Always returnable, never a wait in line or a hassle at the counter.
No rude salesclerks or paperwork to fill out.
So this is the time of year when people typically post their favorite posts of the previous year (well, clearly I like ALL my posts or else I would not publish them, DOY) or they post their
2010 was not an incredible year for me. I mean, it was okay, but mostly not. There seemed to be twice as many life-bumps as usual, including but not limited to:
2 days before I was to leave for BlogHer AND my first ever trip to NYC... the transmission went out on my car
Which led to me not getting to go to BlogHer
AND having a non-refundable airline ticket, so, you know, money down the toilet
AND not getting to see any of my online friends in person this year at all
So no car, no trip, no friends. No money. No fun. Boo.
Then I borrowed my stepmom's truck...and squirrels ATE THE WIRES.
AND I got a 3/4 inch splinter straight up through the ball of my foot.
Plus of course the everyday stress of raising a couple of teenagers by myself and working all the time and dealing with disabilities and changing diapers and and and ...
None of these things are hugely tragic, just stressful, disappointing, and...well, painful.
So I'm glad they're behind me. I hate to complain, but srsly I was nearly at the I CANNOT HANDLE ONE SINGLE OTHER THING point.
But see, there are these people....
You know, as much as I despise people in general, it is apparent that in regard to bosom pals (heehee, I said bosom) I have chosen most wisely. In fact, when it comes to friends, I can state willingly, honestly, emphatically that I Have The Best Ones.
They persist in liking me despite my best efforts. Clearly they're somewhat insane.
Oh sure sure, I'm sure you think your friends are better, but they're really not. Sorry.
See, a few weeks ago I wrote this post about the iPad and finding some apps for kids with disabilities - and the thought of being able to actually COMMUNICATE with my son after 15 years of guesswork.
I mean, it's disheartening at times, not knowing what to do for him, not knowing if he's hungry or tired, if his head hurts or he's just thirsty or wants attention... for kids with cerebral palsy and mental retardation a lot of the childraising is just making it up as you go along and hoping for the best. It's hoping that he understands when I say "I love you", even though I know I'll never get to hear him say it back. It's wonderful and terrible and terrifying and humbling and heart-breaking.
My friends read the post and understood.
And for Christmas, they bought my son and me an iPad and gift cards to buy an app that will allow my son to TELL ME WHAT HE NEEDS.
If you're saying UNBELIEVABLE! to yourself right now, that's exactly what I said when I opened the box. Right before I sat down and put my head on my desk and cried like a little girl.
You may not understand how incredibly HUGE this is, for both myself and my boy, but that's okay. *I* know. And there have not been big enough, good enough, words invented yet to convey how thankful and appreciative I am.
All I can say is thank you, thank you so very much, with the whole of my heart.
And? I love you back.
This post dedicated to:
The Friday Night Live Gang