Pouring Your Heart Out w/Shell...Back To School Time.

Do you need to pour your heart out about something? Then click on the button above to Shell's post at Things I Can't Say, grab a button to put on your PYHO post, and begin pouring.


Please be mindful that everyone linking to Shell's PYHO post is pouring their hearts out and we should all be respectful in our comments. ;)


In our school, they teach (elementary level) Pre-K, through 5th. Last year was THE day for my youngest. She was almost 5 then (will be 6 in a few months). I, like many, counted down the days, made everything sound right in the world to her in regards to going to "big kid" school. And I made it like it was block-party time because Miss Skyler was *GOING TO SCHOOL!*.

When the day was FINALLY here, we got her in her uniform (yes, we are a uniform school..blech!), her big sissy and bro-bro helped her pack her back pack and then all of us (incl. dad who went in late to see this) waited for the inevitable. The first bus ride "alone" as a fully independent child. Not the dependent baby I raised to get to this stage of life.

As we stood there, I had flashbacks of all three kids run through my head. Of when they were babies and toddlers. And then I saw before my eyes, the wonderful children that they (at this point in their lives) have thus far grown up to be.


Sure, I smiled, laughed, made it all-out exciting and positive. But I was dying a little inside. It hurt to see my last baby go off. And seeing Skyler get on that bus did me in. Yes, I kept that slapped-on smile upon my face, and I waved to her as they started to pull off. But, as soon as they were out of eyesight, I lost it.

No longer could I hold back the hurt that my heart felt. The tears in their dam were no longer able to be kept at bay. Reality hit me square in the face, and in the heart.

Walking back in to the house, it was eerily quiet. I was so used to hearing Nick Jr. on the television and seeing Skyler munching on a morning goody (cereal mainly).

But on that day, it was just me and the cats. No "Mama!! I'm thirsty.", or "Mama! Where we go today?". Because, she was at "big kid" school.

This year, it will be a bit better. And Skyler is SO very excited to be going back to school. So is Bryce. Hayley on the other hand? She is 50/50 on the subject.

I get to do this again NEXT year with my oldest, who will be in Middle/Junior High School. It will (I'm sure) be riddled with many of the same fears as I had with them going off to Kindergarten (or Pre-K in Skyler's case) for the first time. Only this time, with MUCH more peer pressure and other "really big kid" things.

Even now, I can see Hayley (and yes, Bryce, too) as they were in the days of where Skyler is now. And all I can wonder at this point is...

God, where does the time fly off to? It all happens so quickly.

Memoir Monday w/Travis...The Parent Edition.

Got a memorable moment in your life that you wish to share? Then, click on the linky above, grab a button and share it with us with a Memoir Monday post!


Kids. They bring joy to your life. They let you live on, even after you are gone, being that you are a part of them. They give you unconditional love.

But they can be your worst nightmare as well. Attitudes, lying to your face, getting in to the junk food at all hours, waking you up at an ungodly hour of the morning to watch Saturday Morning Cartoons..Oh wait! That was me. My bad. Sorry, Dad.

My life BEFORE kids was much calmer. Sure I dealt with some real assholes in my time, being I have worked retail for most of my adult life (until the last kiddie came along). But having kids and dealing with them 24/7 makes you realize that dealing with the assholes of retail-society pales NOTHING in comparison, then having to deal with your own kids.

Back before my brood, I was able to stay up until four-AM, sleep in until noon, eat and cook whenever I wanted to. I would get drunk with my friends.

I even remember back in the day, out-drinking a MALE buddy with Jose Cuervo shots. Seven of them to be precise. He puked over the banister railing of the apartment complex I lived in. My poor neighbors. Talk about a surprise present.

Myself? Let's just say I got off easy. No! Not THAT kind of "got off". Get your minds out the ditch, would ya?? I meant that I had basically NO hangover, what-so-EVER! Just a slight belly ache. Otherwise, no pounding, blinding headache. No barfing on the bathroom floor, because I missed the toilet in a blinding haze of post-party rapture. Just a need for a couple Alkaseltzers, and I was good to go.

These days, I rarely get to go anywhere without AT LEAST one to two of three kids in tow. I don't get "mommy time" even while I sit my ass on the toilet! Plus, if I drink, it's ONE beer. And that is AFTER the kids are asleep. My hair now has more gray in it than a bird has feathers. My sanity is only now somewhat in tact...It doesn't help that the creatures I call my children are still on Summer Vacation.

But that changes in THREE WEEKS! Yes, I am actually counting down the weeks. And that last week, I'm gonna be counting down the days, as to remind the kiddies that I will regain my sanity the moment that I shove them under...er, I mean shove them ON TO the school bus.

Ah! What a life!! Both pre-kid, and today. I wouldn't trade them for anything. But I do miss my old, pre-kid life of pure independence.

Boy Sent Back To Homeland ALONE, USA Mom Couldn't Handle Him.

Being a mother is a number one priority in my life. Especially being that my three children are children that the "medical professionals" said I would never have. I had birth defects that if I tried to carry a baby, my body would have gone against me so-to-speak and abort the baby. Plus, I have had a severe case of Ovarian Cystitis since I was a teenager. That too was a factor, being that even then, the cysts that have ravaged my ovaries were scarring them, making it less possible to be fertile.

But, apparently, like in the years before, I defied the odds and surprised the medical community by getting pregnant with my first baby. Sadly, that was an Ectopic, caught in the ovary (of all things). A year later, I had my first born, who is now ten. Seventeen months later, followed her little brother, who will be nine tomorrow.

In 2003, we were pregnant with what was to be our last baby. But it had died in the womb and never fully miscarried. But once more, a year later our youngest daughter was born. She is now five.

After losing two children, having almost lost one (the youngest at weeks eight and twelve of pregnancy, plus severe pre-term labor), I must say that I know that I'm extremely fortunate and blessed to have these three in my life. I would go to the ends of the earth for them....I would give my life for them. I am their best advocate and defender.

My middle son, as many of my readers know, is disabled with several mental disorders. I won't list them here, but you can find them in some of my previous posts. We have been through some tough times, he and I. Including me having to hospitalize him in a Pediatric Psychiatric Ward being that he was severely Manic, impulse-driven, running away to a dangerous area repeatedly and needed major medication adjustment. We have cried together as we both faced fears of knowing he just threatened to KILL ME over simple little things....Yes, it has gotten that severe in his last five years of dealing with Mental Illness.

So, with all of that said, I find it outrageously appalling to see an article about a single, adoptive mother, who adopted her seven-year-old son from Russia, out of one of the orphanages, only to SEND HIM BACK, alone! Yes folks, she sent him back ALONE on an overseas flight back to Russia, with a note attached to him stating (in part), "After giving my best to this child, I am sorry to say that for the safety of my family, friends, and myself, I no longer wish to parent this child."

Where did this woman give her "best" to her son? If she gave her best to him, then she would STILL have him, love him, and get him all of the possible psychological care available. She only got that for HERSELF to see what she could do for him and get advice. Not to truly help him. Not once did she get an evaluation for services done on her son. And she freely admitted to that!

Obviously, she has NO business being a "mother". Adoptive or biological. What mother in their right mind would throw away their child in that manner? She did not even try to get help for the boy.

Read the article here... http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100410/ap_on_re_us/us_russia_adopted_boy

Sure, this woman saw a psychologist, but NEVER took him in to get evaluated and to receive help for his mental problems, that most likely stemmed from his living conditions and trauma in his life back in Russia.

It's certainly apparent that there was an extreme lack of common sense, patience and LOVE on this woman's part. If she REALLY wanted to be a mother, she would have not have sent that little boy back to his native homeland alone on a plane. She instead would have done EVERYTHING possible to help him first, before even fathoming the thought of washing her hands of him.

What my son has displayed over the last five years, I have noted that this little Russian boy has also done or attempted to do. He needs serious help and UNCONDITIONAL love.

I'm hoping that the adoption was finalized here in the States, and that this young man is a citizen of the USA. Then, she will have to get him back and make a difficult choice. One, take him back in and MOTHER him (as in get him HELP in the proper manner and LOVE him as a mother should). Or two, place her son in to a Foster Home situation, give up all parental rights to the child, and let a loving family who WILL help him adopt this troubled boy.

There are days where my nerves have been tested BEYOND their limits and frayed. I hate that my son (who is NOT a bad child) feels like the whole world is against him. That his own mind and body are against him. And he always tells me that he doesn't want to be bad. We are doing all we can in helping him in this fight for a "normal" life.

Yes, my son's mental disability affects the family as a whole. It impedes on his socialization and behavioral skills. He has very few friends. But they are ones that understand (yes kids in his age group CAN understand and do accept children that are not always "like them") that he is just "one of the guys".

I've had people stare at me and him as he has a Manic Episode or a Sensory Issue overload. He can be a real terror in those times. And yes, I have in the past, feared for my life, being that my small son threatened my life, with a HAMMER or a BUTCHER KNIFE in his hand, describing how he is going to kill me "until I'm dead". He has beaten his little sister in the past (mainly pushing her in to a piece of furniture, then slapping her). He has threatened to harm and even kill his big sister.

But never, EVER have I thought of kicking my son to the proverbial curb. Yes, I have thought of placing him in a group home in the past, temporarily. But never to just tell the state to take him and place him permanently somewhere else. I refuse to throw my child (or ANY of the three) away because life with them has becaome extremely difficult.

All I can hope is that this little boy from Russia, who only needed/wanted a LOVING home, with a LOVING family, will find a "forever family" that will take him in and get him all the help that he requires to work through the mental issues that plague him. No child (that has a disability of ANY kind) should be thrown away like a piece of bad meat. Yes, disabled children require more care and attention. But every one of those extra seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, and years is more than well worth it as their parent.

Too bad his "mother" didn't see it that way....

Lil Miss Independent

Mile Stones. As parents, we all look for them around every corner. We get excited with their first words, their first steps, their first day of school. Then comes having their first kiss, and their first time behind the wheel of a car.

During all of those major points of "firsts" in their lives, you sit back and wonder where time had flown past to. The first child in a multi-child household leaves you the most at awe. Being that everything your child is experiencing as their journey is fresh and new, so is watching him or her doing it, being that your journey as a parent is also fresh and new (and that NEVER changes as time goes on).

In my home, there are three children. My oldest, Hayley is ten years old. My middle, Bryce is eight. And the youngest, Skyler is five years old. All of them have very different and unique personalities. And each of them are more "close" to me and my husband, Scott than the others. In fact I have a "mix" when it comes to that matter.

Bryce is a "Mama's Boy" all the way. Skyler, being the baby is "Daddy's Girl". And depending on the situation and what she wants, Hayley can go either way.

Back to childrens' independence. As I said, the first child is hard to watch accomplish those huge "life goals". But, so is watching the "baby" of the family. If not a bit harder than the first, or even the second (or more, depending on the number of kids in your home). But like everything else, it is a part of life. And they must learn to do things on their own, and to communicate to let us know their needs, to walk so that they can at some point get from A to B on their own (like walking to school).

Yes, it is Saturday. At least that is what I am thinking. Skyler has decided that she will pack lunch for SCHOOL today, to have it ready for school on Tuesday (no school Monday due to MLK Day). I had asked if she needed help....Her reply?

Nope! She is a "big girl" and can do it herself. And she made sure I knew this fact. True, it's more like some bagged snacks, not a real lunch (which Mama will fix up right on Tuesday morning). After already seeing her take her first steps, speaking her first word, going potty on her own, and even going off to school for the first time, I think that THIS MOMENT has actually "hurt" the most. Why?

Because not once did she need me to help her in ANY way. Not to get any of the foods for her. Not to help her open the sandwich baggie to place the foods in, or even seal the bags. And she placed everything in her lunchbox on her own.

Now, as of today, my Skyler-Boo is officially being deemed "Lil Miss Independent". And I couldn't be more proud. Because this is exactly what I am aiming for with all three of my kids. To be independent, honest, caring individuals. And so far, they have all proven (for the most part) to be such children.

Being independent is a key ingredient for a child. One day, they will have to be on their own. So, we must teach them now so that when they are grown individuals out in society, they will have the needed tools to thrive.

Look To The Sunny Side Of Life...

Honestly, I do my best to try and follow that old saying. I really do. Even in the worst of situations. But there are days where it seems just impossible.

Including this morning. It seems almost like what CAN go wrong, HAS gone wrong.Dryer is kaput (though Scott and his brother are going to TRY and fix it this evening). My left Sinus Cavity is ready to just explode. Which in turn is making my "worked on" eye (that had the Cornea Transplant) get red, irritated, and tear like the Hoover Dam.

Add in the mix that the kids have recently been just buck wild, not listening, complaining about one another and having arguments ensue about every ten minutes on average.

Makes for a hectic life, and a hectic household.

It's not easy being a housewife, a stay-at-home-mom, and the accountant, the cook, the referee, the waitress, the maid, the laundress, the nurse, the doctor and all of the other "hats of expectation" that us SAHM's wear on a daily basis.

All the while, you are TRYING to take care of yourself, your needs. In the end, apparently, you have to take care of YOU and make sure yourself that YOU are getting the care you need and deserve. Because everyone else is too self-centered to see that once in a while YOU need to be "catered" to.

Some ask me how I stay so positive through it all...My son's mental disabilities/delays, taking care of the house and the kids, being my husband's "right hand girl" and trying to tackle getting better after saving my sight with a transplant surgery.

Really, I think you need to tell me. Because I honestly do not know. Sure I have my days of feeling "worthless", or like I am nothing but a maid to everyone. Yes, I admit it, some days I feel "used" by my kids and my hubsband. I know I am valued and loved. But they don't always show it.

And I also admit, that on some days I can be much the same way. I don't always show how much I value, love, and appreciate my family. But I do with all of my heart and all of my soul.

So, even though today I feel like I need a chisel to open up my nostril, that I feel like someone is holding a lit candle to my eye, my nerves are frayed and I am desperately seeking my dryer back in to working order, I shall try my best to "look on the sunny side of what life has to offer".

Our new baby Great Niece and what she is already giving us as a family. The flashbacks started.

It never ceases to amaze me. Even though I myself have brought forth the world's future three times over.

But there is something to be said when it comes to seeing a new life come in to this old world of ours. With them, we hold the torch in hopes of a better tomorrow for the future. We hand them our dreams to grasp and make their own.

When eying my new Great Niece this morning, I flashed back to the days when I was the one in that hospital, in that bed, holding that new life within my arms. It hit me in my mind as if I just gave birth yesterday.

What made this birth even more "close" to me was that Kirra Sage was only an ounce off, as well as 1/2 an inch off from my oldest, Hayley's birth totals. That little tiny girl sent me back ten years in the space of about five minutes.

She is an adorable little thing. Chubby, round cheeks. Long legs that were just kicking up a storm when her Daddy placed her in the bassinet from her Mommy's arms.

Kirra was born at 5:58 this morning, weighing in at 8 pounds, 8 ounces. She was also 20 1/2 inches long.

We all welcome this new bundle of happiness and joy in to the family. She was greatly anticipated. If only she knew just how big of a family she came in to. Then again, Kirra will know all too soon enough.

Thanks, Kirra (and Mama Kala) for bringing a little more love, joy, happiness and two more little feet in to our lives, not to mention, our hearts as well. We love you both, and Kirra's Dad, Jon as well. May you all have a happy, prosperous and joyous life as a family and an extended part of ours (and our hearts).

Puke, Barney and Cats

What a way to start off the day the right way! And it's a form of starting off the morning that I haven't done in quite some time.

How about we start with your child getting up at five in the morning, only to vomit all over your family area carpet as you blindly scramble to find a semi-clean towel and shove it under your daughter's face in the hopes that you catch at least most of it.

Only then, after throwing up the meal from the night before, do you clean up the remainder of her "morning gift" as you barely see out your good eye.

Finally! You drift back off to sleep, only to once again hear the sound of your five year old once again vomit. But she learned from the last time to actually puke in to the towel, not on her blanket or the rug.

Then, thirty minutes later, you raise up, thanks to the hubby turning on the loud shower at six-thirty only to find Barney the Dinosaur staring back at you from the television screen. OH THE HORROR that my eyes met!! Ugh! I can't stand that purple child molesting freak of nature. That image of his toothy grin is now etched deep in to my cerebral cortex.

On to the kitties who are not very innocent this morning. As I came in to the kitchen to start my morning coffee routine, I noticed what looked like black dirt on my kitchen floor. Nope!! Scott said it was the coffee grinds I threw away last night before washing my pot. Apparently, they decided to jump my garbage can and try to steal food from it.

Yes, people!! I do feed my fur-children. But they act like they are starved for weeks on end. The second that BOTH BOWLS are empty, they meow and cry as if they hadn't had a meal in a month of Sundays.

So, I filled the bowl of food, as well as dumped the nasty kitty litter box. As I did, Weebles (the youngest) decided he couldn't wait like a good boy, and peed in the corner where the box sits BEFORE I could sweep.

After all that was taken care of and their water container filled, all three cats filed in to the box at one time...Talk about a packed house! Two of the three decided to take a dump right after the freaking box was cleaned out and "refreshed" with all new litter in the pan. Needless to say, I once again scooped the freshly cleaned box as to get the stench out.

As of now, I'm letting both of the kids sleep as much as they want. I'm giving them medicines as needed. Being both have colds, they can take the same thing. But one may have to go to the doctor for an ear infection. And Skyler has managed to now not only puke on my rug, but has officially spilled drink as well.

Hayley will be home later today. I can only hope and pray that she isn't sick, and won't get sick! Bryce has yet to wake and cause me any grief...But it's coming!

Here is to my Puke-tastic, poop-tastic day in Stay-At-Home-Mom Land!!

Dear EBay

Dear EBay,

While you did rectify your poorly made decision, your company and it's "higher ups" still suck!

How can you sit there and pledge to WAIVE the fees to hold an auction to benefit a sick little boy and his family, which was amounting to around $450.00, only to get greedy and try to recend on YOUR promises?

EBay, you sicken me! Especially being that you TRIED to pull this little stunt right at Christmastime. That makes you the biggest SCROOGE of all to myself, many mommy-bloggers around the world, the family that the funds from the auction are helping, and many others from AROUND THE WORLD.

Are you people at the company happy with yourselves now? Or do you (and I hope you DO!) feel like a bunch of horse's asses? If the latter is true, then guess what? GOOD!!!! You don't deserve praise in my mind, even though you FINALLY did do the right thing.

But doing the right thing came a bit too late. It took multiple conversations with Supahmommy, many calls from angry mothers and fathers, and blog letters from us mothers who have been praying for and spreading awareness about Baby Jaden. Not to mention Tweets that went out WORLD WIDE, and Facebook users such as MYSELF who had spread the word about your selfishness and what crap you tried to pull to make a quick buck at the expence of a DYING BOY.

If you as a company that claims it cares and is a "community service" really in fact DID CARE, you wouldn't have gotten those dollar signs in your eyes and try to back out of a promise to waive those fees in the first place.

Instead, you had seen how successful the auction was and just HAD TO HAVE a cut of the profit that was meant to all be SOLELY FOR JADEN and his financially, emotionally, and physically hurting family.

I'm hoping that you the people of EBay have learned an extremely valuable and endearing lesson from all of this....

That is to KEEP YOUR WORD when you make A PROMISE to a DYING CHILD and their family!!!

Sincerely,

Melissa C.

Science Project....At the mall?! PI Mom is on the case!

Hmmm....I love how in motherhood, you have all these different rolls. Especially if you happen to be one that stays in the home to raise the family and be a Homemaker. Such as I am.

Who knew that one day, you would have to add another 'hat' to your already long list of "jobs that go with the territory of being a parent"?

As of today, I have put on a new hat. One I was hoping wouldn't be placed upon my head for at least oh... another maybe couple of years. Instead, it got slammed on my noggin this morning.

Now, we all know that girls love to go to the Mall. Even if they can't purchase a thing. Just being there is like a fly being mesmerised and drawn to that bug lamp light. It's inevitable. They will go to it, no matter the cost.

Well, I get this sudden "notice by word of mouth" that Hayley has to go to the mall TONIGHT to meet up with her little friends and do a Science Project.

***SCREEEEEECH!!*** Hit the brakes there!....

A SCIENCE project meeting....At the mall......With no PRIOR notice of said project or meeting via the teacher, or calls from the parent(s) who set it all up?

Hmmm.... Suddenly, I donned my 'Investigation Private Eye Mom' hat on top of my skull.

Then I drill her for information. Like where are they meeting within the mall, who is SUPPOSED to be there (as in her friends), what the Science Project is revolving. All the fun questions.

As I need and want answers to all of my "what the hell are you talking about?" questions, Hayley stammers, looks away in to thin air I'm thinking in the hopes that the answer will just appear before her eyes, and then stammers even more with each word she explains with.

All in all, I said I wanted names, parent's names, phone numbers and an explanation about this so-called Science Project that I didn't even know existed until now.

Begrudgingly, Hayley answered me and said she will be getting the phone numbers today. Personally, I think my daughter just wants to go to the mall. Not for a meeting about a Science Project either. She is only ten, people! I didn't see this coming for at least another couple of years.

Figures, her brain is catching up to the rest of her!! She is already big for her age, advanced in many school subjects, and mentally mature by about three years of her peers. Now, she is trying to outsmart me like a teenager!!

"When life hands you lemons..."

Don't you just love cliches? I do, for the most part anyways.

But, then again, I had so many lemons handed to me in this lifetime, which probably isn't quite half way over with yet, the cliche gets a bit tiring after a while.

At birth, I had fluid on my right lung, an esophugus that was basically torn in two, was a 'preemie' by 1976's standards and weighed only four whole pounds.

Oh, did I mention that that fluid severely collapsed my lung? So... Off to Santa Clara Medical I was flown by chopper. The staff told my father to not even expect me to survive the flight, let alone the surgery....Then to not expect me to live past the first 24 for 48 hours after that...And so on. 

Get the picture here?

Move it along to when I was just shy by a couple of months basically of turning the big 1-3. My mother suffered a traumatic stroke on October 1st, 1989. In the early morning hours, not long after midnight, on October 29th, not quite a whole month later, my mother passed away from the complications she incurred. 

Then, it was just me and my father, living life to the best of our ability, on our own (so to speak).

Almost twenty years later, I start getting strange infections in my left eye. Of course, it was all the signs of Pink Eye. But instead another kind of infection. So we treat it through my Opthomologist. 


Just over a year later, I get another "attack", so I gear up to see the good doctor again, to get more medicine. But, I also like an idiot, poked myself in the bad eye while scratching my eyebrow. 


After being sent to a Specialist, I find out that I perforated the eaten-away Cornea (window on the outside that keeps outside infections...out). So off to North Carolina's Duke University Medical Center I go.


They tried "gluing" the hole shut, in hopes that it repaired its self at best. Or at worst, hold it shut for the infection to go, as to do a Corneal Transplant.


Of course!...My luck had it that three days later, I get to go back to Duke for an emergency Corneal Transplant.


As fate would also have it, the surgery was done exactly 20 years later, to the day, that my mother had passed away.


She taught me, as did life its self that we all will have those sour lemon moments in our lives. At different intervals, there will be trials. We will at times be defeated. But mostly, we will defeat them! 


It's just all in how you use those lemons. Make that sweet lemonade. Or, use them to be a sour-soul.

Testimony Sunday

(From 'God Wants You To Know' application on FaceBook)

"On this day, God wants you to know...

... that all is well. What could you not accept, if you but knew that everything that happens, all events, past, present, and to come, are gently planned by One Whose only purpose is your good?"
 
 All I could say when I first read this one was a huge "WOW!!". How powerful to me those words are. And they really hit home for me.
 
When I was born, I had birth defects internally. By medical standards, I wasn't supposed to live past my first twenty four to fourty eight hours of life. Then, not more than a month to maybe a year.
 
That was almost thirty three years ago.
 
My mother passed away when I was almost shy of becoming thirteen. That is when the doubting and anger started. Not at her. Not at myself. But at God.
 
He ruined my life. He ruined my plans. He ruined everything for me in that one moment in time. He took my mother and everything ahead I had seen coming. My Prom, graduation, marriage. All the things that a mother is supposed to be there for when her daughter gets to those milestones in her life.
 
For not just months, but for years after, I hated the Lord. I hated Him with a passion for turning on me as He did (in my eyes). What He had done to me was beyond cruel.
 
It wasn't until that final internal battle for my soul, years after my mother's death, between Satan's lies, and the Lord's Truth, both speaking to me, that I had seen the light clearly.
 
When that moment came, and I realized that it was just all a small part in God's huge plan for me, the anger, the resentment, the pain all subsided. In an instant, I felt freer than I had for such a long time. Because I had seen that my mother's death was leading to better things down the road for me.
 
My mother was overly protective. Understandably so, I may say. I guess I would be as well, if my child had the problems I did. But it hendered my childhood, and my overall recovery process.
 
After her death, I was able to get my trach removed, and closed. I went on to have a family of my own (that I was told would not be medically possible), and have recieved a second chance to see with a Corneal Transplant on my left eye on the date of mom's passing (10/29/89).
 
It's hard at times, knowing she is missing the beautiful life that I have. But I also know deep down she sees all of us. And that God is not finished with the bigger plans of my life.
 
Because all the little bumps and twists ARE a small, entrical piece of the bigger picture.