Blame this post on Twitter. Sad turns to mad, which turns to action.

NCIS is one of my favorite shows, even though I'm super behind in the series. The story lines are usually great, the cast is superb, and can Gibbs and DiNozzo get any sexier? I think not. But really, Abby is the reason I watch. It is so refreshing and inspiring to see a strong female character breaking barriers. Abby is smart, stubborn, fiercely loving and lovable, and loyal to a fault. She's real. I just love her to pieces. AND, thanks to the interwebs and the twitter, I am able to learn more about the actress that plays her, Pauley Perrette.

Pauley has been all over twitter this morning sharing facts about stalking, as she has a stalker who has been harassing (for lack of a better word) her to the point where she is ready to leave the country. And due to stalking laws, not much can be done. Pauley relies on her faith, her fiance, and her strength to get her through. Insanely admirable.

I cannot fathom what it is like to attempt to sleep at night knowing you are the object of someone's obsession. I mean, I've been through some crap in my short life, stuff that I tend to relive, but they were isolated incidents that screwed me up some. Being in a situation that is constant, whether it be stalking, domestic violence, sexual harassment, etc. - my mind, heart, and stomach hurt for them. Living through an isolated incident - you have the choice whether to be a victim or to survive. A lingering situation does not give you that freedom.

Today is International Women's Day. Learn something today. Educate someone else. Hug your daughters and your sisters and your mothers. Teach your daughters and your nieces to be strong, vibrant, independent women who know their self-worth.

This seems a little scattered, and I must say that I do not claim that only women deal with these situations - I know better - but I just needed to say something, as my life has changed a little bit this morning. All because of the twitter.

I really need to find my funny again.

She should have stabbed me. It would have hurt less.

Today, oh today... you had such promise. I got up early to shower and make 30 lbs of sloppy joes for a fundraiser - I planned to load up the car, go feed some soldiers, load everything back up, unpack, clean the area-formerly-known-as-a-kitchen-but-looks-like-a-bomb-range, get the kiddo down for a nap, and relax until big kid gets off the bus.

HOWEVER.

Today, for the most part went well.  We made $300, to my surprise - I didn't think we had served that many - all my volunteers PLUS some showed up (YAY AND I LOVE YOU!), and Quinn did really well. I even saw a few people I knew, and got to know some of the spouses better, which was great. Until.

Until this beast of a woman, upon seeing Quinn, asks him "What's your disability?" Being thoroughly confused, I said "He has none." To which she replied, "Oh, well, he looks just like my cousin who has Down's Syndrome."

Do not misread me. Had I a child with any sort of disability, I would love that child with everything I am, just like I do The Preteen and Captain Awesome. In fact, as you all know, I have concerns that Quinners might fall on the autism spectrum and am in the works to get him evaluated.  This is not so I can take him back and get a new kid. It is so I can get him all the services he needs and deserves.

That being said, the words she spoke to me, so matter-of-factly, cut me so deeply that I can't really even explain. I have no idea who this woman was, but she totally owned me and my feelings with a few words. I don't even know what I said to her. I think it might have been "Oh." What do you say to that? If I didn't have my hands full of 2.5 year old, my hands might have subconsciously went to her throat.

I am having a hard time identifying the emotions that are coursing through me because of a SENTENCE. I'm not exactly mad, not exactly sad, just upset and hurt.

My little boy is fucking awesome, and disability or no, he has my heart in his little hand. I have always said I would walk through fire for my children, and I couldn't even respond to this woman. But looking back, I'm not sure I needed to.

My heart just feels broken. I think I need to go snuggle my Quinners. Talk to you tomorrow.

Oh, Internet... Quit making me be so serious.

You know, we all are flawed people.  There is no such thing as a perfect human being; we may have been made in His image, but He also granted us free will, therein allowing us to screw up all over the place.  Learn something, humans!  Yeah, about that...

I can pinpoint the minute my self-esteem took a nose-dive. I was in fifth grade. My Violet is in the fifth grade. Don't think I don't stare at that pink elephant every day. I do. And I'm trying my damnedest to make sure that that girl knows her self-worth.  Luckily for her, being a member of this society, she is thin, and absolutely beautiful. I was chubby with bad hair, not great clothes, and I was the new kid at school. May I remind you that Kelly rhymes with jelly and belly? Hence, the little masons inside started bricking up those walls at lightening speed, starting at age TEN.

I look at photos of myself at age 17 and wonder why I hated myself so much. I look at me now, and my flaws and imperfections - they're ME.  This body has walked an unknown number of miles, brought life into this world, danced, ran through sprinklers, felt the power of a horse beneath it - how quick we are to call babies miracles, yet forget that we are walking ones ourselves?

Learning to find the beauty in ourselves for those of us who truly don't believe the compliments we've been/are given is a daunting task - like trying to climb up an icy hill with high heels on.  Over the past few days, at the age of 35, I've realized the skies are finally parting for me and I'm finally starting to get it.  Starting to truly understand that I am a person who deserves to be happy and to be proud of herself and to not get all Stuart Smalley on y'all, but dammit, I am good people.  I have an amazing family who raised me right, yet despite that, in my 20s, I got dealt a pile of shit. But now? I am going to slam these bones down and yell, "DOMINO, MOTHERFUCKER!", because for the first time in my life, I feel how I've wanted to feel for years - strong, determined, loved, able, and willing - not meek, tattered, and broken. These demons will be exorcised.

I think I just had a Towanda moment.  I am in need of a viking helmet.

Let's Do The Time Warp Againnnnnnnn...

I've always thought it interesting that one time span can simultaneously go by super fast and excruciatingly slow.  Today, five years ago, I married my Hubs.  It was a crazy week that included "yes, you're getting married", "no, you're not getting married", "you're deploying on Friday.  No, Tuesday.  No, Thursday.  No, Friday.  Friday.  Promise."  And then it ended up being Saturday.  Anyone you know get married on a Thursday?  Now you do.  Me.

You see, Hubs and I decided to tie the knot pre-deployment rather than post because Violet was going to be staying with me.  By myself.  With a just-turned-six year old.  Not only was my love headed to a war zone, I had to figure out how to be a single parent, and figure it out now.  She had been staying with us a whole three weeks at this point.  We were in a routine.  We meaning the three of us.  Now shit was going to change.  Single parent. Single disciplinarian. Feeling like I didn't know my ass from my elbow.  And I didn't.  But we made it up as we went along, waiting not-so-patiently for calls from Daddy.  Those calls and webcam chats were so special - she got time with her dad, and I got some reassurance that he was okay and that he thought I wasn't screwing up his kid.

The last five years have been full of laughter and tears and worries and heartache, moving and meeting people and saying goodbye, finding where the commissary and PX and Walmart and Target and Starbucks are, looking for jobs, having a baby, being a stay-at-home mom, volunteering, being homesick, enjoying new adventures, finding myself and losing myself and finding myself again, being insanely proud of my Soldier and becoming even more of a patriot.  There have been times I've questioned choosing this life, but no matter how hard and stressful and less-than-perfect it may be, I know in my heart I am where I am supposed to be.

I love you, Hubs.  It's been a crazy ride.  I can't wait to see what is around the next corner for us.

Happy One Year Closer To Being A Teenager, Dear Daughter...

Yep, today is The Preteen's birthday.  She's 11.  She scored Just Dance Wii games, an iPod shuffle, some DS games, and some other random stuff, and that was just from us.  Hopefully the stuff from her mom comes on time, (read: TODAY), but I'm not going to hold my breath.  Not because I'm bitter towards her, she's just never on time.  Ever.  But that's not what this post is about.  Violet's currently eating a breakfast of cinnamon toast crunch and brownies.  I thought maybe she'd request waffles when I asked her what she wanted, but nope - cereal and brownies.  A child after my own heart.  She also requested a little Storage Wars before the bus gets here.  How can I say no?

As much crap as I give her (and she gives me), I cut my parenting teeth on her, and I can only hope she's not too scarred from it.  She has been a trooper over the past five years and change, as I have played the game of trial and error with her.  There have been loads of tears as well as laughter, lots of second-guessing on my part, trying my best to not take her mom's place yet raise her as though she were my own.  It's been incredibly hard, incredibly joyful, has made me consider divorce more times than I'd like to admit, and has been beyond satisfying in so many regards.  I love her to the moon and back, and I can only hope one day that she realizes that all I've done has been for her benefit; that all the times she got her way and didn't were because I love her.  That, and I don't want her to be a spoiled brat.

Happy Birthday, Violet.  I love you, punkin butt.

Mom Jitters.

I hate the internet sometimes.  Even though it's brought me some of my closest friends, it also makes me obsess like nobody's business.

Enter diagnostic tools that you can do yourself.  I'm not talking about WebMD - because we all know WebMD thinks everyone and their mother is dying - but things like the M-CHAT, which stands for Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers.  It's a list of 23 questions, and if your answers coincide with three or more, it suggests your child is at risk for being autistic.  Captain Awesome hit four.

Now, I know, I know... just shut up and quit worrying, but it makes my stomach hurt.  I've been wondering about this for a while, actually.  And not that it makes a difference, it's just, aw hell.  I just needed to tell someone.

Thanks for the ear.  I hope everyone has a great weekend, whether you're footballin' it up or just planning on shoving food down your face.  xoxoxo!

State Testing Mini Rant That Will Probably Turn Into A Maxi Rant, But Not A Maxi Pad, Just To Be Clear...

OKAY.  This effing state testing thing is just for the danged birds.  Today, The Preteen has the writing portion of the test, and she is freaking out BECAUSE, if they score a 5 or a 6, they've been promised a party.  Okay, I'm all about having a party, but can you wait until after shit is over with to celebrate instead of putting pressure on the kids to perform?  They actually FILMED A SCHOOL COMMERCIAL to play before the test this morning on how to relax and "YOU CAN DO IT!" and shit.  I'm just kind of flabbergasted about the whole deal.

Now, state testing is nothing new to this family - in second grade, her teacher told the class that they "had to do really really good or the school wouldn't get any money from the state."  Are you KIDDING me?

This teaching to the test thing is repulsive.  So is requiring Kindergarteners to be able to tie their shoes, know the alphabet, and be able to count to infinity before enrollment.  I could read before Kindergarten, but that's because Sesame Street was my babysitter.  I just think it's bullshit that preschool is becoming a prerequisite rather than an option.  We probably will do a year of preschool, just to ensure that I'm not raising a feral child (sometimes I wonder), but I just don't think it's NECESSARY.  Kindergarten is supposed to be about ABCs, 123s, paint smocks, snacks, and naps.  Fifth grade is about learning how to be a complete snot to your parents, insisting they're stupid, and doing math that your parents didn't do until college.

Ugh.  This was a rambly mess, but geezopete... It kind of makes me want to homeschool.  But then I'd never get to do THEBUSISHERE!!!!!!!!!!! happy dance.  And I live for that moment, yo.

The First Amendment Rocks My Face Off.

Fuck censorship.  Even if I don't agree with what you say, you have the goddamned right to say it in my country.

Do something today - call a congressperson, sign an online petition, be heard.

That is all.

I need my mom to make me grilled cheese and tomato soup.

I don't feel good.  In fact, I'm going to the doctor, which I usually don't do unless I have to, and sometimes not even then.  I was due for a certain appointment in September.  Whoops.

What annoys me and I appreciate at the same time, is my doctor's office now does this thing where you call the scheduler (who is generally stupid), you give them your malady(ies) in a nutshell, they pass it on to the staff nurse, who then calls you and basically triages you over the phone, and then determines when you can come in.  I've been given the first available appointment tomorrow.  I'm tired of constantly being fatigued, going through the motions, achy, bitchy, anxious, oh okay, FINE, I'll admit it - depressed.  And a couple of other things that don't need to be mentioned.  I've had a fever for three days.  I never feel "good", I just deal.  And I'm tired of it.

I need more energy to be a better mom, to be a better me.  I don't want to work out, I don't want to wash clothes, or really do much of anything that doesn't require my ass to be in the recliner.  Which makes me feel incredibly lazy, but I'm not lazy.  It's weird and kind of hard to explain.

Ever feel like you want something to show up in bloodwork just so you can go, "Oh!!  That's it!" but not want anything to show up at the same time?  Yeah.

Back tomorrow, friends.

For once, I have nothing to say.

I had planned a post about the mental meltdown I suffered during my son's first haircut yesterday, but the funny has vanished today after receiving some sobering news.  All is well, never fear - I just think today is a day for reflection and for once, not trying to look for the funny in it.

As soon as I sort things out in the ol' noggin, I'll be back in full force.  Besides, it's a holiday week, so there will be fodder galore - of that, I am certain.