10 Things They Do Not Tell You About Having a Gastric Sleeve.

10 Things They Do Not Tell You About Having a Gastric Sleeve.

If you haven’t noticed yet. My blog can go from being rather sweet-oh-so-lovey-dovey  to rather crass & vulgar depending on topic and my mood.  Really isn’t that life? Nothing ever stays in those Hallmark picture perfect moments no matter how hard we try.   This post my friend is a lot bit of TMI…so sorry, but I just wished someone had told me.

Prior to surgery, I’d taken 4 classes, at least 4 or so pre-op apts.  Now mind you, I am no armature to surgeries or hospitalization. For Pete’s Sake, I’ve spent most of my life in and out of them. Either for myself or my children or as an employee. I know how to advocate, and  I know how easily things can go wrong. For the most part. My attitude is. “I got this.” Well, really that’s my attitude about most things.

Jesus Christ On A Crutch!  Even I was not prepared!!!

1. This hurts worse then a c-section,  pacemaker, labor, pleurisy, pulmonary embolisms, torn ligaments, and having your toe nail ripped off. I really was expecting to bounce back in 2 days like nothing happened. I wish I remembered my open heart surgery, but I am glad I don’t.  Either way. Brace yourself!

2. They said I would be moody because of rapid weight loss. Ok… I get that.  I’m not fucking moody because of weight loss. I am fucking mood because I can’t do anything that makes me happy! I really I want to dance, go to the gym, I want to be with my family & friend. I am sick of this house. I’m sick of sitting still. I can’t have coffee. I’m pissed that I can’t do things for my self. This surgery has made me petulant.  Nothing is going my way!I  There I said it. I’ve turned into a ill-tempered  bratty child.

3. Farts hurts. Burps hurt. Laughing hurts. Not in a stubbed toe kinda hurt, like knife stabbing & someone twisting  in your guts kind of hurt.

4. Laying on your back for several weeks… sucks. I miss sleeping on my side & stomach

5. I never thought I would feel so,  ”meh” about food.  Perhaps it’s because I am still healing, but I just don’t feel like eating. It still hurts to eat.  I just don’t enjoy it.

6. Obviously from my previous post. Standing up too quickly you can rip parts of your abdomen. Crap that hurt!

7. Your pillow will become your best friend. Carrying around a pillow like a baby carries around a blanket. It is not only very comforting, but the pressure helps with the pain.

8. Taking a shit is the worse thing EVER. I feel like I going into labor through my ass.   Between being dehydrated, pain meds, not drinking enough, not eating enough, not moving around as much all adds to constipation, and not enough food to sustain energy. Hold onto that pillow. Because it takes FOREVER.  Deep breaths and don’t let yourself pass out.  It takes awhile for your body to get back to “normal.” And after 30mins or more for one lil’ rabbit turd, you will feel like the life was sucked out of you.

9.Old lady farts.  WTF!  I went from  being barely gassy to passing wind all the time.  *shakes head*  This is probably the most embarrassing part.  I need to start wearing long skirts like my Nana, and just shake my skirt out from time to time like I was dusting the floors.

10. Sex.  UGHHH Not having sex for 4 weeks was awful. I know that might not bother some people. But for me it did.  And when we did start having sex, obviously we had to be super gentle and we had to stop because the orgasms hurt my abdomen.  Which left me with what I call “blue ovaries.” Which only added to being grumpy.

All joking aside.. I am  7 weeks post op and feeling wonderful. I just wasn’t feeling so wonderful during those weeks right after surgery. Good luck on anyone else who is on their way under the knife.



Post to Twitter

4 Months of Public School & That’s All We Could Take.

4 Months of Public School & That’s All We Could Take.

gabe_biologyWe spent a lot of our summer testing & stressing for  public school. They asked, so I thought well my boys are doing SOOOO WELL. They can do this. I mean millions of other children survive public school.  Of course I feared it.  I figured, what the hell. If it doesn’t work. I will pull them out. I wanted them to do more then just well. I wanted them to love it. I didn’t want to be right. I prayed like hell that I would be wrong.  Yeh… that didn’t happen.

It started with bullying. I knew that would happen.  If you have read my awful parenting advice, I have taught my kids to fight back  and to take a stand.  So when Gabe was getting picked on. His response was. “Mom, I think the boy has Aspergers too. He is different once he takes his meds. I think he just doesn’t know how to make friends.”  Sooooo sweet right? I’m a special needs mom… it hit me, I can’t be angry at a kid who doesn’t get it. I mean Gabriel is down right terrible when he has a meltdown. Ok.. so I cool down. I did go to school. I did start crying. Not because someone hurt Gabe, but because I feared that Gabriel wasn’t going to be able to keep it together. He’s worked so hard with all his therapy to have a  some 4th grader make him unravel.  And you know what happened? Gabe did.  By December I was seeing that side of Gabe I hadn’t seen in a long time. I mean yeh I’d see this behavior  but it wasn’t daily.. maybe once a month and now we were dealing with this daily.He was spitting in my face, biting , punching ,  and kicking me , punching the dogs, tormenting his brother, head bunting us.  Gabe’s no longer a toddler. He can not wale on the world like this. That is no place I want for my child.   Of course Gabe eventually punched the boy or laughing at him. Gabe got in trouble, and when I asked the principle if he knew this was the same kids that picking. Of course he knew nothing of it, despite just weeks before I was in his office crying my eyes out about my concerns for Gabe.

I don’t blame the bullying…. It was just one example of assorted problems. We had issues with teacher assistants and how they spoke to Gabe that set him off at home. Now add in ALL the sensory issues like the loud cafeteria, buzzing lights, or expressions & indiums  that he doesn’t understand and no one taking the time to explain them.  His world soon became a rather confusing one. Then he found himself for getting in trouble for making connections that no one saw. Very Aspie thing to do.  For example they would work on Volcanos and he wanted to talk about Pompae.  Or they would talk about math and he wanted to talk about the function black holes.  As a teacher, he is being disruptive, I kind of get it. But I don’t really. One would think, a teacher would think, “Dang I’m glad he made that connection.”  So because he wasn’t making the organized line of connections that was planned out on the worksheet he found himself making a lot of mistakes. His answered weren’t wrong per-say.. but they weren’t the ones they wanted him to know. He would come home crying that he was stupid because he didn’t understand “this” or “that” or  crazy, dumb, lazy, or retarded.

As for Zeke this was more upsetting. It’s odd. Zeke tends to be more classically “Autistic” but functionally he does better then Gabe.  Gabe is the gregarious one were Zeke is the one that retreats. Well for Zeke it started with much upset because we were “changing.”  After meeting his teacher he was excited. Zeke soon started having issues with muscle spasm. This is not new. We’ve been dealing with this at home for years. We’ve been testing him, but we have no idea the cause of it yet.   Zeke was having spasms in gym, he didn’t participate  and  he got in trouble. He got in trouble for sitting on the grass, and he didn’t understand. He got in trouble for spinning, this is one he stems. On and on.. Zeke was getting trouble for basic Aspie stuff. To which they all knew. I had given them plenty of information on the boys. It was very upsetting. Well every morning was a little harder. Zeke started not eating at school then not at home. Then throwing up in the morning. At first I thought he was sick. But after a few days I realized. Holy Shit!  It’s anxiety.  Zeke stopped looking at us as often, he wasn’t talking to us but rather lots and lots of screaming.   There was bullying. But like Gabe that isn’t the whole problem. Zeke is back to not eating in general so weight loss has been an concern.

As their  mom, I wanted to go She-Haulk and turned the school inside out for upsetting and in my eyes hurting my boys.  How dare they squash on any of their  light? It’s not that they were upset, it was my boys were regressing.  This is something I just can not allow to happen on my watch.  Between raising their medication twice in 2months after years of not touching, IEPs meeting that I felt weren’t meeting their sensory needs, impatient teacher aides, and the bullying. I am just not patient enough to allow my children to a part of that system and that culture.   Honestly, I just don’t agree with the system.

I tend to believe, that one of the greatest sin, is the sin of omission.  Just because you are not doing the wrong thing, doesn’t mean you are doing the right thing either.    If it was one child, I’d be a little more patient. The problems my boys had, had nothing to do with them or the fact that they have Aspergers. They weren’t singled out. If anything, they thought they were doing their best. I knew this in my gut 4yrs ago that public school wasn’t for my kids.  Today I am convinced, that what my children felt and went through is only a symptom on a systematic problem.  I am not sure if the break down comes  from: the ideology that testing is the means of educations, or that the environment is not a calm as it could be, or that the teaches are out numbered. .  But I do know… it’s not natural. Kids aren’t encourage to really explore their interests and a meaningful way.  One because the sheer volume of students to teacher ratio. And two,  to allow a child to question any subjection throughly, you have to let go of structure. You have to let their mind flow and question and let them find the answer as the arise.  It takes longer but there is a wholesome understanding rather then facts-based so that you pass your next test.

Over Christmas Break. I pulled the boys out. The first week was rough, I had surgery and was in the hospital for 3 days. I am still on the mend. However, it’s been so calm. My boys are returning to my sweet boys again. Yes they are hyper little monkey-boys that they are. The fighting has waned. Every day Gabe is coping a little bit better and is a little bit more helpful. Zeke is eating more and looking at us more and more.  How I missed THIS.  I’ve missed my happy aspie children.

Today, I started putting together the boys binders. This is a child who has seen a lot therapy. Gabe looks at me and says as we organize his stuff. “Now mom, can you make me a visual chart so I can check off the work I do each day. I know I I have work to do every day. And I know you will want me to work on my own. But it’s confusing without charts to keep me on track”



Post to Twitter

Holy Mother of God am I STUPID!

Holy Mother of God am I STUPID!

Bunny_facepalm_by_shlj23-d4s3yajToday was the first day that I felt truly awesome post-op. I am 9 days out having my gastric sleeve. Who  has to go and do and do the stupidest thing there is to do? This girl!  I have been hating this damned bedroom. I can’t stand sitting still. I want to go dancing. I want to go to the beach. I miss my friends. Hell I miss having a clean house. SO of course, I feel great and I start catching up on cleaning & a make my kids breakfast for the first time in a week. I am happy to be somewhat normal human mommy this morning. I rest of a bit. Sitting on the recliner. Working on my next blog. Not this one… because well, this was just too stupid I had to post this one first.   So I hop out of my chair like I got  boosters in my ass and I didn’t have surgery,  and then… POP.  Oh MY GAWD! Literally my abdomen went pop. That fucking hurt!!! The last time I felt that much pain was when I tore a ligament in my elbow when  I was 18.  I mean giving birth didn’t even hurt like that.  I’ve had dozens of surgeries, pleurisy, pulmonary embolisms, c-sections…. yeh they hurt, but they didn’t make me cry.  I’m kinda proud that I’m fairly tough.  But GEEZZZUUSSS  Christ on a Crutch this really hurts!  I  cried like a baby! Yeh, cause I think I’m Super Fucking Woman all the damn time.  I didn’t even ask Ian for help, and he was only 3 feet away!   I call the doctors because I think popped a stiches. No. They inform me that I am not the only idiot. That  I  most likely ripped my muscle in the area that they just cut through when they too my stomach out. It happens all the time. People get excited that they feel better. They lecture me about taking it easy for 3 weeks. That I had major abdominal surgery. If it gets worse to go to the ER. I’m not sure if it’s comforting or not that I am not the only village idiot that rips their abdomen right after surgery. Being with me must being annoying sometimes. I really do pitty Ian and my significant others having to deal with my bloody-minded ways.

Post to Twitter

My Gastric Sleeve Awakening the the Amazon in Me. Look Out!

My Gastric Sleeve Awakening the the Amazon in Me. Look Out!

amazonwomanWell I am doing this post bass-ackwards, because this is what I do. It takes me awhile to process all my thoughts and emotions sometimes.  Over the summer I decided to have the gastric sleeve. Well honestly I have been thinking about this for the past 12 years  now, but  one day, I was just sick of it. ALL OF IT.

I’ve struggled with my weight most of my adult life for one reason or another.  A lot has to do with my health: VSD, pacemaker, CHF, hashimoto’s, factor V, pulmonary embolism..blah-blah- booo-fucking-hooo… And I was sick and tired, feeling so sick and tired.  I really was born with the short end of the gene pool. I know this. I can’t control any of it.  Most days I can let it roll of me, like a duck  feathers.  But there are somedays I am down right homicidal. There is nothing but rage.  Yeh I know I am so damn happy all the time.. I hide my shit well. But really like all of us, I am pissed at the world for no other reason, then to be pissed.  Everything hits me all at once, I feel every bad event, every heart break ever had, every stupid disappoint and I am just utterly angry.   I can’t even ask questions, like why me.. because there are no answers to that other then, life just fucking sucks Zoila,  you have no choice, fucking deal with it.   (before you go offer your sympathy.. don’t… it doesn’t do you or myself any good)   It eventually passes, luckily  those moments are fleeting.  When I was a teenager.. well I didn’t have such self control. Another story for another time.

So one day that I was feeling particularly rageful. I decided to take control and strop pissing & moaning to myself. I decided, what the hell. I am going to call the weight loss center. What could hurt, right? Best decision EVER!  I spent my summer & fall going to classes:  pre-op classes, healthy-eating classes, and exercising classes.  Granted I have tried many many many diets before.  I do like the gym and being active.  But there was something different about this. It wasn’t just the surgery aspect. I never ever addressed my emotional eating.  I never was  fully  aware of it how bad the problem was. I never thought of myself as truly one of “those” emotional eaters.  I never thought of food as an addiction.  I half-heartly joked about it from time to time, but I didn’t think that was “my” problem.  You know what? It most certainly was. I can only blame my congenial disorders but so much. They are only but part of the problem.  The truth of the matter is, I really love to eat.  I love to eat when: I am happy, when I am sad, when I am with my family, when I’m anxious, when I’m angry, to celebrate, to mourn,  after I have sex, and any other emotion or lack there of in between.  Food is sooo utterly  sensual & comforting  to me. Not only am I in love with eating. I love to cook! Good grief, no wonder I have struggled for so long!

Up until surgery, I hadn’t much support from my family. Well it isn’t that they didn’t want me to loose weight. It’s that I’ve had lots of surgeries in my life, and quite frankly I scare the hell out of them.  I wish I had the self control needed to loose 170lbs.  Where I was at, everything was becoming so uncomfortable. I felt like I had no more options.  The weight was causing my already health problems to worsen. I never thought walking would become an issue for me. But here I was 32, chest hurting just by walking.  In my mind, this was no difference in the gastric sleeve and  needing a new pacemaker.  It has to be done. “Do or die Bitch!” This is the one and only thing I can control and this is what I am do. I am going to save me from me. I am going to be my own hero this time.  Having this surgery is too much of a sacrifice to EVER get back to 320lbs again.  Surgery day comes and goes.  It just so happens on Dec. 23rd 2013.  I miss Christmas morning with children.  It isn’t ideal, but you know, that’s how life is sometimes.   I do eventually come home Christmas day.

Post Surgery, I visit my family for what I like to call 2nd Christmas. I am obviously sore, but ever so delighted to see my family and they are to see me.  I get questions about what I can and can not eat.  Now mind you, our family LOVES to eat to.  I tell them  I’m not eating “this” or “that” again.  As I am talking to them, they are pushing food.  The very ones who wanted to help me loose weight, but not very supportive of the surgery in the first place.  Now,I’m not angry. It really makes me think on how we were raised.  We were raised to express our love through food.  My god do we LOOOVVEEE each other.  MY GOD DO WE LOVE FOOD! I’ve written about how large my family is. Well imagine all those birthdays that have feast, now add all those holidays, now add that to  all those just cause we miss each other. Really it’s quite ridiculous the amount of food we eat.  It not the worse thing ever. It’s been engrained in my head, in all our heads for that matter, that food is the way to a happy life.

It occurs to me, that I am not the only problem. Obviously, I put the food in my mouth.  If you want to know about a culture. There 6 key things that will most certainly tell you everything about a culture. Food, Dance, Music, Children, & the Elderly.   Food, being on top of the list. Food is universal.  Much like music & dance.  It’s well … primal.  I don’t think I am the only one who has so much love for food. I also don’t believe it’s just us Americans.   Food has been the source of celebration throughout the ages. It’s hardwired for us to love food as much as we do. Here’s the problem.  We have not evolved quite as fast as technology has.  We have not evolved as fast as processed food.  We have changed our environment but we still our still very basic human beings. Our foods are loaded with unnecessary calories, sugars, and dies,  GMOs,  and food is no longer a source of sustenance.  We no longer eat because we have to, we eat because we can. We eat more and do less.  Food has become something obscene  vulgar.  This is where I must change my thinking on food.

I will still be in love with all of it’s sensation of food.  But I will no longer will I be mindless about food.  To my friends & family. You will just have to show your love another way. Like shoes & corsets. I really fucking love shoes & corsets. Maybe even some wild ass makeup & books, but please no cookies, cakes, or pastries.

And here is something funny. Even though I know I am fat. I never had those big girl hang ups. Like no body loves me, every body hates me, bullshit. If anything I have a rather over inflated ego. In my head I am 5’10 drop dead gorgeous Amazon who can crush the world with her bare hands! Muahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!  Then I look at pictures of myself. I’m like, “wow.. is that me? I am a lot fatter then I think I am.” Which is oddly humorous.  I’ve never once thought I wasn’t beautiful or awesome or I wasn’t good enough.  I’ve barely been mistreated by men. If anything I generally get a lot of attention where ever I go, and men are rather wonderful to me. Which obviously pets my already big ego. (I’m human, I can admit this) What I don’t like is  I can’t run a mile or two. Mainly, I don’t like feeling as strong as I know I am. I’m so looking forward to the gym this year. 3 more weeks and I will be able to start going again. Look out world, 2014 is going to be the year of the Zoila the Amazon.


Post to Twitter

Why yes, we are polyamorous.

Why yes, we are polyamorous.

So for my close friends who already know. I am sure you are thinking about time you FINALLY speaking up about this. For my family & friends who kinda knew. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… it just hasn’t been easy. It’s taken Ian & I, quite a long time to fully be ok with whatever people have to dish out at us.  So if your feelings are hurt that I am using my blog as a way to vent.. I  truly  am sorry.  To my friends have NO CLUE at all, well don’t feel left out, I assure you we kept this pretty close.   Know, that it hasn’t been easy for us, we have been together 12 yrs, and open for at least 8 of those years. We knew from the very beginning that we were both bisexual, and that monogamy wasn’t ideal for us. It took years before we were comfortable to explore an open relationship and years more to really know what we wanted  from each other and from anybody else who enter our lives.  At 20, I had no idea what polyamory was.. but I knew I was. Nor did I believe we were part of any social revolution. Looking back, I know now that we are. I’m writing now, because I believe our voices need to be heard to ease path for other couples like us, non-monogamous people, and anyone who  maybe involved with poly person.  It isn’t easy living a life against the norm of society, it can be rather lonely when you fallow your heart.

My Journey into Polyamory.

I have been having this conversation about living honestly. Mostly with myself and how I relate with others.

I know it’s easy for me to love people even in the briefest of moments. What I mean by that; is that I can meet someone and love them for who they are in THAT particular moment. Then the moments gone. I walk away feeling, “I hope they were as happy to meet me, as I was them. I hope they knew that I loved them.”

I know people feel at ease with me quickly. However, I definitely do not feel that connection with many people. Only a handful have ever struck me, in a way that I felt like I’ve known them my whole life and I had loved the entirety of my life. That some how, we crossed paths many times before. Our souls have shared many lives together. And it is these people whom I love so deeply.

I truly believe that love is infinite and it transcends all space and time. Horribly cheesy, statement, but I do. The Love my parents had for each other. The Love I received as a child. The Love from my father. The Love from my mother. The Love from my brothers. The Love my sisters. The Love from my community. Had made it easier to love myself’ love their deaths, in that I was lucky enough to have wonderful people in my life; which made it easier have a great first love; my husband;my children; my girlfriends;and pretty much anybody that comes into my life.. even the homeless man on the corner. Every person I have allowed myself to love unconditionally…the next person in gets a better version of me. Someone more capable and more committed to being genuine.

The modern human condition seems that of loneliness. And I can’t help but believe it is because our very core us, we miss our tribal selves. We miss each others time, embrace, sincerity…deep connection. Really what prevents that? We do. There is no reason why we should not have those connections.

I am the the youngest of 8. While my family isn’t perfect. Growing up with a large family has taught me a lot. Not just my capacity for love and that respect is often more important. I’ve learned that I relate differently to different siblings. My relationship with my parents is very different then their relationship with our parents. And my overall capacity for caring for others is more then most. Not just that, but I love different people differently.

I don’t think I am some great person that has this great capacity for love. I believe it’s a choice. Much like happiness…honesty… and respect.

Unfortunately, when people hear that I am polyamorous they assume that I am having wild and crazy sex with whomever, whenever or worst… that I am a polygamist who is akin to child-molester and part of a cult. Reality. It is neither. My life is probably just as mundane as yours if not more mundane.

Difference is, I don’t deny my friends, family, lovers or even strangers my unconditional love. I know the three dirty words “I love you” sends a lot of people running. But when I say “I love you;” it isn’t to have you at my side or even to have sex with you. It is just that. I love you simply. I love who you are, what you do, and all that is YOU.

So while, my husband and I are open and have been for the the better part of our marriage. We have only been open physically with a select few. Yes, some relationships are sexual in nature, but that isn’t why we have sex out side of each other. I have sex with you because I want to share myself with you. It is one more extension of how I want to show my affection. Other relationships our far closer then that of a regular friendship and verge on something more of a marriage but are not sexual at all but there is genuine deep love for each other and immensely intimate. Polyamory is for me an all encompassing term for I-love-you-let-me count-the ways-colors-shades-flaw-in-between-that-we-can-not-define-and-refuse-to-let-ourselves-feel-for-one-another.

Aside from a larger family and the loss of many. My love for my first, never died. It was this epiphany that would change me and my husband forever.

My first love, In a nutshell, we met online in a IRC chat room, before online dating was cool. I really believe he saved my life. I had just lost my brother to a drowning, my grandparents to a car accident, a few family friends, and my mom was in and out  of unwellness, not to mention my surgeries for pacemakers. I was getting into fights, drinking, I was a fucking mess, suicide was a daily thought for me. But talking to that wonderful boy on IRC, even though he lived in Canada, everyday was enough to keep my grounded. After 3yrs of online dating, we decide to see each other. So my senior year of HS he decided to come to see me. He didn’t fly, nope he hiked. Granted, he didn’t make it very far,was and was taken back to Winnipeg. It was huge sacrifice on his part.(probably the single most romantic thing anybody had ever done for me)He did make it down.

He A-D-O-R-E-D my father and my dad adored him. Long story short. Dad told him to join the army. The fallowing summer he did. That winter after he left, I was drinking with my with a friend and some guys I didn’t know. And sure enough I slept with one them. I don’t have much memory of the night, but I remember being repulsed and needing a shower, and joking about it  with my friend so not to show that I was upset. (because this is what I do… I laugh to keep from crying) Instead of telling him that I had been drinking. I just told him I had cheated on him. (in the moment, that was far easier then to tell him how horribly irresponsible..stupid.. and naive I  really was) Probably the only time in my life I’ve actually felt guilt and shame. He was heart broken, and we were off and on until the fallowing summer. I flew to Canada. I knew that if we could make it through that, we would spend the rest of lives together. That weekend was wonderful. I came home planning to move to Canada. By mid-summer we had broken up. Obviously I was heart broken. I spent that summer drinking as much and as often as I could. By Aug, I had a miscarriage. I didn’t tell him or anyone else until I met my now husband. (At the time I felt that we had broken up and I didn’t want to make him feel guilty..I eventually told him years later)

He had joined the Canadian army and was off to Afganistan. We spoke briefly when I had any life changing events. But when I lost my dad, I knew I had to tell him. I found him online and shot him my new number. It was hard.. so very hard. Sense then, we’ve made a point to check in with each other. I never stopped loving him and the same goes for him. What has been hardest, was not having his friendship. Honestly I still feel that way at times. I still want to call him up and tell him how wonderful my day was or how much I really need his shoulder to cry on. I know he needs to live his life, so I don’t. But there are days when we just say I love you.. for no other reason, and there is something very special..sad.. simple.. nostalgic..and infinite all at the same time. He is still one of the very few people that can make me tear up in an instant. Oh no, not because he is cruel but because he is absolutely one of the most genuine souls you will ever meet.

When I met, Ian, we were together about a year and still I felt like I had been cheating on my Canadian Boy. Because I was still very much in love with him. It was hard to admit that not only did I still loved him, and I always will. But when I confessed, I found out that, Ian,  felt the same way about his first love too. He got it. He got me.  It hit me like a ton of bricks. THIS BOY GETS ME! HE REALLY GETS ME!  That’s when I stopped shaming myself. I knew in that moment that I will never have to hide who I was again from my husband. I didn’t know what polyamory was at 20,  but I knew that we would never have a stereotypical marriage.

I know that what drives me being polyamory is loss. Either because: Life didn’t work out the way I had planned it. The loss of loved ones. The many close calls I’ve come to seeing that white light. Almost loosing my children.

I never  want to run and hide. The idea of not ever being able to love again; well it’s enough to bring tears to my eyes. I know I am sensitive, probably more so then most. I have always been that way, but as I get older, I feel that life is so very fragile, and we shouldn’t take it for granted. Though we do it all the time. We should do our best not to. It has to be a conscious effort for us, not only being capable of more, but receiving it as well.


Post to Twitter

To shoe or not to shoe…why must you question?

To shoe or not to shoe…why must you question?

One of questions I get all the time is: “Where are  his shoes?”  As if going shoeless will make you shrivel up and die. Oh the immorality of it all!  Perhaps it’s because I hate shoes as well, that I don’t mind my kids being barefoot. Zeke loathes socks and shoes, as much as I do. I generally don’t make him wear them unless we are at store. We keep his shoes in the van most of the time, so we don’t have to fight the issue as we’re leaving the house.

I am always amazed at the social implications of being barefoot. Oddly enough, shoes aren’t that great for us in the first place. So why do people get flabbergasted  over kids or adults going barefoot? One theory is that, “Many people regard the wearing of footwear as a sign of civilization and being barefoot as a sign of poverty. “  So my question is this. What is so terrible, so inhumane about being poor in the first place? I mean being poor was good enough for Jesus, Gandi & Buddha and many other men & women who changed the face of the earth.

Please vote for PolyHobbyMommy.com.  Just click the link.  Fallow  me on  Twitter @ polyhobbymommy  & Facebook Thanks!


Post to Twitter

6mos is far too long

6mos is far too long

I haven’t been blogging… well honestly because life has been life.  But I decided not only am I going to get back to writing and blogging.. but I am going to be more honest.. and more raw.. *gasp* Can that be so? Yeh.. Even on this media I hold back, No more. So if I offend, thee. Sorry.. it’s not personal. It’s your interpretation, and you choose to be offended. If I haven’t yet.. likely I will at some point in time. I never mean to, but will occasionally stick my big foot in my big mouth. Nobody is perfect and I can not pretend to be.

Post to Twitter

Healthcare Reform Rant

Healthcare Reform Rant

I am so EXCITED for the new healthcare reform.

NO more will I be denied insurance because I happened to be born with 3 holes in my heart, husband is type I diabetic, and two boys with Aspergers, etc, etc.

NO more will companies tell me that my family are virtually uninsurable but if I wanted to pay $2000/mo just so they can cover one well visit a year to the doctor they choose for me. I would be willing to pay $2000/mo if they covered more then the very bare minimum and included dental and vision. God forbid I ask about life insurance. I wont got there.

NO filing bankruptcy because insurance company didn’t see the necessary on seeing my cardiologist twice a yr rather then once a yr… repeat for  EVERY appointment ever needed.

FUCK YEH I am excited that the cost of the insurance that we  have will go down.

For the born healthy, you have no idea how lucky you are.  It doesn’t effect you until you get cancer or some other life treating event.  It should be important to you regardless

For the people who think it’s going to ruin the American  because it supports laziness. You  should be ashamed for thinking that some how that this only effect participants on welfare who are “lazy” and “don’t work.” (truthfully for you to think that about anybody is  beyond sad) There are plenty of hard working folks who’s company offers piss poor insurance or none at all or work them 34 hrs/wk so they don’t have to offer insurance to their “part-time” employee. There are many states where hospitals are privately owned and you can’t get help at all unless you can fork up a few grand first. Even life threatening events can be dismissed based on your socio-economical up bringing.

For military insured who disagree again you are lucky. If I could have joined the military I would have. Never mind YOU are getting your insurance from the government. Nobody like to say that. But truth be known, you are.

Truthfully I don’t understand why so many people are freaking out about it. It’s going to be more cost effective and it’s going to stop HMO for denying people who need health care… well healthcare.  Ok.. I do get the mandatory. If that’s truly an issue. Why do you pay car insurance.. hmmm? What happens if you don’t get any .. you get fined $500 plus fees to reinstate your drivers licenses.  HMOs have been taking Americans for a wild goose chase. Why aren’t freak about that?  It’s about time that they stop bullying the general public.

Am I bitter? Yes.. yes I am.  I have been dicked around my whole life by insurance companies, hospitals, doctors office, etc.  And I think it’s about time the government put their foot down. And I don’t want to hear it will bankrupt them. They make 1000 times what they need to help their customers.  And I certainly do not feel bad for the millionaire CEOs who make a living at human hardship. Do I think they should make big bucks, of course. Do I feel bad that they can’t  control the market. Not one bit. That’s just it. HMO companies have been driving the cost up. How? Because when they refuse to cover the people are in NEED. Many including myself resort to the ER knowing I wouldn’t be able to pay.  Sadly that was our cycle for 6yrs. Making $20 too much to receive welfare or able to go to the free clinics and pre-existing conditions preventing us to purchase insurance.  No I am no proud, but that’s the sad fact for MANY Americans face.

Honestly, do I think it will run smoothly? Hell no. I do believe this has to fail for us to have Socialized Medicine. Call me a tree-hugging-liberal. That is what I am.  Here in American, one should never go without: Food. Education. Healthcare. Jobs. Right to an Attorney.  We have been dragging our feet on universal healthcare for our Nation for 300yrs now. Our founding fathers knew then, that this was important. It’s a crying shame that other countries are a head of us in regards to these issues.

Post to Twitter

2 Birthdays, a pool party, and Memorial day drinks with friends

2 Birthdays, a pool party, and Memorial day drinks with friends

Memorial weekend was a CRAZY weekend. Most of my family lives in Gloucester Va. So the drive is about 1hr and half to two hrs away.  Surprisingly enough, we make this trip a few times a month, and in some occasions  every few days.  Memorial weekend, was just that.   My lil nephew  Lukie turned 1 that Sat so off to Gloucester we go.  Of course we had a good time. All the lil cousins either chased each other or played in the ditches.  How could they not? Sunday the boys went to their best friends house for a pool party, by the end of that, they were calling Sundays’ events, World War III. By all accounts, it was. For them, it was epic.  they had generals, knights, war lords, & water guns galore.  Oh the joys of being a kid.  That night, I went to have drinks with my friends. Which is always great to have adult conversation without someone needing you.  And that brings us to Monday.  A trip to Gloucester, My niece Katie had turned 17.  I tried to take a nap at my brother’s house…. but the mini concert in the back yard just wasn’t happening.

Who says homeschooled boys with Aspergers have to be socially deprived? Certainly not my boys.  Memorial Weekend was a great kick off to what our summer will look like. Kung Fu, Surfing, pool parties, and of course shenanigans with family and friends

Post to Twitter

Kiss My Aspergers!

Kiss My Aspergers!

This is for anyone who has a loved one with Autism, and especially for all the ones whom we love with Autism.  My children overwhelm even myself with their capacity for love and expectance in others.  If I have achieved nothing else in my life, I would be a happy woman.  This is the one aspect of my life, that  I am most proud of. My only hope is that this will always stay with them, despite life’s turbulence. 

I generally don’t tell people that they have Aspergers  at first, unless they ask. Mainly, because I don’t the anyone to treat them different or think they are incapable of anything just because they have Aspergers.   Reality is, someone always makes a comment about their behavior or lack of eye contact. And I then tell them.  The boys just started Kung Fu.  On the second day of Kung Fu, Gabe proudly announces he  and his brother, Zeke, has Aspergers. I’ve never hid it from the boys, we are involved with the Autism Community here in Va Beach, and most of their closest friends are on the spectrum too.   They know they have Aspergers Syndrome, but I’m not totally sure what it means to them.

Today were driving in the van to yet another doctors apt.  I figured this what a good time to have this conversation with them.  What they had to say, made my heart soar and brought tears to my eyes. It is the moments, that I know I am doing things right despite all that we’ve endured.

Me: “So Gabe, you told the teacher you have Aspergers. What does Aspergers mean to you?”

Gabe:” I donno”

Me:”Well… you know a thing or two about it.  How do you feel about all your friends who have Aspergers”

Gabe: “They are always the nicest and the smartest kids I know.  They are builders and inventors”

Me: “Is it a compliment or a put down when you think of the word Aspergers”

Gabe: “of course it’s a compliment… who wouldn’t want friends with Aspergers”

Me: “What do you think about your friends who are non-verbal”

Gabe: “Mom… don’t you know they are the most nice of all”

Me:”yeh… they are aren’t they”

Me: “So Zeke, what are your thoughts?”

Zeke: “I agree… they are too smart and too nice”

Me: “And the kids who are non-verbal”

Zeke: “They are thoughtful… nothing is wrong with them, they are just thinking”

Me “You were non-verbal for awhile… do you remember any part of it.”

Zeke: “I know… but I was thinking.. that’s how I know they are thinking”

Me: “What were you thinking about?”

Zeke: “I don’t remember… but I know it was important”

Post to Twitter