Grief

Grief is a tricky little bitch. Sneaky. Stealthy.

Thirty years ago today (or tomorrow, depending on when I post this....we're close to midnight, so I guess it all depends on where you are in the world) Patrick was born.

His time was cut way too short.

It soon will be 9 months since Patrick was killed. A few days ago I picked the kids up from my in-laws and Little Man said with such sadness in his voice, "Mommy, I really miss Uncle Patrick."

And more than anything I want to take away the pain of my family, to make it whole again. For my husband to not miss his little brother. For my in-laws to not grieve their son and brother. To not have my 4 and 5 year old children know such loss. Such an unnecessary loss.

I would gladly take all the pain myself to make it go away for the rest, but I can't.

So here we are 8 months later and I still have days where I sob in the shower.

Days where I have such angry, illogical, irrational, imaginary verbal diarrhea towards his killer. Who's still free. Who's still fighting the felony charges. Who gets to live his life.

I know, he has to live with the guilt, blah, blah, blah. I don't really give a fuck. Everyone says I need to forgive him. And at this point, no, I really don't have to forgive him. There is nothing forgivable about the situation.

BECAUSE HIM GETTING ROTISSERIE CHICKEN COST MY FAMILY WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH.

Order a fucking pizza next time, k?

I would have liked to have written a nice post about how great Disney World was and all that, but soon it will be Patrick's birthday and we, as a family, have to figure out how to get through the day without Patrick. Because we've figured out the mundane, everyday life without him. And we continue to dodge the mines of the holidays, but this would have been his 30th birthday.

Such a monumental birthday that he never got to see, to celebrate.

The weather is unseasonably warm for Wisconsin and we will go to the zoo as a family to get the in-laws out of the house and to celebrate his life once again.

*****I started this post in mid-October, but didn't post until November 7th...apparently the blog software decided to use the date I started the post on. Dang, I really need to pay more attention to this stuff.

Allergies can kiss my ass

About 18 months ago, I was finally diagnosed with an allergy to dust mites. Little fuckers. Which means our mattress and box spring need to be encased in a gigantic plastic bag and our linens must be washed on hot pretty frequently to avoid an allergy attack.


Keep in mind, dust mites are EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE. So, if I sleep on our 20 year old couch, allergy attack.


Tonight it's chilly. In addition to our hypo-allergic comforter, Gumby brought a very comfy blanket to bed. I'd been asleep maybe 30 minutes and woke up, hardly able to breathe and a horrific allergy attack. ARG.


Now I sit here, waiting for the benadryl to kick in, so I can go back to sleep.


This sucks.

Baby Girl is completely into her routine and loving school. Little Man also fell right in and loves being there in the morning and coming home with me for a few hours in the afternoon.

The other day I arrived just a moment late to pick him up, they were just excusing him and I could see him scanning the crowd of parents with a huge grin on his face, wearing his sunflower mask he made. When he didn't see me, I saw the disappointment. It's interesting to see the impact. I stepped out from behind a parent and he was instantly back to happy.

We had Parent's Night at school a few weeks ago. We each met with their teachers. This time I made Gumby take Little Man's class and I went to Baby Girl's class. I figure Gumby never remembers the details and since Baby Girl actually has homework and such, it was more important I see her teacher. Afterwards Gumby went to choir (and he's still struggling with the idea that the Choral Director told him he was a tenor) and I went to the parent assembly.

It's amazing the things that they have going for fundraising. Lots of opportunities to volunteer in the coming months.

What's also amazing is what the kids are going to learn in 5K. Basically it seems like what was 1st grade when we were kids is now 5K. That's a lot of responsibility for a 5 year old. I do like that they are teaching the kids to read now as one large group, but they will break them into groups later in the year based on their level.

Today we took the kids to the Elegant Farmer. Thought they'd both go for a caramel apple, but Little Man got a huge cookie, then opted to share Mary Mac's caramel apple with her (poor woman!) and Baby Girl copied Mommy and got a piece of the famous apple pie baked in a bag. I had mine topped with cinnamon ice cream and she opted for blue moon (just like her Daddy!). Which was gross, by the way. But she liked it. *gag*

We are closer and closer to our trip to Disney. It's very exciting and I can't wait. The kids still don't know that's where we're going, through Baby Girl has some very strong suspicions. A friend from K5 went a few weeks ago, Baby Girl mentioned we're going to Florida and the friend said, "That's where Disney World is! Are you going???"

Baby Girl then told me this in the car and asked and I almost choked on my laughter.

It will be a great time. A healing time.

Tomorrow is another court date for the man that killed Pat. I'm sure it will simply end in another continuance. It seems like they have not real desire to end this. Which feels like they don't want to give us closure, but I know that's reading way too much into it.

It's still frustrating to miss him so much 8 months out. To still have to have crying jags in the shower where the kids can't see or hear me. I know it's healthy for them to know I'm still sad about it and to know that's OK, but I don't need them to see me when I have a freakin' breakdown. They saw enough of that in the weeks immediately following the accident. So you can see the problem, no?

Alas, Florida is our time for healing. It will be a wonderful, difficult time. I'm loading up on my anxiety pills now......