Yesterday all three of my kids, with the exception of my "other daughter" Amber, were sick at the doctor's office.
This is the run down:
Emerald just has allergies and needs to actually take the allergy medicine we get for her that she never takes.
Isabela has strep throat and, in lieu of ten days of medicine, we opted for a "one and done" shot. So instead of missing about a week she will miss one more day, today, and be free to go back tomorrow.
Maxwell has a very scratchy throat but did not test positive for strep, so me may have the aaaaabsolute beginnings of strep. High fever, crankiness, and a general sense of batshit freakout panic mode.
So today Emerald is at school and mommy is at work. That leaves me with my two youngest for the day, which isn't that bad. The shot Bela got yesterday has turned her intense throat pains into nothing more than a raspy college party girl voice. Maxwell woke up early straight freaking out but after some water and some fever medicine he was right as rain.
Anyway, Bela doesn't want to watch anything and I can't for the life of me get my son to stand still to watch ANYTHING, so we've been outside for a while. Usually I don't dig the heat being this hot, a far cry from my Arizona days, but Oklahoma has this face slapping humidity that Arizona is lacking. I've probably said this before but I would gladly do an Arizona 111-degree day before doing an Okie 91-degree day.
It's a pretty day, despite the heat. Maxwell and Isabela are playing in the front yard. I'm drinking coffee and typing in the shade while watching the wind pick up pieces of random nature from the forest next to our house (Random Nature: small twigs, pieces of dandelions, leaves, ect.) and gently toss them around the air like a miniature snowstorm of heat.
I'm also rocking some pretty depressing tunes ...
Things are rough for me right now.
Aaaaaand I honestly don't think that I can elaborate any further.
Here, let me tread lightly and tell you guys a story ...
All my life I have had a problem with telling the truth. As a young child I just could not comprehend the fact that there were things that, although true, I could not and should not share with other people.
EXAMPLES: There was a close family friend that we all thought looked like a monster, so one day, and I must have been seven or eight years old, I told him that and it brought extreme tension and drama to the family. I didn't get how what I did was bad since it was the truth. Then, in eight grade, I had a girlfriend that my parents hated, so I told her that and it basically ruined our relationship as well as the lifelong friendship that our parents once had for each other.
I just had the hardest time understanding how there were things my parents and family said that I couldn't turn around and share with everyone. I couldn't comprehend that. If it was the truth, then why should I hide it from people?
And now, look at me, I am a 37 year old with his own religion who hopes to WOOD that the kids don't go around trying to explain that to all these white bread christian midwest freaking yuppies. I am at the exact spot where my parents once were.
I am my parents. Gawd, how crazy is that?
Anyway, this part of me that always thirsted for absolute truth went NUTS when I first heard about blogs. I had just come off of a nasty realtionship and I thought that having a place where I could be 100% honest would help me feel better. That was in 2002 and that was a looooooong time ago.
My blog, like the old hideous monster once known as Madonna, has evolved into a lot of different things since 2002, like a place to watch free movies, a place to share free music, a place where I can deal with my PTSD, a place to share funny pictures, a place where I can deal with cutting and bipolar disorder, a place to vent about problems at work, a place for my own strange pet projects, and, the most popular variation of my blog by far, a place to stare at boobs.
But, regardless of what form my blog may take, it's always been a brutally honest blog, an unflinching and sometimes childish and sometimes depressing and sometimes extremely honest look into my own brain. This blog IS my life. It is a direct representation of myself, of who I am and what I like and who I want to be.
That is why it deeply infuriates me that, for a little over a decade now, there has been a MAJOR part of my life that I absolutely CANNOT write about on this blog.
Last night I probably came the closest I've ever come to just becoming that little kid again and just telling everyone absolutely everything.
I didn't, of course.
But one day I'm afraid I will.
Look. Just keep me in your thoughts or pray or whatever it is you do. Do that. Do that for me, okay?
Wish me luck.