Wednesday, February 1, 2012

I am suddently a posting fool.

For real, this past week I have been thinking of a million things that I want to say. I suddenly have an urge to release all these jumbled thoughts running through my brain. So I am trying an experiment in thought process, I am just going to type all of the random things that pop up. Let us see what comes of it all.

Digarigdo, Do you do a digarado? No I don't digarido....what did I do with that book (how is it spelt)? It must be in storage. Checklist find that book to read to Colin. He always liked that one, he will be to old for it soon.

Hmmm The Big Bang Theory is on..Sheldon is so funny. Should I watch or should I finish typing this?

Yesterday I had a disturbing text from an exfriend. Where I was informed that I was not only disloyal but meek. You see I apparently made her feel third on my list and should have chosen her more over others. Well I guess that makes me disloyal and meek. That hurt, I mean stick a dagger in your heart and tear in a downward swooping motion. I guess I was not the best friend I could have been. But after 17 years to be told this was quite a shock. And to have a friend end our relationship just shy of a few months after Braedon passed, well again dagger to the heart. I forgive her. I am sad but I forgive her. I have no room for anymore anger, so this one I will let go. I hope she finds happiness and a friend that puts her first on their list. I will always love her and I have wonderful memories of our time together. Life moves forward and so will I.

Oh yeah, I was going to look up this song today. I heard it on Glee last night and forgot how much I enjoyed it.

I have to start telling everyone at work about this new baby, I am fearful. My tummy is pouching out and I can not hide it for more than maybe a week or two. I feel like the more I talk abut it the more people I have to deal with if things all go wrong. Yes, I am stuck in the if things go wrong mode. I can't help it.

Parent teacher conference tomorrow. Feeling stressed out. Do I tell the teacher that he is daydreaming and being distracted because well he is distracted. Lately he is in his own world and I wonder do I find a reason for this? Do I want to find something wrong with an 8 year old who has a big imagination and an even bigger heart. He is unique and perfect and smart. And it pisses me off that some teacher wants to pigeon hole him into what she considers acceptable. I wish I could home school but I love working and I love having the second income. These choices are so unfair. Why do Moms not get to have the easy route. Be a Mom and be able to work without losing out on either?

I have been feeling poetic lately, reading others blogs. The words you say. Beauty typed in black font on a screen. I want to start writing poetry. Alas, I am not poetic but words do drop from the skies sometimes.

No words could describe your beauty.
your name is your poem.
Within your name, I find myself dwelling.
Each letter wanting to represent something.
Beauty, radiance, ambiance, eternal, devotion, ongoing, never ending....

I think I see him sometimes, out of the corner of my eye. I catch a glimpse. A mere shadow. Maybe it is just a dust bunny. I suppose it is wishful thinking but I can't help but whisper. ... Don't go, stay with me.. Stay with me.

Today we talked about just seeing his eyes one time. I tried to open his eyes. I wanted to see but they were milky and not that clear. I think they would have been blue but it is hard to say. I wanted to see his eyes and hear his cries and it is all so wrong when your baby does not breathe or make a sound and you are left alone and sad and hurt.

When they first told me I was calm. I went into the bathroom and that is where I first let it go. I sat on the toilet, shoulders shaking. Broken, broken into so many pieces. I think some of those slivers lay there still.

Ughhh, really men can be such slobs. Three boys in this house and yes that does count my husband. I am so tired of picking up their messes. The thing is I have been pretty lazy since Braedon left us. My energy level is nill. But no one cleans up after themselves anymore and I am tired of dealing with it. So I guess I need to perk up and clean up or let it pile up and forget about it. No win situation.

In days gone by we dream. Our memories we cherish. The memories we will never have we mourn. A loss of tomorrow, a dream of yesterday. Empty arms, broken hearts.

I need a haircut, a color, a spa day. I really need to save my pennies right now, but I want some pampering. The last time I had a haircut was months ago. Not acceptable. I need a me day.

I have his hand prints in frames. Prior to his birth, we each did our hand prints in paint on canvas. 4 prints. Special but now all the more special. With his last moments with Braedon, my darling husband asked the nurse to bring him up for him one last time. I was unaware of all of this in my room on Meds.. He took his little hand and placed a print on the center of each one of ours. His last moments with his son. Something I will cherish forever. I am still searching for a gift to give him in return but I can not find anything that measures up. When I sit here on the couch typing, I see them out of the corner of my eye. Prints framed now. Bittersweet.

It is late, time to stop rambling. What a mess of thoughts. There were more but this post would have been too long to keep anyone interested.

Do your thoughts center around the ones you love, the ones you lost? Do you wonder about the little things while contemplating the meaning of life? Is your brain Swiss cheese or a never ending vacuum sucking up the little bits of dirt of life?


  1. My thoughts always come back to Seamus. He's the only thing I can focus on for any length of time these days.

    Good luck with telling work - I finally told my boss on Friday... I did get lots of "Congratulations!!" and I do feel quite exposed now that everyone seems to know, but I suppose it's also a bit of a relief in that it's done. I couldn't hide it forever.

    Your husband's idea of placing prints of Braedon's hands within your own hand prints is so beautiful. What a wonderful thing to have done.

  2. It really sounds like my head, a million things on at once. In fact sometimes I short out and stand there in a daze. Everyone knows now that when I do that I am processing, my hubby always jokes that he needs to update my hardrive.

    That friend you talked about sounds rather selfish to me, she shouldnt be worrying about how much attention she is getting right now, but rather how much attention, love, patience and understanding she is giving you.

    I love the poem and I love the name Braedon, The prints sound beautiful.

    I can see how you have your hands full with a house full of boys, I am always cleaning up after my Hubby.

    Good luck with the parent teacher conferance and with giving the news to work. xo

  3. I loved reading this post. I've read it three times today. Do we share a brain? It was much like trying to record my own thoughts. Home schooling, calm, work, beauty, shadows, digaridos and all.

    I certainly seem to switch between the mundane and trivial back to . . . well . . death. She died. She died and I still can't quite believe that she did.

    Those hand prints sound absolutely beautiful. But yes, bittersweet. I don't think that anyone outside of these places would understand, that Georgina is in my thoughts as often as my other children, as often as my husband. Not in a sad way or a tragic way every single time. But she is there. In my own slice of swiss cheese, alongside my job worries and housework and the tunes that get stuck in my brains. I'm just as aware of her as I would be if she had lived.

    I'm so sorry about the exfriend, that sounds like a very painful situation. I don't think of meek as a criticism so I'm puzzled. You are a good person, to let that one go, I hope it brings you peace.

  4. Oh Paula, I love this, your thoughts bouncing around. I'm feeling the same with bouncy thoughts. I think of Liam's death, dissecting our last days before I went into the hospital and then our last days together in the hospital bed, I think about how I can't believe he's gone. I think about how much I hope this IVF cycle works and then I think what i'm in for if it does work. My mind is all over the place, contemplating the meaning of life, sucking up the bits, swiss cheese too. But it *all* comes back to Liam. J and I could be the simplest thing like running errands and we feel Liam's absence. He should be strapped into his car seat in the back driving along with us on our errands.

    "I think I see him sometimes, out of the corner of my eye. I catch a glimpse. A mere shadow. Maybe it is just a dust bunny. I suppose it is wishful thinking but I can't help but whisper. ... Don't go, stay with me.. Stay with me."

    Exactly. I get this so much.

    The prints sound so beautiful and so is Braedon's poem.

    Thinking of Braedon and you and baby today. xx

  5. I completely understand the fragmented thoughts... my brain seems to bounce around constantly. I surprise myself sometimes when I find something I can concentrate on (usually at work) and it feels like such a relief to be focused for a while.

    Thinking of you.