Now you know how I hate to complain
a) Most of the time I feel pretty fortunate and grateful
2) because it is WAAAYYYY more fun for me to complain about other people.
But seriously, 2012? YOU ARE A STONE BITCH.
Of course I have to blame a little of it on 2011, right about Christmas time.
See, for MONTHS before Christmas my mother and I had discussed a Kindle Touch. She was going to get me one for Christmas, and I asked her at least 10-15 times if she was positive that's what she was giving me - normally I wouldn't have even known or cared what I was getting but my friend was going to get me a nice case for the Kindle Touch so I wanted to be abso-positive fersure and certain.
She said YES, YES, YES.
What happened was my dad had made a mistake and bought one Touch and one with a keyboard.
Now, if you know me at all (and some of you really really do), you know I do not care about gifts. I'm just as slap-happy with a card, especially a homemade one - and I prefer cards to gifts (although HEY GIFTS ARE NICE TOO, don't get me wrong).
Okay, so we have a Kindle Touch and a Kindle Keyboard.
Christmas day, guess what? My mom had given the Touch TO MY SISTER.
I tried not to care and just be thankful to have a kindle, but my mind was boggled. It just seemed like a big fat slap in the face.
ANYWAY ANYWAY. I shouldn't care about material possessions and let it go.
Next, I had to ... take a break (WE WERE ON A BREAK!) from some good friends and a situation that got way too intense and blew out of control. That's a story that won't be posted on this blog, but suffice it to say it was one of those deals where everyone thinks they're right and no-one thinks they're wrong and everyone's feelings are wounded and no-one was feeling forgiving.
Okay, so maybe I was responsible for a large part of it.
I'm still in recovery.
Then a very sweet man I've known (from my church) since I was about 12 years old passed away. He greeted me at the door with a giant bearhug and a smile and "I've missed seeing you!" every time I stepped through the door. He was lovely and I miss him.
I've been saving my pennies (and quarters, dimes and dollars) since last year so I could go to BlogHer in New York City this year (which would have also been my very first trip to the Big Apple!)...and then a couple of weeks ago my boss announces that she's planning to close her business at the end of this year. And me being ME, I can't possibly justify spending the money I've saved, gallivanting around NYC, because what if I have trouble finding another job? How will I feed and house and care for my family if it takes awhile to generate some income? So unless some miracle happens and/or I win the lottery, NYC will just have to wait to experience me. Probably NYC is grateful for the reprieve.
All I can say is thank God I hadn't bought my airline ticket yet.
Now my great-aunt is in the hospital with cancer of the lungs and the liver. I don't expect that she'll be with us much longer. That makes me sad.
Seriously I think I've cried more in the last 3 months than I have in total for the last 3 years.
I know these are all just bumps (or craters) in the road, typical ups & downs.
I already feel bad and somewhat ungrateful for complaining about them. I could probably have handled one or two situations pretty well, but all of this in three months...well, I'm not feeling like I should change my name to Job yet but I feel like I'm his first cousin.
Probably the worst (and best) part is that my kids turned 17. I can honestly say without feeling like a sap that every single day is a blessing and a miracle, because most of you know that my micro-preemies weren't expected to survive even infancy.
So I've been gifted a wonderful, scary, heartbreaking, terrifying, miraculous 17 whole years (and counting!)
The thing is, the mortality rate for kids with high degrees of mental retardation and cerebral palsy - like my son - is HIGH. He most probably won't make it into adulthood.
So I wake most mornings feeling like Damocles with a sword poised above my head.
I hesitate every morning before I walk into his room, and try to hear him breathing before I go in.
I'm afraid, right down to my bones.
I am not looking for sympathy or pep talks or pity, and I'm not nearly arrogant enough to think that I'm the only one who's had a lot of...not great things happen in a very short time.
I just needed to talk it out and get a handle on things.
So, how's everything going for you? Tell me something good.