present it’ll all be good. I do love me some tacky souvenirs.

Some days more than others. Some days it’s almost like a physical ache. Some days it’s like a goddamned punch in the gut.

I don’t have any answers. And I think that may be the crappiest part. No one wants to talk about it. It hurts them too. I can understand that. I can barely talk about it without crying and it’s been seven years. Seven years. Seven years since some drunken asshole hit you while you were crossing the street and then drove off. I hope they caught the person who did it. I don’t know if they did…

It’s funny, but I can’t remember what made me think about you today.Just a little something in passing, I guess. I am going out next week, it’s my best friend’s birthday. You would have liked her. Correction, you would have LOVED her. It will be the first time I have gone out since I had Bub. I believe there will have to be the obligatory Bat and a Ball in your honor. She knows all about them too.

It’s the least I can do for the man who taught me everything I know…love you.

He asks me EVERY. DAY. if it’s “next day” that he will be going to school. And every day I have to break his heart by telling him that it isn’t time yet. He is so cute. And so ready to go to big boy school…just like his bubba.

I can’t help but feel a little sorry for myself. I’ve been home with him for most of his life. He’s my little pal, my helper. We snuggle all the times. Well, maybe not quite so much now that he is a big boy, but still. Where does the time go? I’m pretty sure I just brought him home from the hospital last week. Next thing you know he will be leaving for college!

Gah. At least I still have Bub around to distract me. He won’t be leaving me to go to school any time soon. At least I don’t think he will…but you never know with kids.

Turns out I was spending too much time on Facebook and that I still have PLENTY to talk about. And I do mean plenty. I may not actually be able to write about all the things that are going on because I am convinced that one day my parents are going to stumble across my blog and quite possibly be horrified, but there are words inside of my head that need to find their way out. And soon. Or there are gonna be all sorts of issues up in here.

That having been said, I felt so good last night after writing an update. And then catching up on some blog reading. I still have lots more to catch up on, and comments to leave. I laughed, I cried, and then cried some more. It was awesome. I realized how much I missed all of you, my bloggy friends. How disconnected I had become. I didn’t like it. I don’t like it. I enjoy being able to come to my site and write about my life. I enjoy reading about yours. So bear with me. I’m working on it.